Page 67 of A Simple Life

I lifted her, and she nestled in my embrace, wrapping her arms around my neck. She talked to Quinn as we headed down the hall. “Why are the stars different here? How come you don’t have a shirt on, Farmer John? Are you hot?”

“It’s darker here,” Quinn explained. “No pollution like in Toronto.” Then under her breath, she muttered, “And yes, he is hot. Way too hot.”

I tried not to grin.

“Oh.”

Outside, I patted Abby’s back. “Look up, Pumpkin.”

She gazed upward in rapture. The sky was clear, and the stars shone brightly as if putting themselves on display for her.

“So pretty! Look at all the stars, Momma!”

“I know, baby.”

“Can we look for a while?”

“Sure,” I agreed easily and sat down on the porch, letting Abby settle on my knee. She peered at the sky, then gasped. “What was that?”

“A falling star,” I explained.

“Ooh.”

A moment later, she tilted her head toward me. “Farmer John, did the star fall to the bushes over there?” She pointed toward the boxwood.

I narrowed my eyes, looking, then chuckled. “No, Abby, those are fireflies.”

“Fireflies?” she repeated. “What are those?”

“Little bugs. Their belly lights up as they fly.”

“Why?”

“To help them find friends,” I fibbed slightly. “It’s their way of smiling.”

“I’ve never seen one,” Quinn said beside me.

“Me either,” Abby agreed, leaning back into my chest.

“Big night for my girls. Bright stars, a shooting one, and fireflies.” I pressed a kiss to Abby’s head and grasped Quinn’s hand, squeezing it.

“I like being your girl,” Abby murmured.

That made me smile and I held her closer. “Maybe we can catch some fireflies one night, and you can see them up close. Then we can set them free.”

“Okay,” Abby whispered, relaxing even more into me. Quinn peeked over at her and nodded. She was falling back asleep. We stayed silent, and soon Abby was out, her breathing deep and even.

“I fell asleep,” Quinn said. “Your mattress is too comfortable.”

I kept my voice low. “My mattress or my chest?” I teased.

She hummed. “Same for both. I’m so glad you heard her.”

“You did too, about thirty seconds after me. Don’t beat yourself up over this, Quinn. She’s fine. All she’ll remember in the morning are the stars and the fireflies.”

“Still, I better join her this time.”

I understood. I carefully stood and carried Abby inside. Quinn lifted the covers, and I slid Abby in. Then I did the same for her. She hesitated. “Should I change?” she asked, fingering my shirt.