I don’t know how she did it. How she knew I was thinking about her, somehow though she did. Before I even had a chance to get up, I heard her cries just before she wobbled through the door, holding her bleeding finger out in front of her, fat tears rolling down her chubby cheeks. Scooping her up in my arms, I grabbed her hand and looked at her finger. For the amount of tears, squeals, and blood, you’d think her finger was barely attached. When I looked though, there was a tiny little splinter sticking out.
“Let me have a look.”
It took a bit of coaxing, but with her head burrowed in the crook of my neck, Matilda let me squeeze her finger until it popped out. “Better?”
The tears stopped almost immediately and I set her back on her feet. I’d completely forgotten where I was, that was the sort of all-consuming pull that girl had over me. Forget everything but her. I guess that was the way it was supposed to be when you’re a mother.
“You’re so good with her.” The deep, raspy voice shocked me, reminding me where I was.
“Th-thanks.”
“Mummmmmmmm,” Matilda complained.
“That’s my cue. You right here?”
Nate’s eyes darted back and forth as Matilda curled herself around my leg. “Yeah.”
Lifting my squirming daughter back into my arms, I took another look at Nate. He looked a little better, but was still pretty out of it. “You should get some rest. Take your shirt back off and lay down.”
“Trying to get me out of my clothes now, are you?”
He waggled his eyebrows and I almost melted.
Fine, I did melt.
The only thing keeping me from throwing myself on top of him was the sweaty coating covering his pale face and red-rimmed eyes. Well, that and ten kilos of toddler in my arms.
“Keep dreaming, Nate. Get some sleep.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll give you a call later.”
