Page 88 of I Won't Be In On Monday

"Daddy, I wish you could tell stories like Juniper," Canyon says, and I just nod.

"So do I. Ready for bed?"

"Yes, Daddy. Thank you for letting me watch the movie. It was really fun."

"I loveHome Alone," Juniper added. "It was one of my favorite movies when I was a child."

"I love it, too. Though, I don't think I want to be home alone. It would be scary," Canyon says.

"Don't worry, darling, I would never leave you home alone." I walk over and give her a kiss on the forehead, and she beams up at me.

"I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you, too, Canyon." I look over at Juniper, and her eyes look misty, like she wants to cry. I walk towards the door and turn off the light. Juniper follows behind me.

"Night, Canyon."

"Night, Juniper."

We leave Canyon's room, and I close the door. Juniper looks over at me with a warm smile. "You told her you love her."

"I did," I say with a slight nod. "What? Does that surprise you?"

"I mean, the first time she told you that she loved you, you didn't say it back, and I wondered if you just had a hard time saying the words, but you said it."

"I think when you have a child, it's easy to let go of your inhibitions," I say. "It's easy to love freely and with all your heart. Would you like a glass of wine?"

We walk back toward the living room and the kitchen. She looks at me demurely. "So you're not completely cold after all."

"I'm not." I grin at her. I grab her hand and trace my finger across her palm. She gasps slightly. I see her lower lip trembling. "Now it's the adult time," I say softly, wondering if she's going to ask to leave, if she's changed her mind. "I've been waiting for this."

She looks up at me, and this time, her stare is obstinate. Her eyes are determined. Her lips are pouted, but in a way thatshows me that she's ready for fun. She's ready for the night to begin.

"You can back out. Maybe things were said in the heat of the moment that you regret." I head over to the kitchen and grab a bottle of red wine and two glasses. "Do you like Merlot?"

"Always." She heads towards me.

I grab the bottle opener, open the bottle, and turn back toward her. "You look like?—"

"Please don't say a supermodel," she says, wrinkling her nose.

"That's not what I was going to say."

"Okay, what were you going to say?"

"I was going to say that you look like a woman in a Renaissance photo."

"In a Renaissance photo?" She makes a face.

"I mean painting." I correct myself. "I guess I was so taken aback by your beauty that..."

"Oh, no, please don't lay it on that thick, Remington. I get it. I got a makeover, and now you see how different I look, and..."

"I think you looked beautiful before you got the makeover," I say quickly. "You do know that, right?"

She blinks at me. "Not as beautiful as I look now, though."

"You look different. Now you look polished. But previously, you looked young and innocent and..."

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