“Okay, I guess. But he spilled tomato sauce on my sweater.” Glaring at Jack, she held out the bottom of the garment, where a very faint stain was visible.

“That’s why we were a few minutes late.” He frowned at the sweater. “I was trying to get it out.”

“I can still see it.” Tears welled on Hannah’s lower lashes.

“Why don’t we work on it again tomorrow afternoon?” Christi smoothed a hand over the girl’s hair. “I bet we can fix this. Your dad was in a hurry today because of the meeting.” She looked at Jack. “What did you use?”

“Dish detergent and water.”

“Not laundry stain remover?” His blank expression gave her the answer. “Never mind. I’ll try that tomorrow.” She transferred her attention back to Hannah—and switched to a less-charged subject. “What did you think of the meeting?”

“I liked the part about classes for kids. I’ve been to the tide pools, but the other ones would be fun.” She sidled closer. “We’re gonna get a pizza for dinner. Do you want to come with us? We could have more cake too.”

The sudden grooves that appeared on Jack’s forehead indicated he hadn’t been consulted about—nor was he receptive to—that suggestion.

She quashed a surge of disappointment.

It wasn’t as if her evening would be idle, after all. Between festival planning and a scheduled call with Tasha to get an update on her moving plans to KC and the restaurant, she’d be busy until she went to bed.

“Thank you for thinking of me, but I—”

“Christi, do you have a minute?”

At the question, she pivoted. Tried to call up the name of the woman who was going to run the lavender session. Jeannette. That was it. And the interruption couldn’t be more perfectly timed—from Jack’s perspective. He was off the hook about the invitation.

“Sure.” She angled back toward the father-daughter duo. “Would you two excuse me?”

“No problem. We’ll see you tomorrow.” Jack hustled a protesting Hannah toward the door.

Although Christi tried to give Jeannette her full attention, she couldn’t quite mute the distracting question that kept looping through her mind.

What would it take to convince Jack once and for all that the shallow girl who’d dazzled him almost a dozen years ago had become a responsible woman who was worthy of his love?

Her knee was throbbing tonight. Bad. But the painkillers made her loopy.

Maybe she could muscle through.

Beth shifted in the chair on the front porch of her apartment, grimacing as she adjusted the leg she’d propped on the lower rung of the railing. She may have overdone it the past two days, trekking to the meeting this afternoon at Grace Christian and to Charley’s yesterday.