Page 84 of Last on the List
My knee-jerk reaction is to ask her if Cassandra has been crying, but I pause that train of thought because my kid is talking about me. “Do you think my soul needs cleansing?” I ask, half horrified I repeated those crazy words, half desperate to know the answer from my eleven-year-old.
Everly looks down and murmurs, “Kind of.”
“Why?” I lift her chin to see her face when she answers me.
“Because you’re so lonely, Dad,” she says, her voice soft and sensitive. “I think you’ve been so lonely for so long that you don’t know how to be un-lonely anymore, and that’s why you can’t find a nice girl.”
I laugh at her sweet concern. “What if you’re the only nice girl I want to care about?”
“Dad.” Everly sighs heavily and rests her head on the couch as she looks at me. “I don’t want to be the only one to worry about you.”
Fucking hell, my daughter just cut right through my heart. I stare back at her grave face and find her completely serious right now. “You worry about me?” I ask, bracing myself for the answer.
“I worry about you all the time,” Everly replies simply. “I hate when I leave you to go to Mom’s and have to leave you here all by yourself.”
“Hey…you don’t need to worry about me,” I assure her and reach out to hold the back of her hand. “I’m a grown-up. I’m okay. Plus, I have friends. Your crazy uncles. Grandma and Grandpa.”
“But you don’t have a Kailey,” Everly says, referring to Jessica’s wife. “Or someone to give you a hug…like this.”
Everly crawls over to me and wraps her bony arms around my neck and squeezes me. My body sags in her tiny frame as I wrap around her and press a hand onto her damp hair and inhale the scent of her shampoo. She used to smell like a baby. Now she smells like strawberries, and I hate it. I wish I could rewind time and make her a toddler again, not an almost teenager sitting on the couch having a mature conversation about emotions with her father.
Dammit, how did time fly by so quick?
She pulls away, and my eyes sting when I ask, “Why do you think I need someone to hug?”
She lifts her shoulders. “Hugging is probably better for the soul than crying. But I’d have to ask Cozy about that to be sure.”
Her face is the picture of innocence as she looks up at me with those baby-blue eyes that aren’t so babyish anymore. They hold empathy and intelligence in them. A maturity that I don’t think I give her enough credit for.
I chuck her chin gently. “Is it so bad that I spent the past few years just focusing on hugging you? Our time together hasn’t been so bad, has it?”
She sighs and leans her head on my arm. “No, but I’m getting older now, Dad. I don’t need so many hugs.”
“Don’t say that,” I croak, my voice catching in my throat as I wrap my arm around her and hug her to my chest. “Please, kid…promise me you’ll always need a hug from your dad. I’m not ready to be done with the hugging.”
“Okay, okay,” she squeals as I squeeze her a bit too tight and press a kiss into her damp hair. I relax my grip and let her breathe again just in time to say, “I still think now would be a perfect time for you to get a girlfriend.”
“Why? You and Hilow want to double date?” I deadpan.
“Daaad,” she groans with embarrassment, and I smile for the first time since Cassandra left my house yesterday morning.
“You know what’s better than hugging?” I ask, moving up off the couch and dragging my daughter with me. “Dancing.”
“Here?” She looks around, looking shy all of the sudden.
“Come on, I’ve seen you do it with Cassandra.” I laugh and tell Alexa to play “My Girl by the Temptations”. The punchy music wafts through the house sound system as I point to my feet. “Stand on my feet like you used to when you were little. That would make me really happy.”
She rolls her eyes like I’m a big dork but does it anyways as I wrap one arm around her back and hold her hand out with the other. I move us around the living room, relishing in her giggles. This is time I need to cherish with my daughter who’s growing up way too fast.
I don’t know what I’m going to do about the nanny who has somehow managed to turn my world upside down. But I know I’m not going to sit here and be sad in front of my kid anymore.
“Cozy, is it okay if we read for a bit before we swim?” Everly asks as I rub sunscreen on her back, careful to avoid her adorable little tankini with flowers all over it. “I want to get sweaty before I dive in.”
“That sounds like a fabulous idea. Plus, your sunscreen needs to dry anyway,” I reply, wiping my hands off on the towel before grabbing my Kindle out of my tote bag. It’s another one of Everly’s and my pool days, but this one is going to be a little different than all the others. “We have some time to relax before the guy gets here anyway.”
“Perfect.” Everly settles in the chair beside me, and I pop open a new dark mafia romance on my Kindle when a notification pings on my phone.
Dakota: Well? How was it this morning?
