“I’m sorry, Tess. Your mom’s right.”
For a moment, the table went quiet.
Then Colin put down his fork.
“Why doesn’t anyone ask me?”
I looked at him.
“Ask you what?”
“My office is less than ten minutes from that studio. I can pick her up after school, work from my laptop while she’s in class, and bring her home.”
Tessa stared at him.
“Three times a week?”
Colin smiled. “Unless you become famous and start refusing rides from ordinary people.”
Tessa laughed and threw her arms around him.
I remember feeling relieved more than anything else.
We trusted Colin.
That was the part I would keep returning to later.
We trusted him enough to hand him our daughter and never wonder what was being said during those long drives.
