Bumpy Roads - A Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery (Book 11) (The Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery Series) by Terri Reid Page A

still hurts,” she said softly.
    “Of course it does,” he replied, “Because you care about
people. And that’s one of the reasons I love you.”
    “I love you too,” she responded, wiping her eyes once again.
    “Yeah, I know,” he said. “And that makes me the luckiest guy
in the world.”
    She took a deep breath and nodded through her tears. “Thank
you for talking to me,” she said. “It really helped.”
    “Good,” he said. “So, I can be home around eight thirty.
Will that work?”
    She thought for a moment. “Well, I’ll give Clarissa her
dinner early, but let her stay up a little late, so when you get home, she can
spend some time with you,” Mary suggested. “Then, I’ll have our dinner ready at
about nine fifteen or so.   How does that
sound?”
    “It sounds perfect,” he replied. “Thank you for being so
understanding.”
    She felt a twinge of guilt at being less than understanding
these past few days, but brushed it off. “No problem,” she said. “I’ll see you
at eight thirty.”

Chapter Twenty-five

 
    “Clarissa,” Mary called from the kitchen. “Dinner will be
ready in a few minutes, so wash up and come downstairs.”
    A few minutes later Clarissa jogged down the stairs,
stopping several steps before the floor. “Isn’t my dad home?” she asked.
    Wiping her hands on a kitchen towel, Mary walked over to the
entrance of the living room. “No, honey, remember I told you he had to work
late,” she explained. “So, I’m going to have you eat your dinner early so you
have time to visit with him later.”
    Folding her arms over her chest, Clarissa glared at Mary. “I
don’t want to eat early,” she said. “I want to eat with my father.”
    “Well, sorry, that’s just not going to work tonight,” Mary
replied, heading back into the kitchen. “But maybe later this week he can be
home on time and you can eat with him.”
    Pulling the bubbling casserole of homemade macaroni and
cheese out of the oven, Mary placed it on a trivet on the counter. She pulled a
plate down from the cabinet and added some of the pasta, a green salad and some
sliced chicken breast. “I made you all of your favorites,” she continued, “To
make up for not eating with him.”
    “I hate all of that,” Clarissa replied, as she walked to the
kitchen doorway and slumped against the frame.
    Mary picked up the plate and brought it over to the table,
placing it in front of Clarissa’s chair. “Wow, that’s too bad,” Mary said.
“Because that’s what’s on the menu tonight.”
    “I bet you aren’t going to eat this kind of food when my dad
gets home,” she argued. “I bet you’re going to have some really good stuff.”
    Mary walked back to the counter, stuck a fork into the
macaroni and cheese and took a bite. “This is really good stuff,” she said,
enjoying the thick cheesy sauce and soft noodles so much she took another fork
full. “Actually, this is pretty much incredible.”
    “Well, I’m not going to eat it,” Clarissa shouted.
    Mary nodded, sticking the fork back into the pan, “Okay,
I’ll call you when Bradley gets home.”
    “What?” the child asked, astonished.
    “I’ll call you when your dad gets home,” Mary repeated. “You
can just do your homework for now.”
    “But I’m starving,” Clarissa said.
    Mary looked up at her and smiled. “Oh, well, good ,” she said. “Your dinner is on the table.”
    “But I want something else,” she insisted.
    Shaking her head, Mary scooped up one more fork full. “There isn’t anything else for dinner,” she said.
“This is it.”
    Mary watched the internal struggle the child was having and,
although she didn’t understand why Clarissa was being so disagreeable, made
sure she kept her face as neutral as possible.
    “Fine,” Clarissa finally exclaimed. “I’ll eat it.”
    She stormed from the doorway to the table and shoved her
chair a few inches back in order to sit in it.   Then she proceeded to shove the