Page 39 of Desire

“She no longer attends LBP, so until I have time to vet another school, she doesn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Az, you don’t have to pull her out of school because they fired me. LBP is a great preschool.”

“It’s great because of you, and you’re no longer there, so Ria won’t be either.”

“I don’t think?—”

“Baby, this ain’t up for discussion. My loyalty is to you. They let you go on some bullshit, and I refuse to pay thousands of dollars to an organization that would do what they did to you.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll make sure Azaria keeps up with her lessons until I find a job, or you find a school for her.”

“We.”

“We, what?”

“Until we find a school for her.”

“Oh, yes, until we find a school. Maybe she can attend the school that hires me.”

“The sounds perfect. Now, we have the rest of the evening and the whole weekend together. What do you want to do?”

“Daddy, can I have ice cream?” Azaria asked when she came into my office. She marched right up to us and extended her arms so Desire could lift her.

“Sure, baby girl. You?—”

“Ria, no ice cream until after dinner,” Desire interjected.

“But I want ice cream first, then dinner.”

“No, you have to eat dinner first. What do you want for dinner?” Desire asked.

“Ice cream.”

I watched as my wife and daughter debated, not adding my two cents because I wanted to see how Desire handled bratty Azaria. Ultimately, they found a resolution: the smaller of the two had to eat dinner before having ice cream.

“I want pasketti and ice cream,” Azaria declared after wiggling from Desire’s lap.

“Do you want to go out or order in?” I asked Desire.

“Did you eat at your meeting?”

“You called before I had a chance. I’m starving.”

“I have the ingredients here to make spaghetti. I’ll cook,” she offered.

“That wasn’t one of the choices, baby. Do you want to go out or order in?”

She sighed with an eye roll. “Fine, we can go out. Let me go freshen up.”

After pecking my lips, she pushed herself from my lap and left me and Azaria in my office, and she replaced Desire on my lap.

“Do you like having Miss Chambries here?”

Azaria still called Desire Miss Chambries, or Miss Chammies, as she would say. I would continue to do the same when talking to my daughter until I was led in another direction.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

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