“Nora,” I confirm. “She’s three. And she’s—” I search for the word. “A lot.”
Hazel claps her hands once, delighted. “I love her already.”
I roll my eyes knowing that she and Nora are going to be absolutely inseparable. I smile because normally I would never let anyone near my people, but Hazel isn’t just anyone.
The restaurant is low-key, family-friendly without being loud; the kind of place where no one looks twice at a tired-looking dad and his kid coloring on the table. Lincoln’s already there when we walk in, Nora perched beside him in a booster seat, her pink sneakers kicking against the chair legs like she’s powering up for something.
Her head snaps up the second she sees us.
“UNCLE ZAAACKKYYYYYY!” she announces, sliding off the seat with zero hesitation and barreling straight into my legs.
I catch her automatically, lifting her just enough that she squeals. “Hey, sweetie pie.” I go soft for this little ball of pure star fire, she’s known more pain than any child should, we’re kindredspirits in a way. I’ve just so happened to make it my personal goal in life to keep this little girl safe from anything else bad. No matter the cost.
She immediately cups my face in both hands, squinting at me like she’s inspecting a crime scene. “You’re scratchy.”
“Occupational hazard.”
Her gaze slides past me, locks onto Hazel, and her entire demeanor changes.
“Who’sthat?” she asks her little body wriggles, trying to escape and already halfway out of my arms.
Hazel crouches instantly, eyes bright. “Hi,” she says warmly. “I’m?—”
Before she can finish, Nora has wrapped her arms around Hazel’s neck like she’s known her forever.
“Oh,” Hazel breathes, laughing softly, her melodic laugh settles over me, and I feel at home in this moment. “Okay. We’re hugging now. I love that for us.”
Lincoln winces apologetically, his gentle face looking more tired than I’ve seen him, though you’d never know it. “Sorry. She decides things fast.”
“I respect that,” Hazel replies, grinning as Nora presses her cheek against hers.
Nora pulls back suddenly and gasps. “You’re pretty.”
Hazel pretends to swoon. “Wow. I’m keeping her.”
Then Nora’s attention snaps back to me like a magnet finding metal.
“Uncle Zacky,” she says seriously, pointing at my arm. “Your pictures.”
I glance down at the ink creeping out from under my sleeve. “Yeah?”
“Can I color them?”
Hazel bites her lip, trying not to laugh.
Lincoln groans quietly. “She’s been asking since she learned what markers are.”
I consider it for exactly one second. “Washable?”
Lincoln nods. “Very.”
Nora lights up like Christmas morning, her little mouth popping open in an absolutely adorable “O” shape.
“Deal,” I say.
She cheers, throws both arms in the air, then immediately starts explaining her artistic vision to Hazel in great detail as Lincoln goes to grab the markers from his bag.
Hazel leans over to me, her voice low and delighted. “She’s perfect.”
