“Because that’s where all her stuff is.”
She shrugs like that’s a logical answer.
Asher drops his forearms to his knees, zeroing in on her. “I just want to make sure you understand that Claire’s leaving in a few days.”
“I understand,” she parrots back.
“All right. Good,” he says. It’s the best he’s going to get with a five-year-old. Standing, he dusts the sand off his lap. “C’mon, Dolly. Time to go inside.” With one hand holding the remaining lettuce, he offers his other to help her up, then turns to me. “You coming?”
With my gaze fixed on the clouds in the sky, I shake my head. “I’ll sit out here a little longer, if that’s okay.”
As the two walk up the path, Bea says, “Can wepleaseget a bunny, Daddy?”
36
Asher
“If we don’t leave now,we’re going to be late.”
No answer.
“Bea?”
Just as I’m about to haul my butt to the back of the house and drag her to the car, she literallyskipsinto the kitchen. And despite the frustration that has been mounting in me the last few minutes, the sight puts a smile on my face.
A second later, my joy is snatched away as I consider at what age Bea will stop skipping. She’s already given up sucking her thumb and calling me “Dada.” She’s potty trained and sleeps in a big-girl bed, and next week, she’s off to kindergarten.Kindergarten!Life is flying by way too quickly. I may need to hit up my therapist soon.
Bea skids across the floor in the purple cowboy boots she got for her birthday and a matching tutu.
Bending to her level, I boop her on the nose. “A tutu is an excellent choice for meeting your teacher, Dolly.”
Her cherub face breaks into the brightest of smiles, and Ivow silently to never dictate what she wears. At least until her first date.
Twirling, and nearly falling over from momentum, she announces, “Daddy, did you know Claire knows how to do Uncle Ezra’s man bun?” She points to the semi secure knot on the top of her head, her fingernails freshly painted blue, the same color as the nails of the woman who’s just entered the kitchen behind her.
“I’m aware,” I reply, having become quite acquainted with Claire’s hair over the last few months.
“Daddy, can I get my ears pierced too?”
“I swear I had nothing to do with that.” Claire holds her hands up in defense.
I shake my head. “We’ll talk about that another time. Are you ready?” I ask my daughter, standing and ignoring the way my knees crack.
“Yup,” she shouts.
“You two have fun,” Claire says. “I can’t wait to hear all about it.”
Bea whips around, hands on her hips. “You’re not coming?”
Claire opens her mouth, but no words come out.
“Claire has to pack,” I tell Bea. “We talked about this. Remember? She’s going back home, where Mimi and Papa live.”
Technically, she’s already packed up, minus her toiletries in the bathroom, but Natalie convinced her to stay a couple of extra nights when she discovered that Claire didn’t have to rush back for anything pressing.
“But she has to come.” My little girl dashes over and wraps her arms around Claire’s waist.
Claire returns the embrace, but her eyes nearly bug out as she stares at me, no doubt as perplexed as I am about what to do next.
