Page 139 of Trouble from Abroad
“Dad,” she shouts over Mia’s shoulder. “Did you do it?”
I know exactly what she means, but Mia’s too stunned, so she stammers, “Did what?”
I take Mia’s hand first, then murmur, “This,” and kiss her cheek.
Mia blushes crimson, with Lily still hanging off her like a reverse backpack.
“Yay,” Lily cheers, bouncing. “Auntie April kissed Uncle Liam, and he moved here forever. Now Dad kissed you. So you’ll stay forever too, right?”
Not fair. Absolutely not fair for her to be pinned against a wall by a seven-year-old. But it’s Lily’s birthday. So I’m legally bound to give my daughter everything she wants today.
Mia clears her throat, but her eyes are glassy. “Well, love… it’s a little more complicated than that. I might have to go back to London once my visa’s up. There are rules I need to follow. But—” She presses her forehead to Lily’s, whispering, “I’d really like to stay with you two, too. So we’ll figure out a way, yeah?”
First, my daughter gave me her blessing. Now she’s the witness to something bigger.Mia wants to stay.
This is where she belongs, her new home, and she feels it too. A truth so undeniable, it was only a matter of time before she came to terms with it. I knew it. Or I prayed day and night for it.Tomato, tomahto.
My cheeks ache from smiling, but I can’t stop. Won’t stop. She’s ours.
There’s a strange sound in my head, like bolts sliding, pieces clicking into place.
Either I’m losing it, or I just heard the universe sayfinally.
CHAPTER SIXTY
mia
There’sa shift in the atmosphere the very next day.
Pres doesn’t hide our kisses anymore—the PG ones, of course, especially now that he knows they make Lily giggle so hard she snorts. If before he stole touches like contraband, now he reaches for me openly. And he’s collecting the debt he's owed.
Group hugs are now a thing. We’ve turned them into a breakfast side and added them to the night routine too. Mandatory cuddles? You’ll get zero complaints from me.
The scrapbook’s already thickening—corners of new Polaroids are curling where the glue gave up. Lily clips new pics on the twine in the hallway: our singing battles, pancake chaos, telescope nights. Preston must be spending her college fund on Polaroid film. The place feels more like ours every day; there’s always somebody laughing, singing, or leaving a mess behind. And for the first time, messy doesn’t bother me at all.
Outside, the air’s getting colder. Mornings mean hoodies, fogged breath, and Lily’s little red nose as she waves atus from the school gates. Evenings start sooner and we found Jupiter last night. Pres whispered boring facts about its orbit until I kissed him mid-sentence just to shut him up. He grinned into my lips and said, “Teen Preston always knew hot girls love it when I talk science.” He wiggled his brows, and I cracked up. I love his silly side.
I’ve started slipping tiny notes into Lily’s lunchbox. Dumb puns mostly. “Have aflantasticday!” or “You’re thezest!” She saves every single one in a purple box with kitty ears when she gets home.
What I didn’t expect was Pres liking his notes so much too. I wrote “You’re my favorite snack” on top of his packed lunch one day. He texted me that afternoon with a photo of the Post-it stuck over his heart. I nearly walked into a lamppost, smiling.
This week, he sent me on what he called a ‘multi-store mission’—something about specific brands of protein yogurt and the good kind of toilet paper. It felt suspicious from the start.
When I got home, my room was empty. Correction:Ourroom was fuller.
My books, clothes, sketch pads—everything—had migrated to the his bedroom. Pres stood there, leaning against the doorway, all proud of himself.
“Before you bite my head off,” he said. “Lily helped.”
She peeked from behind him, grinning. “Welcome home, Mia.”
And what could I do but pepper their faces with kisses until one of them screamed for me to stop? Lily, obviously.
Later that day, Lily drew us. Three stick figures and one speech bubble over her headthat said “NO CRUSTS.”
Pres pushed everything else off the fridge—calendars, flyers, dentist reminders—and pinned it dead center with the care of someone handling something sacred.
“We were due a family picture.” He clears his throat. “Thanks, Lil.”
