The Memory of You (Sanctuary Sound #1)(6)
“You’d better wipe all that up before Memaw comes back. She won’t stand for that kind of mess.” Unlike Val, who’d never cared much about the messes Emmy left. In fairness, he hadn’t trained his daughter to be tidy, either.
“Okay,” Emmy said, dunking another cookie.
“That’s enough, princess.” Ryan removed the platter, although he was probably too late to prevent a tummyache. “You’re going to get sick. When you finish here, come up and help me unpack some of our boxes, okay? Then I need to do some reading for a while. But maybe we can go to town and get pizza for dinner.”
She shrugged, neither excited nor unexcited by the offer.
“I’ll take you to my old favorite, Campiti’s. You’ll love it.”
Emmy kicked her feet beneath the table. “Did Miss Lockwood used to hang out here a lot?”
“Yeah.” He scratched the back of his neck. “She grew up here in town, like me.”
“Memaw says she was a special friend.”
“Did she?” Just great. A nice piece of circumstantial evidence to prove his mom had an ulterior motive with this remodeling plan. She’d always loved Steffi. She’d even pooh-poohed the breakup, claiming Steffi needed a little space to grow up.
If his mom thought Ryan had any interest in women right now, she’d lost her mind. He’d have to be extra careful to make sure Emmy didn’t make room in her heart for Steffi, because being disappointed by Steffi Lockwood was as certain as the sugar high those snickerdoodles were about to give his daughter.
Chapter Two
Steffi wiped sweat from her brow, laboring to breathe in the oppressive midday humidity. Finally alone, she measured out the potential second access point again, managing to write it down this time. Ryan’s words kept boring into her thoughts, messing with her focus. “It gutted me back then, but now it suits me fine.”
At nineteen, she hadn’t known how to break up with the only boyfriend she’d ever had. The man she’d lost her virginity to and spun future plans about for so long that the restless feelings she’d begun experiencing as a freshman in college had made her hate herself. The catalyst had been when he’d convinced her to scrap her summer-abroad plans so they could spend time together before being separated for another nine months. For twelve weeks, she’d corralled ten-year-olds on the lumpy town field at a local summer soccer camp while daydreaming about Barcelona. Hot, aggravating, monotonous days. Her resentment had made Ryan’s attention and affection suffocating.
Freedom beckoned, but she couldn’t end it in person because he would’ve asked too many questions. He’d already proved he could talk her into or out of anything, so she’d known she’d have to take drastic steps to convince him to let go.
Her stomach tightened now as if she were back in her dorm at UConn, chewing her nails while staring at her phone as it pinged over and over after he’d returned to his school in Boston. Each deleted text and unanswered voice mail had made her hug herself and rock with doubt, despite her teammates’ claims that it would be fine. More than that, they’d turned her breakup into some kind of feminist mission. After all, guys ghosted girls all the time, didn’t they? She’d wanted a clean break, hadn’t she? They’d convinced her that she couldn’t give him any wiggle room or she’d never get the chance to explore the world.
Meanwhile, Ryan’s messages had cycled from concern to dismay to anger. Deep down, she’d known he deserved much better. And instead of the relief she’d expected after cutting herself free, she’d limped through those early weeks as if half of her was missing. But as weeks had turned to months, she couldn’t then reach out and apologize. When Peyton had informed her that he’d taken up with Val, that had sealed their fate.
How foolish of her now to think they could be friends. “I don’t trust you.” Given her behavior, she could hardly blame him. She got cramps whenever she imagined how he’d felt to be blindsided with that freezeout. Even now, she buried her face in her hands and drew a deep breath.
The squeak of the kitchen door opening caused her to look up. Emmy Quinn wandered outside, leaving the door wide open.
“What’s a ‘special’ friend?” Emmy’s precocious gaze glided over Steffi for the second time that day. Her coloring and face might resemble her father, but her impudent personality had to come from Val. Ryan didn’t usually provoke others for a thrill. Emmy clearly did.
“I’m not sure.” Steffi had never had intimate conversations with kids, and she didn’t need her first time to be with Ryan’s daughter.
Emmy huffed. “Memaw says you were my dad’s special friend.”
“Oh.” Had Molly lost her mind? “Well, we had a lot in common. We both played soccer for our high school, and we both liked to go sailing, so we hung out a lot back then.”
Emmy pursed her lips as her gaze slid to Steffi’s Timberland work shoes. She wrinkled her nose. “You don’t dress like a girl.”
Steffi smothered a smile while deciding Emmy needed a little lesson in feminism. She made a show of patting her overalls and tool belt. “Hmm. I’m a girl, and I’m wearing clothes, so I’m not sure I understand what you mean. Far as I know, there’s no such thing as dressing ‘like a girl.’”