Page 45 of Frequency of Attraction

She jumped to her feet and eagerly picked up his arms one by one. Then she squinted at his neck. She babbled about the different buildings and sights and patterns, a peek into an inner monologue for which he’d forever be grateful to Quinn. He had much to thank her for. So much.

“This one! This is my favorite!” She poked the tricep of his left arm, occupied by a colorful spire of St. Basil’s Cathedral.

“That’s in Moscow, Russia. Where we’re from. I met your mama there.”

“Mama still hasn’t come home. She will, though.Babatold me.”

“You should listen to yourbabushka. I bet she’s always right.”

Mila nodded and went back to digging. He watched her in wonder, utterly enchanted with her eyelashes and button nose. He wrapped a silken curl around his finger and spiraled it gently until it sprang loose. This beautiful piece of the universe belonged to him. Across this wide world, they’d found each other. Thanks, again, somehow, to Quinn.

“I like your hair, too,” she told him. She stood, the top of her head even with his chest. She dusted off her small hands and tugged on the loose waves he’d swept to the side after his shower. The muscles in his chest constricted when her hands connected with his head. Light joined the blood in his veins.

“More pictures!” Her fingers prodded the constellations. “What are these?”

“Pictures in the sky at night. In the stars. They’re my favorite.”

“They’re my favorite, too.”

Vadim had to close his eyes against the flood of emotions hovering there.

He had no idea how long they dug in the sand and asked each other questions. She was full of words for someone so small. She even invited him to her music class at the library, where she was going after the park.

“Can we play next time? I like the swings.”

“Swings it is,” he agreed.

“Tomorrow? After breakfast? I like oatmeal with cinnamon.” She said it likecimmanon.

He smiled. “I like oatmeal with an egg on top.”

“Ew!”

Chuckling, he stood, brushing sand off his black jeans. She stared up at him as if in awe. He must look like a giant to her. She raised her arms and his heart stuttered. He picked her up, light as a feather, and clutched his daughter to his chest for the first time. He carried her to her grandmother and Quinn, both of whom were beaming.

“We’re going to play after breakfast tomorrow,” little Mila announced.

Vadim looked at the elder Mila to see if that was okay. He had just as many questions for her as he did for Quinn, who seemed to sense that he needed a moment with his daughter’s grandmother.

“Sweet Mila, will you push me on the swing?” she asked.

“Yes. Your voice is pretty.”

Vadim’s smile faltered as they walked away. Elder Mila’s didn’t. He leveled his gaze at the woman caring for his daughter. “I don’t want to take her from you. I just want to be part of her life.”

She nodded. Tears glazed her eyes. She looked like Annika. “We would like that. Annika is…I don’t know where she is. We haven’t seen her in over a year.”

Vadim’s jaw ached. “Can I help? With Annika or anything else?”

She shook her head quickly. “No, we’re fine. Quinn says she has a home here. We’d love some visits when you’re in town. And when Mila gets comfortable with you, and you and Quinn are comfortable with the idea, maybe she can visit your home in California.”

He started to correct her about he and Quinn but stopped himself. Whatever helped his case. “Thank you for agreeing to meet us like this.”

“Of course. Quinn gave me your business card. I’ll text you later so you have my number.” Annika’s mother stood to give him a hug. “This is the best news we’ve had all year. I’m so happy you found us.”

Vadim nodded, words once again stuck in his throat. He made his way back to Quinn and Mila, feeling on edge. Mila gave Quinn one last futile push and went dashing past them both. She turned after a few yards, waving. “See you tomorrow, Papa.”

With those words, Vadim’s heart was no longer his own.

---