Page 111 of Dancing in the Dark

“Really?”

“Uh huh. Getting cuddles from Charlie Fletcher is nice and all. But cuddles from Mia Moo Moo Charlotte Fletcher? Oh, man.” She exhales a low, smiling whistle. “That’s a special kind of magic right there. If you ever want to go to your dad’s side of the bed and hug him instead, since he’s your dad, and he deserves love too, then I won’t be mad.” She brushes the tip of her nose against Mia’s and elicits a tiny giggle. “But honestly? I’d be a little jealous the whole time.”

“I guess that’s why they gave me two arms, huh?” She snuggles in and breathes out a soft sigh. “One for hugging you and one for hugging Daddy. ‘Cept when Cato’s around, cos then he says I have to cuddle him the most.”

Sera snickers. “I might have to talk to Cato soon. Remind him that sharing is important, and if he keeps teaching you cheeky things, I might have to put him in time-out.”

“I don’t fink he would stay in time-out.” She giggles. “And even if he did, he would tell me to come sit in time-out wif him. Then he’d sneak a basketball and snacks into time-out, too, so then time-out would just be a regular fun day. He’s so cheeky like that.”

42

FLETCH

“That was really painful.” An hour and a half after walking through our apartment door and trading Mia’s uncomfortable sequined costume for PJs, Sera comes around the back of the couch and gently sandwiches my face between her hands, drawing my head back and rewarding me with a view of her emotional eyes. “Do you ever get angry at the world because the sweetest, most empathetic and sensitive children are the ones whose feelings hurt most of all, meanwhile, there are little pricks like Jordy Ayers out there who could probably do with a little humility, but never will?” Exhaling an unhappy grunt, she presses a kiss to my forehead and releases me again.

I miss her for the entire ten seconds it takes to walk around the couch. For the eternity I’m forced to endure before she plops onto the cushions and, a moment later, notices the glass of wine I already placed for her on the coffee table.

Surprised, she proves again she was the sensitive, empathetic little girl once upon a time, convinced no one would or should do anything nice for the sake of being nice.

Her mother taught her everything comes at a price, and love—or at least, the words, falsely spoken—were nothing more than a transaction.

“For me?” She stares at it. Then at me. “Really?”

“You earned it.” I pluck it up by the stem and place it in her hands, then I grab her legs and pull them onto my lap. Sitting back, I dig my thumb into the arch of her dancer’s feet and enjoy the groan of pleasure she lets loose. “Bet you’re exhausted.”

“Mmm.” She burrows into the couch, laying her cheek on the cushions. “Is it always like this?” She takes a small sip of her wine and closes her eyes. “When they hurt, you hurt? Even when, as an adult, you know a failed recital isn’t really a big deal.”

“Every single time. Especially with her.” I massage her ankle and drop my head back. “She’s one of the really great kids. She feels so much and judges herself too harshly. I never get the chance to reprimand her for anything, because she’s always quicker off the mark and relentless in how unkind she is.”

“Devastating.” She exhales a sad sigh and slowly opens her eyes. “Maybe next time she’s in her feelings about all this and I’m not nearby, you could tell her I’m still really proud of her.”

“I will, I promise.”

“She needs those words of affirmation. Not only for us to say things right to her face, but to hear that people say kind things about her even when she’s not around to hear them.”

“Like when you told her I’m always asking for ideas on how to make her happy?”

Her cheeks warm with a soft blush. “Not a lie, really.”

“I’m not sure I’ve ever asked with those words exactly.”

“So? I’ve never met a father who so loudly and consistently celebrates his child. Well…” She snickers. “Except maybe Archer’s brother.”

“Cato?”

She shakes her head. “Felix. I heard he celebrates every time his baby poops.”

Snorting, I make my way past her Achilles and up to her calf muscle. “Felix is a freak of nature in every imaginable way. Do you think I need to celebrate Mia’s toileting routine? It’d probably feel strange at first, but⁠—”

“No.” She snickers. “I think you missed the boat on that one, and starting now would probably embarrass her.”

Yeah. Because I fuckin’ suck.

“What are you guys doing tomorrow night, anyway?”

“Tomorrow?” I think of my texts, and the five-thousand-dollar job I rejected a few minutes ago, because being home with my baby while she hurts like this is more important. “It’s a school night, so besides whatever bullshit Cato wants to do with Mia between three and five, we have no plans.” I glance across and search her eyes. “Why?”

Shy, she drops her gaze and forces me to study the top of her head.