"Near both of us."
She takes a bite of bacon and closes her eyes. "God, this is good."
"Alright, let me go get this one bathed and dressed so we can drop her at school and then I'll drop you at work."
"Alright."
Anya's bedroom is a disaster of pink and purple and sparkles. She designed it herself by pointing at things in a catalog and screaming "that one" until we gave in. There is a princess canopy over her bed and a mountain of stuffed animals in the corner and glitter on surfaces that should never have glitter on them.
I set her down on her bed and hand her a warm glass of water and she takes it with both hands while still half asleep and gulps the whole thing down.
"Morning, Papa," she mumbles when she is done and hands the glass back to me.
"Good morning, my princess.”
I scoop her up again and carry her to the bathroom, and the second she sees the tub her eyes go wide.
"Papa." Her voice is urgent. "Papa, please don't make me go to school today."
"You know we can't do that. Your mama is going to be very upset if you don't go to school, and school isn't even for the whole day."
"No." She grabs onto my arm. "I don't want to go, I don't want to go, I want to stay with you."
"Don't start this again, princess."
But she is already crying with fat tears rolling down her cheeks as I lift her into the warm water, and she sobs through the entire bath while hiccupping and sniffling and grabbing at my hands
"Papa, please, Papa, no, I don't like school, why should I have to study when I can already talk?"
I wash her hair and keep the soap out of her eyes. "How about this, after school we get ice cream and cupcakes."
She sniffles. "We already have ice cream and cupcakes every day so you have to convince me more."
She is still crying but I can see the crack in the performance now, the tiny smile trying to break through. She is three but she is already a negotiator who knows exactly how to work me.
She is her mother's daughter.
"Okay," I say slowly. "How about this, you go to school like a good girl and when you come home you get to help Papa with a very important secret mission."
The tears stop immediately and her eyes go round. "A secret mission?"
"A very important one."
"Am I gonna help Papa with his spy mission?"
I keep my face serious. She thinks I am a spy who fights bad guys and saves the world and comes home smelling like victory. She does not know and she can never know that her papa is the bad guy everyone else is afraid of.
"Yes," I tell her. "We're going to do something very secretive, something special, but you can't tell Mama about it."
Her face lights up. "A secret from Mama?"
"A secret for Mama, there's a difference."
She considers this and wipes her nose with the back of her hand. "Throw in the stuffed bear from the store window and you got a deal."
"You're adding conditions now?"
"Yes.
