Here We Come (Aggie's Inheritance) (36 page)

The
child
wrinkled
her
nose.
“No
it
won’t.
You
can’t
stir
with
a
candy
cane
if
the
flavors
are
funny.”

“Good
point,”
William
agreed,
“but
since
I
don’t
have
any
candy
canes,
I
think
it’ll
work.
”

As
he
watched
his
little
friend,
her
first
teeth
missing
just
in
time
for
singing
about
them
at
Christmas,
he
saw
her
mouth
droop
as
she
leaned
her
head
on
his
arm.
“What’s
wrong,
Kenzie?
Aren’t
you
feeling
well?”

“Yeah.”

“
You
look
like
you
lost
a
friend.”

Kenzie’s
lip
quivered
and
she
whispered.
“I
lost
the
daddy
I
wanted.”

“The
daddy
you
wanted?”

Several
seconds
passed
before
Kenzie
responded
at
all.
She
stood,
removed
the
box
from
William’s
hand,
and
set
it
on
the
table
behind
him.
Then,
as
if
something
she
did
every
day,
she
climbed
up
into
his
lap,
wrapped
her
arms
around
his
neck,
and
whispered
into
his
ear,
“I
love
Luke—Uncle
Luke,
I
guess—but
I
wanted
you
to
be
my
u
ncle-
d
addy.”

William’s
throat
constricted
as
he
squeezed
the
little
girl.
“I
would
have
been
proud
to
be
your
uncle-daddy,
but
I
didn’t
want
to
marry
Aggie,
sweetheart.
We
wouldn’t
have
been
happy,
and
it
would
have
made
Aggie
and
Luke
unhappy.
You
wouldn’t
like
that,
would
you?”

“You
all
could
have
learned
to
be
happy.
Luke
could
have
married
Aunt
Tina.”

“I
think,”
he
whispered,
trying
to
word
his
answer
as
simply
and
carefully
as
possible,
“most
people
don’t
want
to
have
to
try
to
be
happy
from
the
beginning.
God
knows
what
H
e’s
doing,
Kenzie.
He
knows.”

“That’s
true.
I
think
it’s
time
for
the
breath
contest.
I
want
to
win
that.”

“Breath
contest?”

Kenzie
grinned.
“Yep.
Come
on.
You
play
too.”

Laird
called
the
room
to
order
once
more,
blissfully
ignorant
of
the
frustrated
expressions
on
the
partiers
faces.
“Ok,
the
bride
is
supposed
to
take
‘our
breath
away
,
’
so
this
game
is
simple.
Hold
your
breath!”

Luke
and
Aggie
exchanged
pained
glances
before
Aggie
turned
to
Libby
and
mouthed,
“What
on
earth?”

Libby
scooted
around
a
couple
of
guests
and
whispered,
“They
really
thought
everyone
would
want
to
play
games
‘like
a
shower
,
’
so
they
worked
hard
on
these.
I
think
everyone
understands,”
into
Aggie’s
ear.

Most
of
the
room
made
a
big
show
of
puffing
out
their
cheeks,
holding
their
breath
for
about
ten
seconds,
and
then
exhaling
in
a
gush
of
air.
The
prior
conversations
continued
as
if
uninterrupted,
but
Aggie
and
Luke
played
along
with
the
rest
of
the
children.
Twenty-one,
twenty-two,
Aggie
exhaled,
gasping
for
air.
“I’m
lousy!”
Luke
only
made
it
a
few
more
seconds
before
he
slowly
released
the
air
in
his
lungs
and
took
a
deep
breath.
“I’m
not
much
better.”