“She has to be,” Grandma Nancy replies. “She’s practically a young lady now. I heard you’re going to be three verysoon.”
Chloe grins proudly. “I young yady.”
“Yes, you are, sweetheart,” Grandma Nancy says, kissing the top of her head.
Camden brings out a small appetizer plate and sets it in front of Chloe—three tiny rolls shaped like sea animals.
Chloe gasps. “Fish bread!”
Grandma Donna covers her mouth, delighted. “Oh, look at her joy.”
Grandma Nancy leans closer to inspect the plate. “My goodness, they’re adorable. Look at that dolphin. Almost too cute to eat.”
Chloe picks up the turtle and whispers, “Hi, friend,” stroking its little bread shell.
Dylan grins at me. “She’s so cute sometimes I can’t take it.”
“I know,” I whisper. “Same.”
“Dylan, remember naming a fish after your math teacher?” Grandma Donna asks.
Dylan glares playfully. “I was eight.”
“And the fish was very judgmental,” Grandma Nancy says. “Just like Mrs. Kline.”
Grandma Donna nods solemnly. “It was the eyebrows.”
The table bursts into laughter.
“I wish I had a side-by-side picture of that fish and Mrs. Kline. It’s so true,” Dylan says, laughing harder.
For the first time all day—maybe all week—I feel something close to steady again.
I’m surrounded by love.
Kindness.
By people who show up.
And don’t expect anything but love in return.
As I look around the table at all these faces beaming at me, I know this is exactly where I’m meant to be.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
HEY, SHORTY
DYLAN
A couple of weeks later, it’s Chloe’s birthday. Three years old. I swear she went to bed a toddler and woke up a CEO. She marches into the kitchen like she’s got a board meeting to run—Bill tucked under her arm like her tiny, long-bodied assistant.
Bill looks half asleep and entirely resigned to his fate. He manages to look stoic even while his butt is being dragged on the floor by a three-year-old. These two have been glued together ever since we got back from California, and it’s the cutest damn thing I’ve ever seen. Chloe carries him everywhere. And he lets her. Happily. The dog worships her.
“There’s the birthday girl!” Dahlia says, going over to hug Chloe.
“Happy birthday, Princess Chloe,” I say, hugging her…and Bill.
She does a little curtsy and then climbs onto her chair and sets Bill in front of her. She pats his head once like she’s crowning him king, then announces, “It’s his birfday too.”
