A Family of Their Own(71)

Peyton nodded as she eyed the spread of snapshots. “But—” She swung around. “I don’t have any of you and Lucy. I want some of those, too.”

Kelsey’s pulse skittered. “Are you sure?”

Peyton’s eyes widened. “You’re like a mom to me, and Lucy’s like my sister. You should be in the scrapbook, too.”

Peyton undid her. She pulled the girl into her arms and kissed her hair, holding her close. Her cheek quaked with emotion, and she grabbed a breath before she tried to speak. “Thank you, Peyton.” The love in the girl’s eyes struck her like a blow. Saying goodbye to Ross meant walking out on Peyton. Kelsey’s wounds deepened.

Lucy looked on, her eyes shifting from her to Peyton, and Kelsey wasn’t sure how she felt about the girl’s declaration, but in moments, she wrapped her arm around Peyton. “You are just like a new sister.”

Kelsey willed herself to straighten. Her legs trembled as she moved toward the door. “Here’s what we’ll do. While you start on the scrapbook, Lucy can go through a few of our photos. We have some nice ones from Lucy’s birthday party.” The silly photo of Ross and her balancing on one foot to please Audrey came to mind. She wouldn’t call that one nice. It was ridiculous, but it was fun.

A few minutes later, the two girls sat at the dining-room table covered in newspaper while they sorted photos and looked at the scrapbooking supplies she’d purchased. “You know how to do this, right?”

Peyton shuffled through the background sheets she’d bought. “I saw a TV program about scrapbooking so I know a little.” She looked up. “But if I have a problem, I’ll let you know.”

Kelsey pulled out some of the decorative accessories. “Here you have these little bubbles where you can add words and make it look like they’re talking—like in a cartoon. And these are different things to make the page fun.” She gave them a few stickers and die cuts. “I’m going into the kitchen, and if you need me just holler.”

Both girls were already delving into the supplies before she finished speaking. She shrugged and slipped through the doorway. In the kitchen, she started making cookies, forcing herself to forget her depressing concerns. In the background, the girls’ voices jumbled together in conversation, although she couldn’t make out their words.

The scent of cookies filled the air when she pulled them from the oven. As if she’d rung a fire alarm, Lucy and Peyton charged into the room, sniffing the air. She poured each one a glass of milk and set out a small plate of warm cookies. They slipped onto stools at the island and watched her make another batch.

“Mom.”

Kelsey turned and waited.

Lucy’s eyes shifted as if she were uncertain what to say.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, but I want to know when I’m going to start getting curves like Peyton.”

Peyton gave her a poke.

The question caught her off guard, and Kelsey stood a second without knowing what to say. She licked her lips. “Peyton’s a year older, so you’ll get more curves in another year.” She pointed to Lucy’s slender waist. “See, you have curves starting already.”

She gazed at herself a moment before raising her head. “The day school let out, a boy flirted with Peyton. He told her he’d miss her during the summer.”

“You weren’t supposed to say anything, Lucy.” Peyton jammed her fists into her waist. “I’m not going to tell you anything again.”

Lucy’s eyes widened. “But this is my mom. I thought you meant not to tell your dad.”

Peyton huffed while Kelsey got her bearings. So this was the problem. Boys. Her mind spun. “Maybe the boy just wants to be a friend, Peyton. They’re not always flirting.”

She looked down at her lap. “He told me I was pretty.”

Pretty. Kelsey swallowed. “That’s a nice compliment. Do you think he’s handsome?”

“Sort of.”

“See. He did more than think it. He told you.” She bit her lip. Yes, she was a mother, but she was new at this. Inadequate. “Your dad would know more about how boys think.” She pictured Ross wanting to chase the boys away with a shovel. The image made her grin.

“I heard girls talking in class about things, but I don’t think Dad knows about them or else he doesn’t want to tell me.”

A knot formed in her stomach. “It’s hard for a father to talk with his daughter about personal things and the changes she goes through.”