“Why didn't Mom tell me?”
Rebecca's face changed.
“Because we had a fight.”
“What about?”
“Something stupid.”
“Then why didn't you fix it?”
Adults hated children's questions because children removed excuses.
Rebecca swallowed.
“Because I was stubborn.”
“Mom too?”
Rebecca smiled through tears.
“Very.”
Daisy looked at Ray.
“Like him?”
Rebecca glanced toward the biker.
Ray sighed.
“Apparently my reputation precedes me.”
Daisy almost smiled.
Rebecca visited again.
Then again.
No rush.
Supervised at first.
Then outings.
Daisy met her cousins through video calls.
A ten-year-old girl.
A six-year-old boy.
The boy showed Daisy his collection of toy dinosaurs.
Daisy showed Buttons.
He said:
“Cool.”
That mattered enormously.
In March, the court approved extended visits.
By May, everyone expected Daisy eventually to live with Rebecca.
Ray knew this was good.
He hated it.
Kansas was eight hours away.
Daisy noticed.
“You're sad.”
“No.”
“You look sad.”
“My knee hurts.”
“Liar.”
Ray stared.
“Who taught you that?”
“You.”
“Terrible influence.”
She climbed onto the porch swing beside him.
“If I live with Aunt Rebecca, can Wednesdays still happen?”
Ray looked at her.
“Maybe not in person every week.”
Daisy's face fell.
“But.”
She waited.
“Phone.”
“Video.”
“Visits.”
“And I own a motorcycle.”
She looked alarmed.
“You’re going to ride eight hours?”
“Probably not often.”
“Good.”
“You sound like my doctor.”
“What if you forget?”
Ray’s smile vanished.
He understood the real question.
Not Wednesday.
Her.
He reached inside his vest.
Removed his wallet.
Inside was a small school photograph.
Daisy.
Martha had given it to him.
“You've been in my wallet for three months.”
She stared.
“That's weird.”
Ray laughed.
“Little bit.”
“You won't forget?”
“No.”
“Promise?”
This time Ray answered without hesitation.
“Promise.”
The custody transition began in June.
Rebecca and her husband rented a small house near Red Creek for six weeks so Daisy could get used to them before relocating.
Ray approved immediately.
He had no legal authority.
He behaved as though he did.
Rebecca found this amusing.
“You know you're not her grandfather.”
Ray looked at her.
“I'm aware.”
Daisy entered the room.
“What's a grandfather?”
Ray groaned.
Rebecca laughed.
Later, Rebecca found Ray alone outside.
“I should thank you.”
“For what?”
“For not trying to keep her.”
Ray looked offended.
“She isn't a motorcycle.”