Page 32 of When We Were More
“Hey, are you visiting, too, or are you the lady that lives here? The one my dad said is pretty? I bet you’re her.”
I can’t help but laugh again. Kids cannot keep any secrets.
“Your daddy told you he thought I was pretty?”
“Well, he didn’t tell me. But I heard him when I was ‘sposed to be sleeping.” She pauses and looks up at me with seriousness in her eyes. “It wasn’t my fault, though, because my uncle is loud and woke me. Anyway, I didn’t go back to bed because my favorite uncle was there, and I wanted to see him. I heard my daddy say you were pretty, and my uncle thinks you’re pretty, too. Then my dad got mad at him and told him to stay away from you.” She inhales. That was a lot of words at once for those little lungs.
I’m totally confused now. My face must show it because she takes her little hand and wraps it around mine.
“You okay? It’s good. You’re the princess, and all the princes want to pick you. Easy, see?”
She shrugs, then leans back against the swing as if that settles it. She’s still holding my hand. We both should go inside, but for a minute, I simply rock with her, sitting in the quiet. My eyes start to burn. This almost six-year-old just inadvertently voiced so simply what I’ve always wanted. To be chosen. Though, I don’t need princes. I only want people who should care about me to choose me.
I take a few deep breaths and clear my head. Right as I’m about to suggest we go inside, she gasps and leans forward.
“Tillie! We’re the same! My daddy wasn’t my first dad, but he picked me, and he’s my forever daddy. He picked me, and he picked you, and that means we’re the same.” The excitement in her voice is palpable.
This little girl has me confused as hell. Or maybe my brain isn’t registering because I’m overwhelmingly tired. I think it’s definitely time for us both to go inside.
“Ladybug? It’s been more than one hundred counts!”
I recognize Henry’s voice a split second before he steps out the door. But it isn’t until Layla jumps off the swing and answers him that everything connects.
“Sorry, Daddy. I was making friends with Tillie.”
I glance back and forth between them. Henry looks as shocked to see me as I am to see him right now.
“You’re early.”
“You have a daughter.”
“I have two. Daughters, I mean.”
I glance at his left hand, which doesn’t have a ring on it, and he notices. When I look back up at him, he frowns.
“I don’t have a wife.”
I notice Layla is looking at me. I suspect the ping-pong back and forth has her attention.
“It would be fine if you did. I’m your client. You’re my contractor.”
“No, we’re friends, remember?”
I shrug. “I’m not convinced about that. Friends usually have heard about their friend’s… immediate family tree members.” I glance at Layla.
He opens his mouth to reply, then closes it, then does it again, but never breaks eye contact. He grabs a fistful of hair, frustration in his eyes.
“You two are weird.” Thank God for kids and their uncanny ability to break up awkward moments. I smile down at her, and she takes my hand. Henry’s eyes flick to the movement.
“Daddy, I told Tillie that you and Uncle Holden both think she’s pretty.” Henry closes his eyes and takes a breath.
I kneel and grin at Layla.
“Holden? You didn’t say which uncle before, Layla. But I’ve met your Uncle Holden.” I say it with feigned interest, knowing it will annoy Henry. I’m right because a low growl emanates from him. Layla looks up at Henry with her brow furrowed.
“Daddy, why are you making bear noises, silly? Don’t worry, I already told Tillie you said Uncle Holden has to stay away from her.”
“Where did you hear that, ladybug? You were supposed to be in bed.”
