I lift my gaze, waiting for the sulk. Instead, Calista flips me the bird and leaves my office smiling. April just shakes her head, too used to our antics, and trails after her best friend.
The door clicks shut, and I Facetime my girls. “My.Girls.” I claim it out loud in safe quarters, relishing the S sound.
Mia answers on the second ring. They’ve moved on to dinner—chopping veggies side by side. I watch them, a smile begging my rolling lips to give in to it. Mia doesn’t spare me a glance, her focus locked on Lily’s hand bracing the carrot and the other gripping the knife. “Fingers in, remember?”
“Oh yeah,” my child answers, tucking her fingers under. She chops once, then looks up. “Like this?”
“Just like that. Great job, love. You’re mysous cheffrom now on.”
Lily laughs, admitting she doesn’t know what that means—but that smile says she likes the sound of it anyway.
I’m hyperaware of Mia calling herloveand can’t help wondering when—or if—my turn will come.
“Are you coming home for dinner, Dad? We’remaking…” Lily looks up at Mia, face blank. “What are we making again?”
“Shepherd’s pie.”
“That’s right. But with lamb.” She says it loud, with pure thrill, as though it’s her first taste ever.
“That’s the only kind, Lils. With beef, it’s cottage pie.” Mia finally glances at me, and I take her in. She steals my breath every time. Even through a tiny screen. I doubt it’ll ever change.
“What are you teaching this kid?” she teases.
I shoot back, “Clearly, I have no idea what I’m doing. That’s why I need you.”
“Blimey, Pres.” She smirks without looking away from the chopping board. “Careful. You almost made that sound like a compliment.”
“Daaaad, are you coming for dinner?” Lily pipes up, eyes bright.
“And how’s your friend?” Mia asks.
“I’m coming home in a bit. Surgery went as well as we could hope, but I’ll have to head back tonight to check on her.”
“Come home. We’ll get you fed, fresh, and ready to go back there in no time.”
This could work. This could definitely work.
CHAPTER FIFTY
preston
The car keysjangle in my hand as I swap them for the house keys. I’m halfway up the steps when laughter behind me makes me turn. My girls spill out of a taxi—Mia with a bag in her arms, Lily bouncing at her side.
“Hey, I expected you two to be inside.”
Mia hoists the bag higher. “We went out to buy sparkling juice to celebrate your friend being okay.”
“Yeah,” Lily chimes in. She runs straight into my arms, and I scoop her up, locking her in a bear hug. My eyes, though, stay fixed on Mia, and refuse to leave.
The gesture floors me. Sweet and more than I deserve. How is it possible that someone I never wanted under my roof has brought me back to life and rearranged my world against my better judgment? She’s put every piece in its rightful place. Even my heart, once flatlined, is now hammering against my ribs.
We eat. We toast. My cheeks ache from the sheer contentment of being cherished. Of coming home from work and finding a celebratory dinner, made by the mostimportant person in my world… and the one quickly claiming second place. The woman who completes this picture, and who this night would not be the same without.
* * *
The shepherd’s pie is exactly the kind of comfort food I crave after a day that’s left me wrung out. I pop the sparkling juice, foam spilling over my fingers and dampening the tablecloth. I pour three flutes and watch as the bubbles tickle Lily’s nose when she takes a sip. She wrinkles it hard, twitching side to side until the itch passes, making both Mia and me laugh under our breath.
I down the syrup-sweet liquid fast, refusing to let it linger. Mia, of course, moans her approval. “Not bad at all,” she says with that delight only sugar gives her. Ms. Sweet Tooth through and through.
