For the Girls' Sake Read Online Free

that perfect? Can you believe it? Our Rose will trip up the path to the cottage. Oh!" She’d shivered in delight, and he’d momentarily seen the vision that had become the center of her life: a little girl with the same mahogany brown hair as her mommy, her legs skinny, dimples flashing and her giggle a trill like a flute solo that reached for the sky and found it.
    Their child.
    And him? What had he said? A gruff "You’re not letting the name of the place suck you in, are you?"
    She’d only laughed at him, her joy undimmed. "Don’t be silly. It’s a wonderful preschool! The director’s written a book about early childhood development. They have animals—chickens and goats and this big lazy dog that lets kids climb all over him and only grunts. And puzzles and books and blocks and puppets! It’s wonderland."
    Pain stabbed now and Adam rubbed his chest. He’d never considered anyplace else for Rose. He was trying to raise their daughter as Jennifer would have wanted to, which meant he scraped his memory for nuggets his wife might have dropped, perhaps in bed when he scanned the financial news a last time while she chattered on in her light voice as if oblivious to his lack of attention.
    Adam took another savage look at the clock and groaned. Was he messing up one more thing Jennifer had wanted for Rose?
    But maybe it wasn’t the best choice now. Maybe he should go for a nanny.
    He tensed when the light turned green and willed the driver of the Buick to make a dash before cross-traffic began. But, no. The car didn’t even inch forward. The heel of Adam’s hand was on the horn when he clenched his teeth and made himself wrap his fingers around the wheel again. If he hadn’t stayed for that last phone call, he wouldn’t be in such a hurry he wanted other drivers to take their lives in their hands just to get out of his way. Why hadn’t he walked out, ignored the ringing?
    He couldn’t do everything.
    He had to try. He owed it to Rose. And to Jennifer.
    An interminable five more minutes had passed before he barreled into the parking lot, yanked on the emergency brake and killed the engine, slamming his door before he strode in.
    The director of the preschool, a woman of his own age named Melissa Gearhart, waited in the entry, eyes cool.
    "Mr. Landry. Rose has been worried."
    His intense anxiety made itself felt in a long huff of breath. "I’m sorry. I’ve done it again."
    "I’m afraid I’m going to have to start charging you when staff has to stay late, like today."
    "I understand." He swallowed. "Where’s Rose?"
    The dark-haired woman with tired smudges beneath her eyes turned. "Under the climber."
    He stepped past her into the main activity room, where the floor was covered with bright mats to pad falls from the slide and wooden peg climber. He had to circle a playhouse before he saw his daughter, lying on the mat with her thumb in her mouth.
    Wearing clothes he’d never seen before. Ill fitting and mismatched.
    "She had an accident again," Melissa said softly behind him. "No big deal. I’ve got her clothes in a plastic bag for you. Just bring those back when you’ve washed them."
    He closed his eyes for a moment, acknowledging more failure. Or maybe not—he hadn’t had the guts to ask the mothers who picked up their three-year-olds whether they had potty accidents still, too. Or the occasional father, none exclusive parents the way he was. Adam didn’t even like to ask Melissa, because he didn’t want to know something was wrong, that he’d already warped his beloved child.
    If only he knew what on earth he was doing.
    If only Jennifer were alive to help him do it.
    "Hey, Rose Red," he said softly, crouching. "Ready to bloom?"
    "Daddy!" She erupted to her feet and into his arms, her sky-blue eyes flooding with tears. "You’re late, and I’m hungry, and I had a accident, an’..."
    He stemmed the flow. "I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Here you were, all by yourself."
    "Except for Lissa," Rose mumbled