Page 130 of Trouble from Abroad
“Yeah. Something like that.” The air goes still, waiting for her answer.
She shrugs, casual as if I’d just asked which socks for the day. “That’s fine. But…” She lifts a finger.
Oh fuck.
“Can I choose?”
My pulse stutters. So does my voice. “Ch-choose?”
“Yep. I want to pick. I already know who.”
Of course I’m curious, but this could end in fireworks or carnage. She can choose the woman I’m falling for. If she names her nanny, I’m throwing my kid up in the air, and we’re going out to buy a lottery ticket.
Or, bile rises up my throat, she could name her favorite auntie, and I’ll projectile vomit on top of my firstborn and only daughter. Or… a darker voice, from the corner where my worst fears reside, whispers that she might ask for her mom back, and I’d have nothing left to give her but splinters. Either way, I can’t stop sweating, and smearing my pants isn’t off the table.
Unlike me, Lily doesn’t hesitate.
“Duh, Dad. Isn’t it obvious? Mia!” Lily kicks her feet under the blanket. “She makes you smile way more than you did before, like, way more, and she makes me laugh so hard my tummy hurts. She does all those funny voices when she reads. Remember the dragon one? That’s the best. And she’s really, really good at Go Fish. Better than you.” She pokes me, grin turning sassy. “And the house isn’t quiet all the time now, it’s… fun. And Mia listens to me, like, really listens. And she never forgets ‘no crusts’ on my sandwiches. And she even sings the silly songs I make up, even if they don’t rhyme.” She takes a fast little breath in, then snuggles deeper into her pillow, her voice soft but certain. “She just… belongs here. With us. Don’t you think?”
Fuck. There goes Lily, observant and wise beyond her years, rattling off truth like it’s the ABCs. I press a hand over hers, desperate for steady ground. When I find my voice, it comes out rough.
“I do, Lil. I really do.”
Lily yawns, already rolling to her side. “Don’t mess it up, Dad. I choose Mia. Go ask her to be your girlfriend.”
When I flick off the lights, I’m more convinced than ever that our home’s been rezoned to dreamland. Then I step into the hall, and there’s Mia. Toothpaste foam coats her wide-open mouth, toothbrush dangling from her hand. One look at her and it’s clear she heard every word.
I approach with caution, and she doesn’t budge. I pluck the toothbrush from her hand, return it to the bathroom, and when I come back, she’s still rooted to the spot. Mouth wiped clean now, eyes sparkling with unshed tears. Awe and panic flicker in there.
“Guess eavesdropping’s kind of our thing, right?” I joke, hoping to pull her out of her stunned silence. It doesn’t work.
“I love her so much,” she whispers, staring at Lily’s door. One lone tear escapes her effort and falls.
“I know. But thanks for saying it out loud.”
I weave my fingers through hers, tugging her softly toward the stairs. Her grip falters, as if one more step might make it all too real. As if she’s holding something back.
“Lily’s blessing is the only green light I’ll ever need. And now we have it.”
She doesn’t answer, her mind already somewhere far away.
Quiet settles between us—hope on my side, hesitationon hers—and I can only pray Lily’s words hit where mine couldn’t. Hope that she’ll stop fighting the inevitable—us—soon enough.
I need to tug again, coaxing a small step from her. “Come to bed, Trouble. My daughter wants me to ask you something.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
preston
I’mstunned into silence when I come back home from some last-minute shopping. In the span of an afternoon, Mia—flanked by April and Callie—has turned my house into the promised twelve-name party Lily wouldn’t stop talking about.
Rainbow streamers twist from the ceiling fans as if someone fed them sugar and let them loose. Balloons the size of small planets crowd the floor, most of them pearly purple with manatee faces scrawled in Sharpie. Glitter-coated cutouts of unicorns dangle from fishing line, turning lazily in the air currents, catching the light in a way that makes me certain I’ll still be vacuuming this mess when Lily heads to college.
The dining table has been sacrificed into stations: a slime bar that belongs in a hazmat lab, and a DIY bath bomb setup already dusting lavender into the air. Kids will make and take home their own unicorn poo bath bombs inside their party bags. Down by the living room, it’s a ‘decorate your toilet paper roll’ craft corner that I don’t evenwant to think about. It’s right next to the toilet piñata, of course.
April’s broom is mid-swipe across the glitter-slick floor, her face tight with regret. Liam stands in the corner, stiff as marble, staring at the sparkly carnage. That is, until Lily spots him.
He doesn’t see it coming. She charges across the room, latches onto his legs, and the man melts, softening as instantly as cup noodles in boiling water.
