57. Not Scared

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"Scooch over, make some room," I tell Mia, repeating the same words I say to her any time it's my turn to read her a book at bedtime

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"Scooch over, make some room," I tell Mia, repeating the same words I say to her any time it's my turn to read her a book at bedtime.

She slides over and lays down, curling her legs up and getting all snuggly as she passes me the book she picked. Where the Wild Things Are, another classic and one of my favorites. Respect.

When Amber comes into the room, she looks us over with a smile before situating herself at Mia's feet, leaning against the wall and stretching her pretty, lean legs across my knees. I reach down and let my hand glide over her soft skin for a couple of glorious seconds before bringing it back up and opening the book.

I don't know if I've ever experienced a more perfect moment than this one but it feels like every moment with these two is sort of perfect these days. Hearing Mia's giggles and gasps as the story progresses or her little yawn as she begins to fall asleep. Amber's relaxed position as she rests her head against the wall with her eyes closed, content as she listens to me read.

It's perfect, feels like home.

By the time I'm done, Mia's snoozing away. Or so we thought.

As Amber and I are ducking out of her room, trying to be quiet, Mia's sleepy whisper fills the room. "Will you be here when I wake up, Tommy?"

I walk back over to her bed. "I don't know, kiddo. I have to get up pretty early for work."

"It's Saturday," she points out. "No school."

"That's right." I laugh a little at her voice fading in and out with drowsiness. "You get to sleep in."

"Okay," she mutters as her eyes finally close all the way. "Don't forget the lunch we made for you."

I can't with this girl. "You made me lunch?"

Mia hums an incoherent response as my eyes drift back to Amber in the doorway, grinning at us. She answers my question with a mischievous bounce of her eyebrows and I smile down at Mia. "Thank you," I whisper, dropping a kiss on her head before sneaking into the hallway with Amber.

I slide my arm around her waist. "Making me lunch, huh? How did I get so lucky?"

"You'll love what she had us put together for you," Amber laughs. "Peanut butter and jelly, a bag of chips, apple slices." We arrive in the dining room and she turns to face me, her pretty smile making me lick my lips in anticipation of feeling that smile against my mouth. "Oh, and she even snuck a chocolate pudding cup in there," she adds quickly. "She basically packed you all the things she loves in her own lunch. You're going to feel like you're five years old again."

Yeah, I'll say it again. Perfect.

We spend the next half hour out back, cleaning up the messy but very fun remnants of an evening spent grilling, making s'mores, and playing catch with Mia. It turns out, she's a pretty natural athlete. She's already gotten great use out of the glove I got her for Christmas and I'm pretty impressed with how committed she's stayed to learning when most kids her age might have given it up by now.

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