anytime.”
Amber beamed, grabbing her mother’s hand.
“Mom, this is Tanner. He thinks I should be a pastry chef.”
“You could be a pastry chef, or a nuclear physicist, or a circus clown. Anything you want.” The woman turned to look at Tanner, and Tanner felt a shock. He’d bet any money that this woman was related to Hope McNaughton. This woman was younger, for sure. But otherwise, they could be sisters.
“Tanner Wingate,” Tanner said, holding out his hand. “I was telling Amber that I’m still searching for the perfect brownie. My hopes are pinned on her.” He smiled at the girl, who grinned back at him.
“Faith McNaughton,” the woman said, shaking his hand, and Tanner felt himself grin. He’d been right.
“You wouldn’t be related to Hope McNaughton, would you?” he asked. “I just met her this afternoon. She was playing cards with some guys from New Jersey.”
“Our uncles,” Faith said. “Hope’s my sister.”
There was that uncles line again. Unbelievable.
“Come on Amber, let’s go,” Faith said. “I told Aunt Hope that we’d all have dinner together before she goes out to play cards tonight, and I have to move the truck out of Kenji’s delivery space or he won’t be so nice next time.” The two of them started back toward the swinging doors.
“Next time bring me more cabbage, and all will be forgiven,” Kenji said, lifting his hand in farewell.
“Next time I’ll bring you a mountain of cabbage, Kenji,” Faith said.
“Mom, we don’t have a mountain of cabbage,” Amber whispered, looking worried.
Tanner grinned. He hoped Amber would become a pastry chef. She seemed much too practical to be a circus clown.
“See you, Amber,” he said. The girl turned around to give him a wave.
“You were right!” she called. “The unagi was the best!”
Tanner watched the two of them push through the swinging doors, and just as they disappeared into the kitchen, he heard Faith say, “So, Amber, have you decided what you want to do for your birthday next Tuesday?”
Nice kid. And now she was having a birthday. They grew up so fast.
Tanner collected his pickup and drove home to the well-maintained ranch-style house he shared with his daughter. Troy was in her bedroom trying to squeeze three cubic feet of personal items into a two-cubic-foot suitcase.
“I’ll never get everything packed,” she wailed in frustration, flopping down on her bed. The pink chenille spread, normally smoothed over the frame, was disheveled and wrinkled, much like his daughter. The open, uncooperative suitcase bounced on the mattress.
“I guess you can’t go then,” Tanner said with a grin.
“Oh, Daddy.” She scowled at the suitcase, a young woman with major packing problems, and then looked at her father, leaning against the doorframe. Suddenly her face changed, and she looked not much older than Amber, more like the little girl he had helped get ready for camp too few years ago.
“It’s so soon,” she said, her face twisting a little.
Tanner came into the room and sat down on the bed, edging his eighteen-year-old daughter over to make space. He stroked her hair.
“It’s going to be a lot different,” he said. “But you’re ready for this. You’re going to do great. You’ll make a lot of new friends. I’ll still be here. You can always call. You’ll come back at Thanksgiving. And you won’t go on any dates until you’re twenty-five.”
“Oh, Daddy. ”
He laughed, standing up. “Are you hungry?” he asked. “I think there’s enough stuff for salad and spaghetti.”
“No, there isn’t,” Troy said, bouncing off the bed. “I ate that for lunch. And I’ve been here all day, packing and stuff. And I went for a swim and I’m starving. Can we go out for Chinese?”
“Out it is. Give me a minute to change my clothes.”
When he came out of the shower a few minutes later, Troy was still getting dressed, so he wandered into the kitchen and pulled out the phone