He puttered around for a few hours, putting his supplies and tools in order, and moving some of his current projects from the trailer to the long bench which spanned the north wall. He also swept the floor with a bedraggled broom he found in the closet. Despite her obvious competence, he was not sure whether he wanted Maria in his private sanctum.

He was just thinking about whether or not to try to get some work done on his project, or if it was time to go find some Lunch when the door opened and he heard an excited voice squeal, “Daddy!”

He turned around just in time to catch his daughter as she leaped into his arms. Sarah's face was shining as she hugged him tight.

“No hugs!" he exclaimed, cradling her body as her legs wrapped around him. "No hugs from girls. Girls are gross!"

Sarah laughed, and instead dotted his face with kisses.

“Ack! Ew! Urgh!" he said, "No kisses! No kisses!" He spun and relaxed his arms, allowing Sarah to slide to the floor. "God, look at you," he said. "You're almost as tall as me. Aren't you going to stop growing soon?"

“I think I have," his daughter replied with a smile. She twirled around. "See?"

“Well, good," he said, shaking his head in mock-dismay. "It's not fair for a man to have a daughter taller than he is. I don't know where you and your brother get it from. No one on my side of the family has ever topped six feet. You're only a few inches shy of that, and Alex is well over."

“Grandpa Wainwright was pretty big before he died.”

“Yeah, but your mom's tiny." He smiled down at his youngest child.

Sarah's dark brown hair was a match for her brother's. Tall and rangy, she seemed to vibrate with healthy young energy. And somehow, despite her mania for cooking, she never seemed to gain a pound of fat. He sighed for a moment, regretful that his differences with Rachel had caused him to miss much of the last three years of his daughter's life.

She wasn't a child any longer. Or even an adolescent. Rather, she was an attractive young woman, who, if he had his way, would soon be able to pursue the culinary career she was so obviously suited to.

“Mm hmm," she said.

“So how long are you going to be here? Are you going to stay? Please tell me you are," she begged, her eyes filled with Low cunning.

“Trying to wrap your old man around your finger again, huh? I don't know, Sarah," he sighed, answering her question. "Sometimes things break so badly it's best not to try to fix them. I'm willing to give it another chance. And so is Rachel. But this is the Last time. I'm not going to yo-yo between here and Peru every time your mom gets to feeling lonely."

“Why, Daddy," his daughter exclaimed, her eyes wide and innocent.

“You don't want to be the one on the end of the line when Mom makes a booty call?"

He snorted, smiling. "Your mother is a terrific person, Pumpkin," he said, using his old nickname for her. "But I'm not going to settle for half a loaf. Either we are together, or we aren't. This half-assed relationship we're in isn't helping either of us."

Sarah nodded, then wandered over to the worktable.

“These are new, aren't they?" she asked. "They weren't here the last time I was in here."