I crouched down to her eye level and held out the package. "I got this for you."
She unwrapped it slowly, working the ribbon off first, putting the ribbon in the front pocket of her hoodie — saving it for later — and then she unfolded the brown paper without ripping it.
The book was a hardcover, big-format, marine biology illustrated guide, specifically on cephalopods. The cover had a giant Pacific octopus with all its arms.
Bonnie went very still.
She read the title and subtitle, traced one of the octopus's arms with her finger, then looked up at me, eyes gleaming.
"I haven't read this one."
"I know. I figured you liked octopuses."
She nodded once. Then she stepped forward, put both arms around my neck, and hugged me tight.
"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"
She let me go and held the book against her chest with both arms.
I stood up.
Sabrina was leaning on the doorframe with one shoulder, her arms crossed.
"Cross."
"Yeah?"
"Don't make her like you any more than she already does."
I let myself smile. "No promises."
We drove out of the city. The aquarium was in the harbor. Bonnie was in the back seat with the book on her lap, reading aloud — fast, calling out facts to the front seat as she went.
"Mom, they have an arm that's a tongue."
"They do?"
"They taste with their suckers."
"That's a lot, baby."
"Beau."
I caught Bonnie's eye in the rearview. "Yeah?"
"Did you know an octopus has three hearts?"
I thought for a second.
Three hearts. A creature with three hearts and a daughter in the back seat with one that wasn't quite working. I took a breath and came back.
“I didn’t know that.”
“Two pump blood through the gills, and one pumps blood through the rest of the body.”
“That’s important information for me to have.”
“I’m telling you because it’s important.”
