My insides twisted into an angry pretzel. I’d been trying to teach her to rise above, but that obviously wasn’t working. I needed to have a conversation with Katelyn, but I feared it would only make things worse.
Turning into our drive, I saw Roan’s truck in the distance. Something in me eased. Reassured me, even with all that was going on.
I pulled to a stop in front of the house and climbed out, helping Cady from the back seat. She trudged up the steps and waited for me to unlock the door. When we got inside, Roan was sitting on the couch, Chauncey curled at his side.
Everything in me warmed at the sight. At his mere presence. I loved the thought of him letting himself in with the key I’d loaned him. Of him letting Chauncey out and giving him scratches. Of him waiting for us.
I loved it all. A little too much.
Cady slid her coat off, hanging it up.
Roan grinned at her. “Hey, Tiny Dancer.”
Cady’s lower lip began to tremble, and then she flew at him.
Roan’s eyes widened in surprise as he caught her, tutu and all.
Cady burst into wild, racking sobs. I expected Roan to freeze, unsure what to do with the ball of emotion in his arms. Instead, he simply rocked her back and forth, rubbing a hand up and down her back and whispering nonsensical things to her as she cried.
I crossed to them, lowering myself to the couch as Cady’s sobs lessened a fraction. Roan’s eyes collided with mine, and I saw so much pain in his—sympathy for my daughter.
“What happened?” he whispered gruffly to Cady.
She didn’t answer right away, then sniffed. “Heather’s so mean. She said my tutu is cheap and pathetic. That I’m embarrassing and will never be a ballerina.”
Roan stiffened, gripping Cady a little tighter. I watched as he struggled to keep his breathing even. “You know she’s just saying that because she’s jealous, right?”
Cady looked up at him. “She hates me, and I never did anything to her.”
Roan brushed the hair away from her face. “You’re nice to everyone. And I bet everyone at school and ballet likes you.”
“Not her, Susanna, and Lainey,” Cady grumbled.
Heather’s friends, I mouthed to Roan.
“They don’t like you because everyone else does. They have ugliness on their insides, and it means they’ll never have what you do,” he explained.
“What do I have?” Cady asked.
“You’ve got a light in you. Same one your mama has. And I bet your mom had it, too.”
Cady’s eyes shone as her lip trembled again. “You know about my mom?”
He nodded. “I heard she was super special, and I know she gave that to you.”
I squeezed her hand. “Roan’s right. Your mom had the best light. Brighter than anyone could imagine. And I think you’re gonna be just the same.”
Roan jerked his head in a nod. “You can’t let anyone steal that light. Can’t let anyone dim it. No matter how hard they try. Because that light’s magic.”
Cady blinked up at him. “Magic?”
“Definitely. It can heal hurts and make people feel safe and loved. You shine that light on as many people as possible. Even those mean girls. You don’t have to be friends with them, but you just keep shining. Don’t let them know they affected you at all.”
Cady nibbled on her bottom lip. “I don’t know if I can pretend when they’re that mean.”
“You gotta replace the words in your head. When they say something mean, you turn it into the best compliment ever,” Roan said.
She scrunched her nose. “Like how?”
Roan shifted her on his lap so she could see his face better. “Let’s say someone tells me, ‘You’re the ugliest person I’ve ever seen.’”
Cady straightened. “You’re not ugly. You’re handsome. Like a real-life prince.”
He chuckled, the sound skating over my skin in a pleasant shiver. “Well, that’s what I would tell myself they really said. I just replace the words in my head. Then you smile at them real big and say, ‘Thank you so much.’ It confuses them.”
Cady giggled. “I bet.” The laughter died away. “Doesn’t it hurt your feelings when people say mean things?”
“Every now and then when I’m already having a hard day. But most of the time, I realize they don’t really know me. I only care about what my family thinks about me. What the people I care about think.”
She straightened on his lap. “We’re your family now, too, and we love you a whole lot, Mr. Grizz.”
Cady threw her arms around Roan in a tight hug. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Love you, too, Tiny Dancer.”
My eyes burned, and my nose stung. I will not cry. I will not cry. I said the words over and over in my mind.
Cady released Roan and hopped off his lap. “I gots to get out of my leotard, and then can we have double chocolate peanut butter cup muffins, Mama?”
I swallowed the fire in my throat. “I saved a few just for you.”
“Yes!” She booty-shook out of the living room and down the hallway toward her bedroom.
A smile tipped my lips. That was a little kid for you. It was the end of the world one minute, and as though nothing happened at all the next.
I turned back toward Roan to thank him for all he’d done and was met by a wall of fury. He’d kept it carefully restrained while comforting Cady, but now it was out in full force.
His breaths were more labored, his fists clenched. “I am two seconds away from driving over to that brat’s house and showing her mean.”
23
ROAN
Aspen’s eyes widened in shock as she gaped at me. Then she burst out laughing. I’d heard her laugh before, but not like this. It was full-out, completely uninhibited, and wrapped around me like a warm embrace.
Tears filled her eyes as she struggled for control. “Let’s try to hold off on the child terrorizing, okay?”
My lips thinned at the reminder of Cady sobbing in my arms. “Someone needs to teach her a lesson.”
Aspen’s expression softened. “I don’t disagree, but I’m not sure that person is you.”
It would be if that girl didn’t leave Cady alone.
“This been going on long?” I asked.
Aspen toyed with the fringe on one of her throw pillows. “Heather has never been especially fond of Cady, but it got worse when they all started ballet.”
A muscle in my jaw ticked. “Have you talked to her parents?”
“It’s just her mom in the picture, Katelyn Beasley.”
I winced. That woman was a piece of work. She was always trying to snag one of my brothers. As they’d paired off, she’d set her sights on Lawson, who had no interest whatsoever. “You try talking to her?”
Aspen went quiet, her fingers tangling in the pillow’s fringe.
“Aspen?” I pressed.
Her gaze lifted to mine. “She’s not my biggest fan.”
My back teeth ground together. “What. Do. You. Mean?”
“Nothing. It’s not a big deal.”
I lifted a hand, brushing the hair away from her face. My thumb traced across her pulse point, the rough pad such a contrast to her petal-soft skin. “Mean-girl moms,” I muttered, remembering Aspen’s words from the other day.
Aspen swallowed hard. “It’s nothing I can’t take.”
Her pulse jumped beneath my thumb.