“Natascha.” The correction was automatic, sharp. She’d been doing this for three years now, ever since the rebrand. When I’d married her, she’d been Natasha. Regular spelling. Regular everything. “And they could be. The photographer said Alice has perfect bone structure.”
“She’s five.”
“It’s never too early to start building their portfolios.” She pulled out her phone, already swiping. “Look, I’ll send you the shots. They’re gorgeous. Alice’s engagement numbers were through the roof last time.”
My hands curled into fists at my sides. “Thanks for dropping them off.”
Her eyes flicked up from her phone, and something flared across her face. Annoyance, maybe. Or hurt. Hard to tell anymore. “Of course.” She leaned down and air-kissed both girls, careful not to smudge whatever was on her lips. “Mommy loves you. I’ll see you next week.”
“Bye, Mommy,” they chorused.
I ushered the girls inside and closed the door, letting out a breath.
Alice tugged on my hand. “Can we have mac and cheese for dinner?”
“We had mac and cheese yesterday,” Audrey pointed out, already heading for the stairs to drop her overnight bag.
“So?”
“So, we can’t have it every day.”
“Why not?”
Audrey paused on the third step, turning with all the authority of a seven-year-old who knew she was right. “Because you’ll turn into a noodle.”
Alice’s face scrunched up as she considered this. “I don’t want to be a noodle.”
“Yes, you do! Noodles are delicious!”
“But then someone might eat me!”
I could see this spiraling. Time to deploy a distraction. “Before we think about dinner, I’ve got something to show you.”
Both girls perked up immediately. “What kind of something?” Audrey asked, abandoning her bag on the stairs.
“You’ll see. Come on.”
I led them through the house and out the back door. The moment we stepped onto the deck and they saw the trampoline, they both gasped.
“Is that...” Audrey’s voice had gone high and breathless. “Is that ours?”
“What do you think?”
They stood frozen for maybe two seconds, eyes huge. Then they were running, their delighted shrieks splitting the quiet of the yard. Audrey reached it first, immediately dropping down to yank off her shoes. Alice struggled with her Velcro straps, fingers fumbling.
“Here.” Audrey knelt beside her sister, helping with the straps. “You gotta pull this part first.”
Then they were both climbing on, the springs creaking under their weight. Light, careful bounces at first, testing it out. Then bigger ones as they gained confidence, holding hands and giggling when they went off rhythm and bumped into each other.
“Be careful,” I called, but I was already grinning. This was worth it. Worth wrestling with that damn frame all afternoon in the heat. Worth the sore shoulders and the frustration and the rust on the gate that had fought me.
Worth Emily’s help.
The thought popped up uninvited, and I shoved it away. Not going there.
“Daddy, come jump with us!” Alice shouted, already attempting a spin that sent her stumbling sideways into Audrey.
“In a minute. Let me make sure it’s safe first.”
