Firefighter Daddy Read Online Free

day off. We’ll go down to Fisherman’s Wharf and have ice cream, just like we used to. Make a whole day of it.”
    Maybe if they did something Laura used to love doing, some of his guilt would go away.
    Miranda’s eyes lit up. “Can we take the cable car?”
    No, he wanted to say. Going to the wharf felt like a big enough first step. “We’ll see,” he said. Maybe by Saturday she’d forget about the cable car.
    Even as he thought it, he knew the chances were nil. He’d have to come up with an excuse, though. Some things he simply wasn’t ready for, and riding the cable cars was one of them.
    At home he pulled into the narrow driveway and pushed the remote for the garage door. They drove in, and his mother came out of her studio to meet them.
    “Perfect timing,” she said. “I just finished up for the day.”
    Between the three of them, they hauled the grocery bags up the stairs and deposited them on the kitchen table. As Mitch started unloading the contents, his mother picked up a small timer and set it.
    “Something smells good. What are you cooking?” he asked.
    “There’s a brown-rice-and-lentil casserole in the oven and a salad in the fridge.”
    All organic, no doubt. He hoped Miranda would eat it without making a fuss.
    “This isn’t for the stove, though. I’m reminding myself to check the kiln later and make sure it shuts off.”
    “Is there a problem with it?”
    “No. It’s new, and I want to be sure it’s working properly.”
    There had been a kiln in this basement for as long as he could remember—since before he was born, actually—and he’d always taken for granted that it worked properly. Now that he’d moved back here with Miranda, it was good to know the equipment was new and reliable.
    “Oh, good news,” his mother said, shaking her head at the box of cereal she’d hauled out of one of the bags. “I rented the attic apartment this afternoon.”
    “I thought you’d decided to leave it vacant.”
    “No, that’s what you decided I should do.”
    “I told you I’ll take care of expenses now that Miranda and I are living here.” He hated the idea of having a stranger living in the house with his daughter. His mother no longer needed the money, but she had an independent streak a mile wide, and that meant not letting anyone look after her.
    “Who’s moving in?” he asked.
    “A friend of Annie’s. Actually, the daughter of a friend of Annie’s.”
    “But you still checked her references, right?”
    “Didn’t have to.”
    “Because…?”
    “Because she’s the daughter of a friend of Annie’s.”
    He couldn’t believe his mother was so trusting. “How do we know this person will be a good influence on Miranda?”
    “She won’t be living with us—she’ll be in the attic apartment.”
    “You know what I mean.”
    “Oh, I know what you mean, all right, but last time I checked, it was a human rights violation to refuse to rent an apartment to someone because my son questioned her moral fiber.”
    Mitch cared about only one human’s rights, and those were Miranda’s. “Does she have a job?”
    “I assume so.”
    “You didn’t ask?”
    “No. Annie wouldn’t have sent her if she was a deadbeat.”
    God help him, but there were days when he wondered if his mother was a good influence on Miranda. Maybe he should have told Miss Sunshine about the apartment. It would have been better to have her living here than a complete stranger.
    “She’s moving in on Saturday morning. I told her you’d help move her things upstairs.”
    Gee, thanks.
    “Me and Dad are going to Fisherman’s Wharf on Saturday,” Miranda announced. She was polishing apples on her shirt, just the way her mother used to, and setting them in the fruit bowl, so she missed her grandmother’s reaction.
    Mitch put the milk in the fridge and tried to ignore the feel of his mother’s gaze boring into his back.
    “That’ll be fun,” she said. “I don’t think you’ve been there since your