Page 65 of Power Play

“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry I woke you up,” Ava coos, pressing her cheek to Meghan’s. She’s teary-eyed, her bottom lip jutted out. The poor baby is so sad and disoriented that my own heart constricts.

Memories of Maya at that age appear in my head, memories of me raising her alone and trying to be everything my little girl needed: a mom, a dad, her protector. Memories of all the lonely nights I spent crying myself to sleep.

No. I don’t want to go there. Not today.

I peer to my right, noticing Michael and Isla sitting in the sandbox next to Maya and Leah. A chuckle rumbles out of my throat, and I start laughing. They appear ginormous next to the two little girls, but I don’t think they care considering their toothy smiles and giggles that reach us.

“What are you…” Ava sees what I’m looking at and snorts. Shaking her head, she sits down beside me, perching Meghan on her lap. “And this boy tried to convince me the other day that he needs new PJs. Something ‘not so childish, Mom.’” She mimics her son, making me smile.

“What’s on his PJs?” I ask curiously.

Ava squints at me. “Batman.”

I frown, not quite understanding what’s less childish than Batman.

“He wants some with Captain America now.”

“Are you going to buy him…?” I ask.

“He has like four sets of PJs, Layla.” She reaches over the stroller, takes out a sippy cup, and hands it to Meghan. “I’ll buy him new ones when he grows out of the ones he has.”

I relax into the bench, sitting more comfortably. “Poor Michael,” I say and instantly get a swat in the ribs from Ava.

“Ouch!”

That’s all it takes for both of us to burst out laughing.

When I enterMaya’s bedroom with a cup of cocoa and a drinking straw, I find her on her bed with my phone in her hand. A pink eye patch with unicorns covers her left eye. She agreed to put it on after ten minutes of me trying to persuade her. I count it as a win—last time it was twenty. A full-blown smile lights up her face, and the sound of barks and meows peppered with some background music fills the space.

“I don’t remember telling you that you could take my phone,” I scold her sternly, plopping down beside her.

Maya turns to me, her right eye falling on the cup in my hand. She extends my phone to me and points at the cup. “I want cocoa.”

I arch an eyebrow, keeping silent.

“Please,” she says. “Mommy, I want cocoa.”

“That’s better, sweetheart.” I give her the cup and reach for the nightstand to pick up the book I’m reading to her.

It’s a collection of fairy tales by authors from all over the world. Some are pretty complex, and she has a lot of questions after I read them. I love talking to her about the things we learn from the stories.

“Mommy, wait.” Maya stops me, putting her hand on my thigh. “Watch a video. Of Win and Willa.”

I snicker, shaking my head in disbelief. I shouldn’t have shown her this account. After putting the book down, I pick up my phone, unlock it, and hold it out for Maya. Her little finger swipes several times until she returns to the video she’s been watching. It’s barely fifteen seconds long, but these two dogs create so much chaos that I can’t stop myself from laughing.

“This is adorable. Thank you so much for showing it to me.” I kiss her temple.

Maya smiles, absolutely pleased with herself. “Show Clay. I want him laugh too.”

“Okay.” I copy the link to the video, open my texts with Clay, and send it to him. “Maya says you need to watch this,” I announce as I type.

Sent.

In less than two minutes, he’s FaceTiming me. I look down at the worn-out tee I wear around the house, remember my makeup-free face, and then glance at Maya.

“Should I answer?” I ask her, letting her decide. “Are you okay with Clay seeing you in your eye patch?”

Maya ponders my questions for what feels like a minute, then nods. “I wanna talk to him.”

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