The Dad Next Door. C.J. Carmichael

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      He looked around the maze of boxes for a place to sit. He could barely see the sofa, let alone relax on it. Tomorrow he really needed to make a bigger dent in the unpacking. In the meantime, he and Tory had to get out of here.

      “Let’s go for a walk. We’ll head downtown and grab a bite to eat.”

      Once they were outside, he tried to raise the subject of school again, but Tory was more interested in collecting rocks than in talking. They stopped at the drugstore to buy school supplies she needed, and then moved on to the Apple Pie Café.

      Gavin made a halfhearted effort to let Tory choose from the menu, but when that didn’t work, he ordered burgers and shakes for both of them.

      He waited until the server left to broach the topic one more time. “Tory, you want to learn to read and write, don’t you?”

      She nodded.

      “And you want to make friends, too. Right?”

      She looked more uncertain about this.

      “You do want to make friends,” he assured her. “That’s what Sam would want you to do.”

      Tears filled Tory’s eyes again, and Gavin wondered if mentioning her sister had been the wrong thing to do.

      The server returned with their food and Gavin opened Tory’s burger to take out the pickle. If Sam had been here, he’d have given her Tory’s pickle and his, too. But he shouldn’t think about that. Shouldn’t look at Tory and imagine another little girl sitting right beside her…

      Double trouble. That’s what his brother Matthew had called them, though always with a smile. He’d been a rock of support to Gavin in those first years after Marianne had left, always finding time to call or visit despite the demands of his job and his own family.

      Then, again, after Sam’s death, Matthew had been the one person who had really seemed to understand what he was going through. He’d leaned on Matt a lot. Too much, perhaps. It had never occurred to him that maybe his brother needed a little support, too.

      But plowing through each day and helping Tory get through hers had been about all he could manage.

      Gavin left the subject alone after that. He was glad to see that despite her unhappiness about school, there was nothing wrong with Tory’s appetite. The first while after Sam’s accident she hadn’t eaten much, and Gavin still felt she had some catching up to do.

      After they’d finished their meal and settled the bill, they started for home. Tory paused at one of the store windows along the way.

      It was Allison Bennett’s shop, The Perfect Thing.

      The sofa in the display window invited customers to come inside and get comfortable. Blankets and pillows had been artfully arranged around a tray holding a pretty teapot and two china mugs.

      As she’d done in her own home, in this window Allison had created a heartwarming sense of “home.” The exact kind of home he intended to design himself, now that he was starting his own business.

      The exact kind of home he wanted to live in, as well.

      “Can we go inside, Daddy?”

      He was curious to see more, too.

      A bell chimed as he opened the door. A well-dressed woman in her forties stood at a table in the back, flipping through a book of fabric samples. Though he couldn’t see Allison, he could hear her speaking. “I think I’ve got just the thing. Hang on a minute.”

      Tory spotted a cabinet filled with miniature figurines of people, animals and birds. She squealed with pleasure. “Can I look, Daddy?”

      He went to the cabinet with her, noting the ones she seemed to like the most. Her birthday was in October. The miniatures would make a terrific gift.

      “These are more expensive,” Allison said, “but just feel them. Pure raw silk. Scrumptious.” She stepped into his line of vision as she set another heavy book of samples before her customer. “If you want to take these home to see them in your bedroom, you can sign them out.”

      She glanced up and the moment she spotted him her spine stiffened and her cheeks turned pink.

      He smiled. “My daughter is fascinated by your miniatures.”

      “Is Tory here?” She went over to the cabinet. “Hi, Tory. Let me unlock this for you.”

      Allison’s customer in the back decided she wanted to borrow both fabric books and so Allison left Tory with the figurines as she made a note of the woman’s name and the books she’d taken. When she came back to Tory, she removed a figurine of a woman in Victorian dress from the cabinet.

      “This one’s my favorite. Isn’t she beautiful?”

      Gavin left the two of them to talk and wandered farther into the shop, drawn by the unique merchandise and the clever displays. Every time he doubled back, he discovered something new.

      Several things here would look great at home, he thought. That mirror. The blue-and-red rug. A leather ottoman. At least he thought they would look great. He didn’t entirely trust his own instincts on this. Though he had a good eye for design, soft furnishings had never held much interest for him.

      As he browsed, he could hear the murmur of Allison and Tory’s conversation. He was astonished by how much his daughter had to say. She’d barely looked at Allison when they’d met on moving day, and it usually took her a long time to warm up to strangers.

      Finally, he had to interrupt. “We should be getting home, Tory.” Allison looked up at him. She had cat’s eyes, green and curious. “I hope we didn’t take up too much of your time.”

      “Absolutely not. It’s been fun.” Allison locked the cabinet with an old-fashioned brass key. He focused on her hands, small and delicate, with long fingers and nicely kept nails. The real kind, not the shiny fake ones with white tips that the women in his office back in Hartford had favored.

      Tory said goodbye and thanks, without any prompting from her father. It was only as they were walking along the sidewalk toward home that one little detail struck him.

      Allison hadn’t been wearing an engagement ring.

       CHAPTER THREE

      THE WEEK FELT LONG to Allison. She thought about her new neighbors often, but she hadn’t seen them since their impromptu visit to her shop on Monday. Twice, she had had dinner with her father, and then she spent a couple of evenings sorting out her fall inventory, and finally it was Friday.

      She closed her shop at six o’clock sharp. It had been a slow day, and she told herself to be thankful for that. In a couple of weeks, when the leaves started changing, tourists would flock to the area and she’d be busy enough. Just as she was about to head for home, her friend Sandy called.

      “So, how are things going?”

      Allison knew that Sandy meant well, but the sympathy in her tone was annoying. She purposefully made her voice upbeat and happy. “Fine. Everything’s great.”

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