Mickey Mouse asked the viewer if they could spot a duck, and Aleesa pointed and screamed, “Right there!”
In the kitchen, Octavia shuffled through the fridge. I approached the island counter, where the stovetop was. A pot was on top, with steam starting to waft out of it.
Octavia stepped back with a jar of pasta sauce and a carton of heavy cream, kicking the fridge door shut.
I studied her a moment, noticing her hands were still shaking as she tried opening the ravioli. I walked around the counter, touching her hand to stop her. She froze.
“Octavia, look at me.”
She shook her head, biting hard into her bottom lip.
“Please.”
“I should finish cooking.”
“The food can wait.”
“Leesa is hungry.”
“Okay, I will feed her. But you are in no condition to cook.”
She started to pull away from me, but I caught her with a gentle hand around her upper arm.
I tilted her chin with my fingers, and her eyes were filled to the brim with tears. Her mouth quivered, and before I knew it, she buried her face into my chest and released a raw, choked sob.
My eyes stung as I closed my arms around her, feeling her body tremble and the pain travel through her body.
“I’m sorry,” she cried.
“It’s okay,” I whispered, stroking her back.
“I just ...” Her words failed her, translating to another sob.
I felt something rub across my leg and looked down. Aleesa stood next to us, staring up, her face drooping with sadness.
“What’s wrong, Tava?”
Octavia gently freed herself, swiping at her eyes. Even with her tears, she smiled at Aleesa. “Don’t worry, angel. I’m okay. I just ... needed to process my feelings for a second.”
I picked Aleesa up and rested her on my hip. Feeling sad herself, Aleesa rested her head on my shoulder. I kissed her cheek, then said, “Maybe a hug will help Tava feel better.”
Eager, Aleesa sat up with a big smile and leaned toward Octavia. Octavia bubbled out a bittersweet laugh as she grabbed hold of Aleesa. My daughter closed her arms around Octavia’s neck and murmured, “It’s okay, Tava.”
Octavia closed her eyes, most likely fighting another surge of tears. “Thank you, my sweet girl. Everything is definitely okay when I’m with you.”
“I will order pizza,” I said, already pulling my phone out of my back pocket.
“No, Javier. You don’t have to do that. Seriously, I’m fine. I have one job, and it’s to take care of Leesa and feed her good food.”
“Octavia.” My voice was low but stern.
“I already bought all the ingredients,” she went on.
“Octavia,” I tried again, still stern.
“Yes?” she whispered, keeping her glossy eyes on me.
“I am ordering pizza for us, okay?”
