With that, Milo shrugged off his jacket, took a steadying breath, and strode through the house toward the back door in the kitchen.
I made the delivery order with the baby cooing on my hip before walking into the kitchen.
When I looked out the window, what did I see?
My damn husband with a wadded-up leaf/mud/God-knows-what ball in his hand and a body covered in impact zones from the boys nailing him with the mud balls.
“And here I was thinking I only had three boys,” I told our girl, kissing her soft forehead. “You wanna see me hose down your daddy?” I asked, getting a little squeal.
Out the window, Milo scooped up our youngest boy, using him as a human shield as he shrieked and flailed.
Alley hopped up on the windowsill, watching the scene, then looking back at me.
“I know,” I said, nodding at her. “That’s our man, huh?” I said as the remaining two boys took advantage of Milo slipping and falling to his knees and dog-piled him. “I think we chose pretty well.”
Milo - 25 years
“Is it just me, or is she really good?” I asked as our daughter stepped off the little stage inside the building thatserved as Cressida’s Entertainment Academy. Named after Roe’s grandmother.
It was a place that held classes for dancing, instruments, and, of course, voice lessons and singing.
And maybe I was partial, but I felt comfortable saying that our little girl was the star student.
“No,” Roe said, coming to stand next to me as our girl went from singing to stretching at the barre. “No, she is really that good. Like scary good. Like I’m kind of envious of my own daughter good.”
“To be fair, she’s good at everything.”
Our youngest child was also the most high-achieving. If there was an activity in school or a club to join, she was all over it. Then, within weeks, she was scoring all the goals, breaking records, or leading initiatives.
She was so into everything that it was hard at times to figure out what she was doing just to look good on her future college applications, or what she genuinely loved.
But seeing her sing or dance made me think she had that same passion her mother and great-grandmother had.
Whether or not her high-achieving self would allow her to pursue that kind of future was anyone’s guess.
But it was amazing to watch her sing or dance. It was like all the stress she carried on her shoulders melted away, and she was authentically herself.
“She is,” Roe agreed. “The perfect mix of intelligence, talent, and beauty. She’s going to be a force to be reckoned with. Just like her great-grandmother,” she said, looking at the pictures on the wall.
The academy became the home to much of Cressida’s memorabilia. Including some notes from a few very rich and famous men.
Though I did insist that we add a few pictures of Roe on stage from her various appearances at Remo’s casino over the years.
Once she’d settled into her role as a mom, she largely saved her singing for the kids. But as the kids got older and she had more free time, she had an idea to bring the joy of singing (and dancing and music) to as many kids in Navesink Bank as she could.
Unsurprisingly, it had been a big success.
Their Christmas showcase had brought in enough money to start a scholarship for kids from harsher socioeconomic backgrounds to take classes.
“What time is it?” our girl called, making us jump.
“Um… four,” Roe said. “Where are you going?”
“I told Grandma I’d be there at four-thirty.”
“For what?” I asked.
“She’s teaching me to make Sfogliatelle Ricce.”
