“No.”At least, I was really fucking hoping it wasn’t.I didn’t need to deal with ghosts on top of the transition that came with a move this big. “I just don’t know if it’s safe for you to play in yet.”
“Maybe the chickens could live in the barn,” she said.
“That’s a solid idea,” I said.
“What would you name a chicken, Daddy?” Aria asked. I opened and promptly closed my mouth because never in my lifehad I wanted chickens, and I didn’t have a clue what I’d name one.
“Is that our house?” Aria shrieked when I turned down a dirt road, her volume making me cringe. We passed through a gate for a wooden fence—one of those simple ones that wasn’t designed to keep anything out—and drove under an arch of trees that promised to be impressive when their leaves changed colors. The house was just barely visible at the end of the long stretch of road.
“Yeah, that’s our house,” I said. A stream of excited commentary fell off her lips on rapid fire, the words stringing together in a way that I couldn’t understand. It did make me laugh, though.
I stopped in front of the house, and as soon as the engine was off, Aria was out of the car. I hurried after her on the off chance she tried to run inside.
“Look at all the space!” she screamed. She ran through the grass, swinging Sir Bites-a-lot around happily. “We can have so many chickens!”
“We’re not having four acres of chickens,” I said.
“We can talk about that later,” she replied. “We need more friends here.”
I knew she was in herwant-a-siblingphase, but there was very little I could or would do about that. I didn’t want two kids. I was considering getting her a puppy, though. Because I worked from home, a puppy was feasible.
Her little body slammed into mine, and her arms wrapped tight around me. She squeezed as she danced in place, unable to hold still.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” The phrase fell out of her on repeat, the words jumbling together. Bending slightly, I hauled her off the ground for a hug, getting hit in the face by a bear in the process. “I love it, I love it, I love it!”
“You haven’t even seen the inside yet,” I reminded her. A small nudge of anxiety tried to claw its way to the surface because what if she didn’t love it? What if I’d picked the wrong house? What if—
I shut my eyes and forced myself to take a deep breath as I counted to five like my therapist had taught me to stem the onslaught of anxiety. I couldn’t control the what-ifs in any situation. If she didn’t like something about the house, then we’d figure it out.Besides, she was more concerned with how many chickens she could put on four acres than with anything else.
Everything would be fine.
Itwasfine.
“Ready to see the inside?” I asked, and she nodded against my shoulder.
“I like the porch,” she said as I carried her up the steps. “It’s big.”
“It’s very big.”
“And it decorates the whole house?”
“Yeah.”
“What if we got rocking chairs for the frontandthe back?”
“You know what,” I began as I set her down in front of the door, “I think that’s a great idea. Should we get a third one for each set in case we have visitors?”
“Yes! I love people!”She did.And that was clearly not a thing she got from me.
“I know you do. I have one more very big surprise for you,” I told her, putting my hands on her shoulders. I positioned her in front of the door and held her in place. She practically vibrated with anticipation under my hands. “Are you ready?”
“Yes!” Aria exclaimed.
“Are you sure?” I teased.
“Yes!” she shrieked.
Reaching over her shoulder, I opened the door. Standing in the living room under a sparklingWelcome Homesign was Holly. The screaming ensued, unimaginably loud, shrill, and ear-piercing. I quickly gave Aria a tiny push forward past the threshold and closed the door, leaving them both on the other side to scream with their excitement.
