said you’re my daddy.”
Gina waited to see what he would say.
He nodded. “I am. Is that okay?”
“I think so. I like your face,” Amanda Jane confessed without the slightest bit of hesitation.
He sank down to his haunches, eye level with her. “I like your face, too.”
Gina was suddenly hyperaware of the house, the shabby state of things. She looked around the small farmhouse. She’d been happy here, but now that he was coming, Gina found it lacking. She saw every flaw in the molding, the tears in the screen on the front porch, the dilapidated fence posts, the scratches on the wood floors...
But this was also where Amanda Jane learned to crawl, the front yard was where she made mud pies, and those tears in the screens were from the feral cats she always left food and water for.
Even though it was a rental, so much of their lives were entwined in the place and if Reed didn’t like it, she didn’t care.
He came from worse than this and she wouldn’t dare let him judge her.
More important, she wouldn’t judge herself.
“Gina-bee said you would.”
“She knows me pretty well sometimes.”
Amanda Jane nodded solemnly. “She knows most everything.”
Gina blushed. “Not everything.”
Reed looked up at her. “Probably everything.”
Amanda Jane yawned. “You should have come earlier. Then you could read me a story.”
“I could read you one now,” he offered.
“Oh, no. I’ll get too excited and I won’t sleep. Story before bath. You could come tomorrow.” Amanda Jane looked down at her toes. “If you wanted to.”
Gina sighed. “I thought tomorrow was our day.”
“Please?”
“Honey, he might be busy. We’ll see, okay?” Gina didn’t want her to get her hopes up, didn’t want her to get too excited about something that might not happen.
Amanda Jane looked up at him and mouthed Frogfest.
Frogfest dated back to the first settlers in the area when masses of frogs would converge on the riverbank and low marshy areas around the river to mate and they’d sing a lively tune long into the night. If times had been lean, the frogs provided much needed sustenance during hardship. Although, the modern celebrations didn’t include as many frog dishes, but for the occasional vendors selling deep-fried frog legs.
Gina found herself inviting him along. She couldn’t resist the absolute joy on the girl’s face and they needed to get used to each other—Amanda Jane and Reed. It wouldn’t work if they were just suddenly flung into the same household.
“You could come.”
“I’d like that.”
They’d be playing happy little family. She wondered if there’d ever been a bigger lie.
“Good night,” the little girl chirped.
“Where are you going? I thought you wanted to stay up to meet him?” Gina asked, wondering if there was something wrong.
“The sooner I go to bed, the sooner it’s tomorrow. Frogfest. Funnel cake.”
“Funnel cake with frogs?” Reed teased her.
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“I don’t think so, either.” He shook his head.
“You should have tea on the porch. It’s my favorite thing to do at night.”
“You could come outside with us.”
“No. Frogfest,” she reiterated, as if he and Gina didn’t understand the importance of the word. “Can I have your phone to play a game before sleep?”
“Sure, honey.”
She ran off, taking Gina’s phone with her, presumably to bed.
“She doesn’t hesitate to ask for what she wants, does she?” Reed said as he watched after her.
“Emotionally, she doesn’t.” Having gone without as a child and been afraid to ask for anything, she didn’t want Amanda Jane to ever feel that way. She thought about her earlier observations, but she decided she didn’t need to drive the financial point home any harder. He got it. He understood. And he’d given her everything she asked for.
“That’s good.” Reed’s voice was brittle.
She swallowed hard. “Do you want a sweet tea? We can drink it on the porch.”
“Sure,” he agreed.
Gina poured him a glass of tea and they stepped back out into the night. She lit a citronella candle, happy to have something to do with her hands.
He seemed so out of place sitting there in her secondhand rocking chair in his khakis, his polo shirt and his expensive haircut.
She looked back out into the yard, the symphony song of frogs down by the pond serenading them and the flickering dance of fireflies in the dark space.
“You remember when we’d climb up on the roof of my mom’s trailer and hide?” he said, finally.
“Like they couldn’t hear us stomping around up there.”
“Or didn’t care.” Reed shrugged. “Still, those were the only moments of peace I knew then.”
“Do remember that trip to the Lake of the Ozarks?” Gina blurted.
Reed gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Yeah. That guy who had that houseboat...he was one guy my mother hooked up with who wasn’t a total scumbag. Too bad she was so far gone when she met him. Things might have been different. It’s kind of strange to know that she’s that woman for him, you know?”
“Like how all the guys besides him were that guy for you? The ones you thought were trash?”
She watched his face pale.
“I didn’t mean—”
He held up his hand. “No, it’s okay. I loved my mother, but that’s what we were.” He shrugged. “She managed to hold it together long enough to reel him in, but then when he saw what was underneath, he didn’t want any part of it. But who in their right mind would?”
“Still, it was a good trip, wasn’t it?”
“One of the best times in my life. One of the only good times I can remember.”
“I know it was for
