Our Last Dance

18.

That evening, Stevie would drop Shelly off at home, but she didn't get off in order to greet Lindsey; Ireland had fallen asleep in the car and as she pulled up to the house, she was yawning as well.

"Thanks for everything, Stevie," Shelly pulled her shopping bags out of the car.

"You're welcome, sweetie. I'll see you on Monday, but we should try to have lunch or something this week."

"For sure... I'll let my dad know and maybe the three of us can do something," she assured.

The blonde nodded. "Just call me..."

"I will. Bye," she blew her a kiss and then ran up the path to get inside her home.

Once Stevie saw that the young gal was inside her house, she switched gears and made her way home.

Meantime, as Shelly was getting in, Lindsey was messing around with his guitar.

"Hi, daddy..."

"Hi, beautiful. Did you guys have a good time?" he asked, settling his instrument to the side while collecting his sheet music.

"We had a really good time. Ireland is so precious..."

"She is, she really reminds me of you when you were little."

She took a seat next to him on the couch and she sighed a little as she rested her head on his arm.

He placed his hand over her knee and patted her leg. "You alright?" he pressed a kiss to her head.

"I'm just tired," she shook her head. "But I was thinking a lot and I have some questions for you..."

"Okay..."

"About my mom..."

"Okay," he replied a little uneasily. "Well, are you hungry? I got some soup I can heat up..."

"Sure," she agreed. "Let me help you. I've been thinking about a grilled cheese..."

They got up and made their way to the kitchen and as they flowed about their separate tasks; Lindsey heating the soup, Shelly made some grilled cheese sandwiches for them. And after, they seated at the table to eat their late and second dinner.

"Alright, kiddo, hit me," he plopped down in his seat. "What do you wanna know about your mom?" he asked easily, much more open to answer than moments before considering he knew where they were headed rather than when she sprung the initial question.

Sitting down carefully, she crossed one leg over the other, and stared into her soup momentarily. "I barely remember her, daddy... Before she left, was she a good mom to me? Did she take care of me?"

"Yeah, she took care of you," he assured. "She was a decent mother... She did what she was supposed to, but as you got older, you clung to me more. Like I said, Shell, you were about two when I found out she was cheating..."

She nodded, staying ever so silent as her eyes began to gloss over from tears. "Did she even love me?" she wondered, voice breaking.

The man heard it in her voice immediately and he looked up. He reached over and settled his hand on hers, feeling how stiff she had become in just a single moment.

"Well?"

"Of course she did, honey, she just... She loved herself more and she wasn't ready to be a parent. When we got together, it was more of a fling and I should have known better but I was almost forty and I just wanted to settle down with somebody and I did... When you came along, my focus went off of your mom and completely on you and maybe I'm to blame for her leaving. But I wouldn't trade it for anything we had or went through together."