Page 53 of Chasing Amber

“I thought so.” I release her and round to the back of the chair. As soon as she sits, I push her up to the table.

I’ve had her favorite minestrone soup simmering on the stove for a while. I ladle it into a colorful plastic bowl and bringit, along with a fat toddler spoon, over to the table. “It’s hot, baby. Let it cool for a minute.”

I fill a sippy cup with juice, and when I turn back around, I find her staring at me with watery eyes. She’s gripping the edge of the table.

I set the cup down and sit beside her, rubbing her back as I scoot closer. “What’s wrong, baby?”

She shakes her head, but the tears trickle down.

I’m pretty sure she’s just emotional, but I want her to tell me. “Talk to Daddy.” I reach up and wipe her cheek with my thumb. My chest is tight.

“You’re not going to leave me,” she whispers.

Now my heart hurts. “Never, baby.”

“I might be needy.”

“Challenge accepted.”

She gives me a slow smile and reaches up to rub her eyes. “I don’t want to sit on a chair with something in my butt.”

“Then you’ll learn to be a good girl for Daddy.” I smile.

“Maybe.”

I chuckle. “Eat, baby.” I hand her the chubby spoon and nod toward her soup.

She moans as soon as the first spoonful is in her mouth.

“Good girl.” If there’s one thing I know, it’s that my girl likes to be praised.

When she’s finished eating, she helps me load the dishwasher. “Can I put clothes on now?”

“Yep. You have options.”

She flinches. “What options?”

“I bought you some things I thought you might like to wear when you’re feeling Little.” Seems to me like that might be most of the time for a while, but I’m feeling her out.

She slowly smiles. “Do you mean dresses like Cassandra has?”

“Yep. Do you want to see them?”

She nods, and as I leave the kitchen, she follows me. I snag the basket outside her bedroom, carry it in, and set it on her bed.

My girl squeals when I start pulling out colorful dresses and hold them up for her to see. She takes one from me. “I can’t believe you did this. When did you have time?”

“This morning while you were in your studio.” I hold up a box next.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a monitor. I’m going to install it in the corner of your room while you try on these dresses. How’s that sound?”

“Invasive and overprotective.”

I chuckle. “Then I guess I’m an invasive and overprotective Daddy.” I point toward the bathroom. “You may change in the bathroom if you’re not ready to undress in front of Daddy, but leave the door ajar.”

She grabs a pile of dresses and rushes into the bathroom.

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