"Like what?" I ask.
"Like he wants to kiss Maren."
My heart stops. Maren's eyes go wide. And then Lilliana giggles.
"You do want to kiss her! I knew it!"
"Lilliana—" I start, but Maren catches my eye and gives a tiny nod.
We're doing this.Now.
"Come here, sweetheart," I say, patting the couch between us. Lilliana scrambles up, looking curious but not worried. "Maren and I need to talk to you about something."
"Are you boyfriend and girlfriend?" she asks immediately.
I blink. "How did you>"
"You've been looking at each other funny for likeforever," she says matter-of-factly. "And yesterday when we were building Bernard, you were being all weird and smiley."
Maren laughs. "Okay, so we're not as subtle as we thought."
"So it's true?" Lilliana looks between us. "You're together?"
"Yes," I confirm. "Is that... okay with you?"
She thinks about it for a moment. "Does that mean Maren isn't my nanny anymore?"
"Well, we'd have to figure that out," Maren says carefully. "But I'd still be here. Still spending time with you. I'm not going anywhere."
"So you'll live here? Like, all the time?"
I glance at Maren. We haven't talked about that yet, but the hope in Lilliana's voice makes the decision easy.
"Would you like that?" I ask.
"Yes!" Lilliana throws her arms around both of us. "Can she move into your room, Daddy? Then I can have the guest apartment for sleepovers!"
Maren's laughing, and I'm trying to figure out how my seven-year-old just negotiated living arrangements, but mostly I'm just relieved.
"So you're okay with this?" I press. "Really okay?"
Lilliana pulls back and looks at me seriously. "Daddy, I already told you I loved Maren. And you love her too. So why wouldn't I be okay?"
"You're a wise kid," Maren says, pulling her close.
Lilliana grins. Then, because she's seven and has no filter: "So can I call you Mom now?"
Maren's breath catches, and my chest goes tight.
"Maybe not yet," I say gently, even though the idea makes something warm bloom in my chest. "Let's take things slow, okay? But someday, if you both want that, then yes."
"Okay." Lilliana seems satisfied with that. Then, with the attention span of a child: "Can we have hot chocolate now?"
Just like that, the moment's over. She's already moving on to the next thing, resilient and happy and completely accepting.
Maren and I exchange a look over Lilliana's head, and I can see the same wonder and relief I'm feeling reflected in her eyes.
This is really happening. We're really doing this.
