Page 16 of Ruthless Serenade

"You’d find another babysitter," Tania winks and stands up. "But seriously, you know I love Sharon. You two are practically family to me." She stretches. "But I better jet now. My cat is probably meowing up a storm, and my neighbors are about to file a noise complaint. Catch you later, Mindy."

As soon as I close the door behind Tania, I hear a soft shuffling behind me. I turn around and see my beautiful baby girl emerging from her room. Her eyes are heavy with sleep, and she’s wearing her pajamas. She’s got her precious lovey in her tiny hands, that old stuffed bunny with one ear hanging on for dear life. She’s blinking at the hallway light as she hugs her bunny close to her chest, her fingers tangled in its fluffy fur. Her hair is messy from sleeping, but she looks so darn cute that I could eat her.

"Hey, sleepyhead," I say, crouching down to her level. "What are you doing out of bed, sweetpea?"

Sharon just stares at me with those big blue eyes of hers, not saying a word. My heart sinks a little, wondering if this is going to be one of those quiet moments.

But then she pipes up, her voice all soft and sleepy. "I heard you come home, Mommy. I woke up ‘cause I missed you."

That’s all it takes for my heart to melt. "Aw, baby, I missed you, too. I’m sorry I couldn’t tuck you in tonight."

Sharon rubs her eye with her fist, still holding tight to her bunny. "It’s okay, Mommy. Tania read me a story. But I wanted a hug from you before I go back to sleep."

I don’t know if hearts can melt twice within one minute, but mine does. I open up my arms, and she practically falls into them, snuggling up against me like I’m the coziest blanket in the world.

"I love you so much, baby," I murmur into her hair. "To the moon and back. Forever and ever. You know that, right?"

Sharon’s little arms are squeezing me tight. "I love you too, Mommy."

I get even more misty-eyed at that. This kid, she’s my everything to me and more. I’d do anything for her, even if it means having dinner with Nesbit McCullan every night for the rest of my life.

"Alright, little miss, let’s get you back to bed," I say, scooping her up and carrying her back to her room. She’s all warm and soft in my arms, and I wish I could just stay with her in this moment forever.

I tuck her in, making sure her bunny is right there next to her. She looks up at me with those big, sleepy eyes. "Mommy, will you stay with me until I fall asleep?"

I’m tired; all I want is my bed, but of course, I say yes. So, I climb in next to her, wrapping my arms around her as she snuggles up close to me. And as I lie there, listening to her breathing get slower and deeper, I realize that this right here, this is what it’s all about. Never mind the dating drama; forget the stress of single motherhood. As long as I’ve got this beautiful little girl by my side, I’ve got everything I need.

Yet, as I hold her, I find myself wondering about what could be going on in that little head of hers. Why does she choose to speak sometimes and not others? How can I help her feel safe and confident all the time?

I don’t know the answers. Maybe I should speak to her teachers. Or maybe contact a professional. A child psychologist, perhaps.

Once I’m sure she’s fallen asleep, I carefully push myself up, and tiptoe out of her room. Just as I’m about to walk away, I pause, and look back at her peacefully sleeping form. I can’t get enough of my beautiful daughter. So much so that I can't resist going back and giving her one last kiss for the night.

As quietly as possible, I sneak back to her bed and bend down to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. Her eyes flutter open, and she asks me sleepily, "Mommy, do I have a daddy?"

My heart jumps. The question catches me completely off guard.

I take a deep breath to steady myself, then gently stroke her tiny cheek. "Yes, honey," I say softly. "You do have a daddy, but… he’s not with us."

"Where is he?" she asks, her curiosity piquing despite her sleepiness.

I struggle to find the right words. "Umm… he’s… he’s gone to a special place, sweetheart," I tell her, struggling to keep my voice even.

"But where?" she persists.

Oh my God.

What am I supposed to say to her? And how much am I supposed to share? My heart aches as I try to protect her from the harsh truth of what happened seven years ago. "He’s with the angels, honey," I finally manage to say past the lump in my throat.

I can almost see her little mind working, trying to understand what I’m telling her. "Will he come back, Mommy?" she asks with wide eyes. She seems a lot more awake than she did a minute ago.

I gently stroke her hair. "No, sweetie," I say softly, trying to hide the emotion lurking in my voice. "People who are with the angels don’t come back. But they watch over us from up there."

"Like Auntie Emily?" she asks, remembering what I told her about my twin sister. It’s amazing how her little brain is connecting the dots. I told her some hilarious stories about me and my late twin sister Emily when we were young, how we used to trick everyone with our identical looks… and now she’s tied that to her missing father.

"Yes, honey. Just like Auntie Emily." I kiss her forehead again and tuck the quilt around her. "Now, get some rest, sweetie. I love you."

Her eyes are looking more drowsy now. "I love you too, Mommy," she murmurs as she finally drifts off to sleep.

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