Page 128 of His Greatest Treasure

“If we’re going to mark this place, I want to do it as a family. And there’s another member of our family now,” I say.

Before Nova can ask questions, I remove her arms from around me and gather her hands in mine. She watches with interest as I drop to my haunches in front of her.

“Nova, baby, how would you feel if I said I wanted Oliver to be my boyfriend?”

She shrugs a shoulder, grinning. “Cool!”

I laugh softly. “Do you know what that would mean?”

“Yeah. You kiss each other.”

“We would, yes. But it also means that he’ll be around a lot. He would stay at the house sometimes and be there for breakfast and supper. And he’d even take you to ballet with me and pick you up from school from time to time.”

Her eyes grow wide as she whips around to stare up at him. “Really?”

“Yeah, peanut. I’ll be around for as long as you want me to be.”

“So always! Yay! This is awesome,” Nova shouts, launching herself into his arms. He holds her with ease, smoothing down her hair instead of ruffling it the way she hates.

I take another long look at them, memorizing the sight and bliss it brings me before dropping my eyes to the table once again. Picking up the bottle of yellow paint, I pop the cap and squirt a huge circle of it onto the centre of a plate.

“We’re putting it in writing,” I declare. “No take backs. No running.”

Oliver sets Nova down beside me at the table and takes a plate before squirting blue paint onto it.

“To always having prank wars and laughing with each other,” he says.

Nova, having watched us, reaches for the pink paint. Oliver offers her a plate of her own, and she squirts way too much paint onto the plate. I don’t mention it.

“What do you want from me and Oliver, sweetheart?”

“Like, as a present?” she asks, setting the paint bottle back on the table.

Oliver stares down at her intently. “As a promise. What could we do to make you happy?”

“Oh,” she mutters. “Can we go swimming in the ocean together?”

“We can go every single day if that will make you happy,” he swears.

“Okay. I want to have funny stories to tell my friends.”

The reminder of that conversation about Chris is painful, but I take it on the chin, knowing it’s better to be reminded than for her to trap it down and pretend her feelings don’t exist. I know she’ll make a million memories with Oliver, many of them funny enough to tell her friends about.

Our future is bright, and while she doesn’t fully understand what’s happening yet, she will. And I know Oliver will make it easy for her to love him the way he loves her.

“Press your palm into the paint, and then put your hand on the wall, sweetheart. Oliver and I will put our handprints beside yours,” I tell her.

She nods eagerly and smooshes her hand into the pink paint. I reach over and help when she presses too hard and the paint squishes up between her fingers.

Giggling, she lets me guide her hand to the wall beside whereNova’s Corneris written. I instruct her to spread her fingers, and when she presses her palm to the wall, I smile.

“Perfect, Nova,” I praise.

She pulls her hand from the wall and cheers before saying, “Your turn, Mom!”

I coat my hand in yellow paint and hover it over the wall, her handprint on my left. With soft pressure, I let my handprint join hers.

Oliver kisses the top of my head and keeps close while coating his hand and pressing it to the wall on the opposite side of Nova’s, sandwiching hers between ours.

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