“I wanna see all of those!”
“Maybe when you come home we’ll make plans for a farm day.”
“Okay. That’s a deal. Pinky promise.”
She sticks out her pinky and we link.
“Pinky promise,” I repeat, swallowing the soft lump in my throat.
Four days, Hallie. You can do this.
An orange Corvette pulls into the parking lot, right up next to my van.
Mia peers out of the window. “Daddy! It’s Daddy!”
I smile at her and hop out, grabbing her duffel off the passenger seat.
She’s excited. Let her have this.
“Hey,” I say softly to Danny.
He looks a little older—different, but the same. Like bread that sat in the bread drawer a few days past expiration. Okay. He doesn’t look that bad, but it takes the edge off to think of him as stale bread. Greyson’s fresh out of the oven—the kind where the crust knocks back at you, but then you slice in and all you find is delicious warmth and flavors you want to spend your life consuming.
Okay. No more bread for me. That’s plenty.
“Hey, Mia!” Danny extends his arms and Mia jettisons into them. “How’s my girl?”
My molars could crack.
He releases Mia and glances my way. “Hey, Hal. Good to see you.”
“You too.” A lie seems best—for Mia’s sake.
“How have you been?” he asks.
“Good. Her outfits are all in here. I sent a few extras and a nice dress in case … you know, if you go out or whatever. She has a phone. It’s set up so she can call me or Mom or Avery anytime. It’s just a burner phone. No games. No apps. Ummm …”
“She’ll be fine, Hallie.”
“I know. I’m just trying to think if there’s anything you need to know.”
“We’ve got this, don’t we, kiddo?” he asks Mia.
“Yeah. We’ve got this.”
“Okay.” I blow out a breath, turn to Mia and squat down at eye level. “Call me for anything. Anytime. And have a blast.”
“I’ll call you for knock-knocks.”
“Deal,” I say, tugging her into a hug.
She grips me tightly and holds on longer than usual.
I pull her back when her grip loosens, my hands on her arms. “You good?”
“Yeah, Mommy. I’m going to have so much fun. You have some fun too.”
“I’ll do my best,” I promise her.
