Page 25 of Jagger

Vida: Don’t hate me…

Me: Why would I hate you?

Vida: Because we’re going to have to reschedule. Three of my seniors were caught smoking out by the football field. I have to meet with their parents after school and I’m not sure what time I’ll be getting home. ??

Me: Damn, that sucks ass. But don’t stress, beautiful. I get it.

Vida: I’m sorry…

Me: Don’t be. It’s all good. ??

Sighing,I toss my phone onto the coffee table and fling myself back into the couch after reading our texts from earlier on in the afternoon for the millionth time. Do I understand she has shit to do? Absolutely. Doesn’t mean it sucks any less, especially when I’ve been on a perpetual high since Wednesday’s events.

Not to mention I can’t shake the feeling there’s something else to it. She hasn’t text me since.

“Daddy, I’m done!” Mila calls out from the bathroom.

I smile. At least I still have my best girl here.

Rising off the couch, I pad through the apartment, stopping just beneath the threshold. There’s bubbles everywhere, including the top of her blonde little head.

“Scrubbed good, baby girl?” I ask, crossing my arms in amusement.

“Yep. I’m super sparkly clean!” She smiles exaggeratedly, blue eyes shining with pride.

“Well, c’mon, lets dry you up then. Your mommy packed you different jammies. Which ones do you wanna wear?”

“Hmmm...” She’s pensive as I dry her off. “Did she put the PAW Patrol ones in there?”

“I believe so. Those the ones you want?”

“This pup’s gotta flyyy!” she exclaims, quoting one of the characters with a squeaky little bark in tow, her head bobbing briskly in agreement.

I can’t help but chuckle This little girl has the power to light up my whole world. Beaming with adoration, I carry a bundled Mila to her room and pull out the pajamas she’d requested from her—yep, you guessed it—PAW Patrol backpack. She dresses much quicker than I expected, then sinks to the floor, crossing her legs beneath her so I can untangle her hair. It’s gotten so long, the dirty-blonde tips sitting right at her waistline. Takes me double the time the comb it all out. It’s a process, but she sits patiently, rambling away about all she learned in school this week.

“There, all done.” I run the comb through it one last time. “Go brush your teeth.”

Mila shoots onto her feet and races down the hallway as I go about turning down the sheets she’s never used before. It’s still blowing my mind she’s actually staying the whole weekend. Half of me wants to believe this may the start of a new chapter for Calla and I, one where we’re actually somewhat friendly rather than enemies, but other half of me has grown so accustomed to the person she is now, that I don’t even want to get my hopes up.

Still, I find myself holding onto the prospect as tightly as possible, no matter how bleak.

“Can you read me a bedtime story, Daddy? Pleaseee?” Mila asks as she scampers back into the room.

I nod and plop onto her dainty little bed. “Of course, baby girl. Pick a good one.”

Clapping excited, she flashes me another cheesy grin that looks so much like one of my own before running to the bookshelf in the corner. I watch her in fascination as she skims the titles, dragging a small finger along the spines. Some she pulls out to observe the cover, others she skips completely. A couple minutes later, she runs back with “Love You Forever” and crawls onto the bed beside me.

Not even halfway through the heartwarming tale and she’s out like a light, long lashes resting again her cheeks. She looks like a little angel, lips quirked in an adorable pout, her arms curled around her stuffed unicorn. It’s moments like these where she’s her mother’s twin. Really, she’s a perfect blend of us both, but sometimes one side shows more than the other.

Smoothing the hair off her face, I kiss her warm little cheek and tuck the covers around her tighter, exiting her room with the softest of steps. A content sigh leaves me as I shut the door and wander down the hallway to the kitchen, pulling a cold Stellafrom the fridge. As busy as my life can be, especially the weekends I work, I can get used to this.

I want to get used to this.

Mila’s growing so quickly and it feels like I’ve already missed out on so much. Just thinking about missing even the tiniest bit more makes my chest clench.

It’s not something I can do much about now. I’ll have to discuss it with Calla at another point in time. Her attitude when she comes to pick up Mila on Sunday night will determine how soon after the fact I’m going to act.

Taking a few welcome sips of my beer, I drop onto the couch and lift my feet on the ottoman. Flip on the TV and scan the guide for something to watch. Impractical Jokers seems like a good way to go. I’ve almost every episode, but they still give me laugh.

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