“But she’s taking a really long time to come back from her trip.”
In that moment, I hated myself for asking. I hated the sad, confused shadow that fell over her face whenever their mother’s prolonged absence came up.
“She’ll be back, my love. And until then, you have your father to take care of you.”
“And you’re going to take care of us too, right?”
I was, but not for long. The thought of leaving them already hurt more than I ever could have imagined when I made this deal.
“I’m taking care of you right now,” I said, my voice softening. “But enough talk, let’s start pedaling?”
Then she surprised me, throwing her arms around my neck in a tight hug.
“I love you, Evy,” she declared.
The words sent a sharp, aching lump to my throat. I hugged her back, and for a moment, I never wanted to let go. “I love you too, little one. I love you and your sister, very much. But you need to be a good girl for your daddy, too. Because he loves you just as much.”
She pulled back, looking at me with suspicion. “Does hereally? For real?”
“Of course he does. How could anyone not love you both?”
“But he didn’t even know who was me and who was Rory. He mixed us up and was always busy.”
“But he doesn’t mix you up anymore, does he? And he’s not too busy now. He’ll have to go back to work soon, but he’ll always make time for you.”
“Evy…” she leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Can I tell you a secret?”
I leaned closer, matching her tone. “Maybe yes.”
“You know the bicycles?”
“I know. What about them?”
“I know it wasn’t Santa Claus.”
“Really? Then who was it?”
“It was…him.”
I pressed my lips together to contain my laughter. “Him? Your father?”
She nodded solemnly. She glanced back at Logan and Rory, then turned to me again, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I know he was the one who put the bikes and the ballet outfit by the tree. But I didn't tell Rory. She was so happy thinking it was Santa Claus."
My heart swelled at her sweetness. Most kids, upon discovering the truth, make it their mission to shatter the illusion for everyone. I remembered doing exactly that to Camila. But Anna, so young, had chosen to protect her sister's magic.
"That's a wonderful secret to keep," I whispered back. "I promise I won't tell. So... don't you think what your dad did was pretty cool?"
"I guess..." she conceded, a thoughtful frown on her face. "He's not a totally silly deep down."
I couldn't help but smile. "Yeah. I think so too."
We shared a look of understanding before I stood, helping her onto her bike. I held the seat, running alongside her as she pedaled toward her sister. The two immediately started a race to a distant bench, and Logan and I found ourselves sprinting after them, gripping the backs of their bikes.
We’d occasionally let go without them noticing, watching with bated breath as they wobbled with newfound independence before swooping in to steady them again. This went on for hours. We broke for lunch, then started all over. I was utterly exhausted, marveling at the girls' boundless energy.
By mid-afternoon, they finally relented, lured by the promise of hot dogs. I let Logan lead them to a nearby stand, and I seized the moment to collapse onto the curb, my body aching from the day's exertion.
From my spot on the ground, I watched the three of them. Rory was completely attached to her father, perched on his hip. He instinctively turned to face her when he spoke, and he was already understanding much of her signing. Anna, while more reserved, allowed herself to smile in his presence. It was a huge step forward.
