the little girl had stepped back, then she smiled and whispered, “You’re welcome,” before gesturing for the next child to come forward.
She still didn’t look at Collin.
This time, it was DeShawn. Instead of putting the bookmark in his treat bag, he took it from her and slipped it into the pocket of his overalls. “I don’t want it to get smushed by the candy.” His big brown eyes were so earnest that Marnie couldn’t help but beam at him in approval.
“That’s smart thinking, DeShawn.” The boy flashed a grin at her and skipped away.
The next child was a sullen-looking boy wearing a flashy, store-bought astronaut costume. Marnie’s stomach tightened. She knew that face. She’d seen it around town. Sharp chin. Heavy brow.
Even if she hadn’t seen him before, she’d recognize that look anywhere. Her own features, rendered in shades of disappointment.
She tried to hand the bookmark to him with minimal fuss, but he yanked it out of her hand and scowled. “This is a stupid treat. We were supposed to get candy.” He stomped away and dropped the bookmark into the trash bin next to the door.
Marnie couldn’t stop herself. Her jaw dropped. Behind her, Mrs. Cartwright gasped softly. She heard a few parents tsking in disapproval, but the one person who mattered—his father… Marnie’s father—didn’t seem to realize.
“Bookmarks suck. You promised me candy!” Her half-brother was shouting at their dad.
“Hey, Patrick, don’t blame me. I can’t control everyone’s treats. Don’t worry about it, you’ll still get plenty of candy. This was only one place and we still have the whole town left.”
Marnie blinked. Was that really the extent of it? Her dad was just going to console Patrick with promises of candy elsewhere, ignoring that his child had just tossed away something that she had paid for out of her own pocket?
She wanted to say something, but she felt paralyzed, as though this whole thing were happening to someone else. Besides, she didn’t even know what to call him, this man who had walked out on her so long ago. Certainly not Dad . Mr. Thomas felt too formal, though, despite the circumstances. Brent? Maybe. That was his name, after all.
“Excuse me.” A voice sounded from just to Marnie’s right. Low, masculine. Full of authority. “I don’t care how important you think candy is. Your kid just got a gift from Miss Thomas and not only did he not say thank you, he threw it away right in front of her. If you’re not going to say anything, then I will.”
Marnie wanted to melt into the floor. God. Someone was standing up for her. Someone with a lovely Irish accent and a calm, steady voice.
She looked over at Collin in gratitude, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was frowning at her father— Brent —who rolled his eyes and waved a hand in the air as though dismissing how unacceptable his kid’s behavior was. “Whatever. It’s a lame bookmark . Don’t get your panties in a bunch.”
She felt, rather than heard, the entire room suck in an angry breath. Before anyone else could jump in, Collin spoke again. “Children,” he announced, but he didn’t take his eyes off of her dad. “Saying things like what Patrick’s dad just said is wrong. Please don’t repeat that. Taking things from someone without saying thank you is wrong. Even if you don’t love the gift, someone spent time, thought, and probably money to give it to you. That deserves a thank you.”
“Who do you think you are?” Brent was scowling, jaw jutting out in belligerence.
“I’m Collin Morgan. And I know who I am. More importantly, I know who you are, too.”
At that, Brent stiffened and grabbed Patrick’s arm, and not very gently. For the first time in her life, Marnie wondered if maybe she’d been lucky that he had walked out on her and Mom when she was young.
“Come on, Patrick. Let’s leave these losers to celebrate their ridiculous bookmarks.”
But just as they left the children’s
She still didn’t look at Collin.
This time, it was DeShawn. Instead of putting the bookmark in his treat bag, he took it from her and slipped it into the pocket of his overalls. “I don’t want it to get smushed by the candy.” His big brown eyes were so earnest that Marnie couldn’t help but beam at him in approval.
“That’s smart thinking, DeShawn.” The boy flashed a grin at her and skipped away.
The next child was a sullen-looking boy wearing a flashy, store-bought astronaut costume. Marnie’s stomach tightened. She knew that face. She’d seen it around town. Sharp chin. Heavy brow.
Even if she hadn’t seen him before, she’d recognize that look anywhere. Her own features, rendered in shades of disappointment.
She tried to hand the bookmark to him with minimal fuss, but he yanked it out of her hand and scowled. “This is a stupid treat. We were supposed to get candy.” He stomped away and dropped the bookmark into the trash bin next to the door.
Marnie couldn’t stop herself. Her jaw dropped. Behind her, Mrs. Cartwright gasped softly. She heard a few parents tsking in disapproval, but the one person who mattered—his father… Marnie’s father—didn’t seem to realize.
“Bookmarks suck. You promised me candy!” Her half-brother was shouting at their dad.
“Hey, Patrick, don’t blame me. I can’t control everyone’s treats. Don’t worry about it, you’ll still get plenty of candy. This was only one place and we still have the whole town left.”
Marnie blinked. Was that really the extent of it? Her dad was just going to console Patrick with promises of candy elsewhere, ignoring that his child had just tossed away something that she had paid for out of her own pocket?
She wanted to say something, but she felt paralyzed, as though this whole thing were happening to someone else. Besides, she didn’t even know what to call him, this man who had walked out on her so long ago. Certainly not Dad . Mr. Thomas felt too formal, though, despite the circumstances. Brent? Maybe. That was his name, after all.
“Excuse me.” A voice sounded from just to Marnie’s right. Low, masculine. Full of authority. “I don’t care how important you think candy is. Your kid just got a gift from Miss Thomas and not only did he not say thank you, he threw it away right in front of her. If you’re not going to say anything, then I will.”
Marnie wanted to melt into the floor. God. Someone was standing up for her. Someone with a lovely Irish accent and a calm, steady voice.
She looked over at Collin in gratitude, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was frowning at her father— Brent —who rolled his eyes and waved a hand in the air as though dismissing how unacceptable his kid’s behavior was. “Whatever. It’s a lame bookmark . Don’t get your panties in a bunch.”
She felt, rather than heard, the entire room suck in an angry breath. Before anyone else could jump in, Collin spoke again. “Children,” he announced, but he didn’t take his eyes off of her dad. “Saying things like what Patrick’s dad just said is wrong. Please don’t repeat that. Taking things from someone without saying thank you is wrong. Even if you don’t love the gift, someone spent time, thought, and probably money to give it to you. That deserves a thank you.”
“Who do you think you are?” Brent was scowling, jaw jutting out in belligerence.
“I’m Collin Morgan. And I know who I am. More importantly, I know who you are, too.”
At that, Brent stiffened and grabbed Patrick’s arm, and not very gently. For the first time in her life, Marnie wondered if maybe she’d been lucky that he had walked out on her and Mom when she was young.
“Come on, Patrick. Let’s leave these losers to celebrate their ridiculous bookmarks.”
But just as they left the children’s
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