“But I want a mommy for Christmas,” Jenny protested, jutting out her tiny lips and forming a cute pout, Joe deciding that his little girl would break hearts one day. She was beautiful - just like her mother.
“Darling, I can’t give you a mommy for Christmas,” Joe explained for the hundredth time in the past two weeks. “What about this…. I’ll order a happy clown and throw you a whopper of a New Year’s Eve party. You can invite all your friends for a sleep-over. We‘ll have fireworks and anything else you want.”
“I don’t wanna,” Jenny persisted, crossing her arms. “Sides, clowns scare me.”
That was it. Whenever Jenny crossed her arms, subject closed.
“Jenny, remember what your counselor told you?” Joe reminded, quirking one dark brow as he gazed down at his daughter.
“Yep. I member lots of things that she told me like….I just want a mommy because it’s normal. Daddy, all my friends have mommies,” she challenged, uncrossing her arms - obviously open to discussion again, he silently noted.
Joe took the opportunity to sit beside her on the sofa. It couldn’t be easy for her - six years old and motherless.
In fact, she’d never known her mother. Not two months after Jenny had been born, Rhonda had taken off with the foreman of his ranch, Clyde Thompson.
Not twenty miles from home, the two had decided that some ‘naughty-nice’ was in order as they continued to head down the thin strip of road married to a mountain. They were discovered later that evening by the sheriff, the jeep wrapped around a tree at the base of the mountain - Rhonda’s legs wrapped around Clyde, her high heels still in place. At least they’d both died with smiles on their faces, Joe silently mock
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