The Memory of You (Sanctuary Sound #1)(25)
“Anyway, somehow that summer we all started spending time together. We gave ourselves a name—the Lilac Lane League—and we started a journal, because Peyton liked to write. We wrote down our dreams and the things that made us mad, and the things that made us laugh. Our crushes, first kisses, all that stuff. Little by little, that knot in my stomach unwound because my friends made me less lonely. That’s how I know the fastest way to feel better is to make a new friend.”
“You’re my new friend.” Emmy’s voice sounded small and shaky.
“I am your friend, but you also need a friend your age. I know you miss your old gang, but try to make one new friend here, too. I promise there are nice girls. I grew up here, after all, and I’m nice.” Steffi smiled and brushed some of Emmy’s curls off her face.
Ryan decided to enter the conversation now, before Emmy broke down in front of Steffi or put her in a more difficult situation. He exited through the kitchen door and crossed the partially framed porch to get to the yard. “Hey there, ladies.”
Emmy snapped her gaze at him, and he saw the panic in her eyes. His daughter’s fear of him speared his chest like a sword. He’d failed at his marriage, and his daughter was paying the highest price. He couldn’t fail her, too. He dropped to his knees and opened his arms. She flew into them in a heartbeat.
He hugged her and swayed, like he’d done when she was so much younger. Steffi quietly retrieved her toolbox and took it to her van.
“Emmy,” Ryan said, once they were alone, “I’m sorry this is such a hard time for you. I want to help you, but I don’t always have all the answers. I do know one thing, though. You can’t call people names and expect to make friends.”
She cried against his chest, each tear falling like acid raining on his heart. “Oh, princess, it’ll be okay. We all make mistakes. The important thing is to apologize and try to learn from it.”
“You always say that,” she muttered into his shirt.
“Because it’s the truest thing I know.” He kissed her head.
“So why can’t you and Mom apologize and make up?”
He hadn’t expected that question, although maybe he should have. “It’s not that simple.”
“You always say that, too.”
If a conversation with her took this much work at this age, he could barely imagine dealing with her in her teens. “You’re all dirty from helping Steffi. How ’bout you go inside and clean up before dinner? I need to talk to Steffi for a second. Then I’ll come in, and we can figure out how to apologize to Katie Winston.”
Emmy nodded while swiping her arm under her runny nose. “Okay.”
She wandered into the house just as Steffi came back from the van to get the rest of her personal things. He stood to speak with her. “I heard part of what you said to Emmy.”
“I know you don’t want me to speak for you, but I just—”
“It’s okay. Thank you for making her feel like she can confide in you. I should’ve listened to you the other day.” He crossed his arms and blew out a long breath. “I’m in over my head doing this on my own.”
“You’re not on your own. You’ve got your parents. But even if you were, I know you can do it. She loves you. She wants to make you happy and proud.”
He nodded, although he knew he was screwing it all up.
“Well, I’d better take off. Benny’s expecting me for another training run.”
“You guys are disciplined. I haven’t had a chance to get in a good workout in three months. Pretty soon I’m going to be too soft.” He patted his gut. Granted, he was still pretty fit. He could probably keep up with Steffi for a few miles, anyhow.
“I’m sure your mom would watch Emmy if you need to hit the gym or the mean streets of Sanctuary Sound.” She tipped her head, grinning. “My brother might even like some male company now and then. He gets sick of my singing.”
Ryan laughed. “Well, you were good at a lot of things, but singing wasn’t one of them.”
“You didn’t used to complain.” She hit his arm.
He grew quiet for a second, remembering the many times he’d listened to her terrible rendition of Lifehouse’s “You and Me” in the car or on the patio. “No, I never did mind those private concerts.”
The air between them turned sweet and thick with fond memories. Holding hands, soccer footwork challenges, the first time he’d copped a feel, and the light in her eyes when he had. The images almost made him want to take hold of her hand again; his heart beat with that hot desire like it had at seventeen.
“Dad!” Emmy called from the door, breaking the spell.
“You’d better go,” Steffi said with a wistful smile before she turned and walked back to her car.
He watched her go and waited . . . waited . . . Just before she got to her van, she peeked over her shoulder at him again, and everything seemed a little bit brighter.
Chapter Six
Steffi approached the gold-and-graphite condominium building where Peyton’s older brother, Logan, lived. Located in the diverse, artsy Chelsea neighborhood of Manhattan, it stood within spitting distance of art galleries, eclectic shops, and cafés. Perfect for a photographer with money to burn. No doubt this pad cost a couple of million, maybe more.