Page 29 of Burden to Bear

“Oh, well, what are my choices?” Mia asked.

Izzy hopped down from her chair, which she’d made sure was right beside Mia’s, and moved away from the table and toward the kitchen. “I’ll get them, so you can pick the one you like the best.”

As soon as Izzy made it to the kitchen and pulled open the drawer where the cookie cutters were stored, I looked up to see Mia with her eyes on me and a smile on her face. Since my niece was preoccupied with what she was doing, I took the opportunity to speak to Mia.

“Are you okay with just peanut butter on your sandwich?” I asked. “Izzy and I aren’t fans of jelly.”

Mia’s soft laughter filled the air, the sound of it forcing something to squeeze at the center of my chest. I’d heard her laugh before now, but this time felt different. “I often have just peanut butter sandwiches myself, so that sounds wonderful to me.”

I offered an approving nod, my gaze lingering on her pretty face for a few extra beats, before I returned my attention to the food.

“Here are the shapes,” Izzy declared as she made her way back to the table.

“Oh, wow. There’re a lot of them. Do you have a favorite?” Mia asked her.

I’d been trying to keep my attention focused on preparing the sandwiches along with the rest of our lunch, but I couldn’t seem to help myself. There was something I liked a lot about having Mia here with us, and I kept stealing glances at her. She seemed to be so at ease with Izzy, which I would have normally attributed to working with kids for her job every day, but I’d learned the first day I met her that Mia was a happy-go-lucky, friendly, and talkative woman. She’d been very outgoing from the start, so what I was witnessing now didn’t exactly come as a surprise.

“I like this one the best.”

As I moved toward the refrigerator to pull out a couple of apples, I smiled. I didn’t have to see which cookie cutter Izzy was showing off to know which one she’d chosen. Any time her dad brought her here without packing her lunch for her ahead of time, she always picked the same shape—a butterfly. Unless it was a special occasion, like Christmas or Valentine’s Day, when she’d choose a tree or a heart, Izzy always chose the butterfly.

“That’s the perfect shape for spring, Izzy,” Mia told her.

“Yeah. Uncle Brock tells me I’m so busy and beautiful like a butterfly, so that’s why I pick it all the time.”

“Oh, I was going to stick with the spring theme and pick one of these flowers. But maybe I could find one that describes me better. What do you think?”

Izzy was quiet for a moment, contemplating her response. My niece was a thoughtful little girl, so I was curious to see what she’d choose to describe Mia.

“Well, you could still pick the flower, because flowers are pretty. And you’re so pretty.”

My eyes met Mia’s, and the corners of my mouth tipped up with a smile. “Izzy’s not wrong.”

A flush crept over her skin, and she quickly tore her attention away from me. “Okay, kiddo. Which should I choose then, the daisy or the tulip?”

Mia was holding each of the flowers up in front of Izzy. My niece pointed to the daisy. “I like this one more.”

Mia beamed at Izzy, the smile transforming her. God, she was pretty. Far prettier than any flower I’d ever seen.

“I think that’s an excellent choice. What about Uncle Brock? Does he have a favorite, or is there one that reminds you of him? Or does he keep his sandwich boring?”

I began cutting up the apples into slices, and my lips twitched, wondering how Mia would react when she learned the answer to her question.

“Uncle Brock is always the dinosaur.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“But dinosaurs are so big, old, and scary. That doesn’t seem like your uncle, does it?”

“Well, Uncle Brock isn’t very scary, but he is big and kind of old,” Izzy revealed.

Unable to help myself, I looked over and saw Mia’s brows shoot up. “He is? He doesn’t look very old to me.”

Izzy grabbed ahold of the three cookie cutters we needed for today’s lunch, so she could bring them to me. But before she walked away from Mia, she looked her square in the eyes and deadpanned, “He’s older than my dad. And Daddy’s really old, too.”

Mia glanced over at me again, and it was immediately clear she was trying her best not to burst into a fit of laughter. She was struggling so hard; she couldn’t even respond to Izzy.

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