Page 282 of Trouble from Abroad
“That’s not enough,” I say, too fast.
“Pres…” Just half my name, but it carries so much—sadness, warning,not now.
I swallow hard. Tell myself not to push.
“What?” It’s an honest question.
“You’re ready to go back to work.” Her fingertip traces shaky circles over my heart. “Your routinewillbe tight—stick to what keeps your head and body in check. Lily is doing great.” Her whole face brightens at my daughter’s name, the way it always does. “She’s in therapy; what happened is out in the open, so she can heal in her own time and way. Her performance in school has been really good, all things considered.” Mia looks up at me. “You’re both doing great.”
She’s pivoting to schedules and structure when all I can think about is losing her. I sit up against the pillows on the headboard and bring her with me.
“Because of you. And you know I’m not talking about the chaos you found and wrangled after your arrival.” Her finger stills. I choose the next words carefully, defusing the bomb leaning on my chest. “Tell me I’m not out of my mind, Mia. Tell me you feel it too. Or at least that you know you carved a place in my life only you can fill.”
“Pres, I…”
I take her hand, kiss every knuckle, then set it against my chest so she can feel what she does to me. “Mia, we’re doing much more than ticking boxes on a list.”
“I’m not ready for this conversation. Not right now. Please.” She lays her cheek back on me, choosing silence over an answer. It’s fear. So I press my tongue to my teeth and opt for restraint. I won’t cage her. Won’t push her into making a promise she can’t afford to keep.
“Okay,” I say, softer than I feel, reaching for neutral ground. “At least you’ll be here for Lily’s birthday,” I say as I turn off the lights.
Her head lifts, chin perched on my sternum; we find each other in the dark. “Oh. When is it?”
“In three weeks.” I scrub a hand over my face. “Which means the party should already be planned. Invitations sent. I’m very late to this.”
She catches my hand, kisses the top of it, and sets it under her chin like a pillow. “Don’t worry. I’ll start tomorrow.”
“I’m glad you’ll be here.” Ha. ‘Glad’ is an insult to what I feel. “Can you imagine if she asked for you as her birthday gift and I couldn’t deliver?”
Mia bites me playfully on my thumb. “You’re silly. So, can I plan the party? What do you usually do?”
“Of course you can. Lily will go wild with joy. And I’m helping.” One of her eyebrows climbs; I deserve it. “Fine. Historically, I outsourced it to a planner, or to Calista and April. Blake always hated doing those. Even missed her fourth birthday for a yoga retreat she absolutely couldn’t pass up. Sometimes we host it here; sometimes at Calista’s apartment—it’s the size of a city block. We’ll ask Lily what she wants in the morning.”
“Deal.” I can see the ideas spinning behind her eyes, but minutes later, she’s breathing soft against my chest.
I stare at the ceiling and try to count backward from a hundred. Can’t. Instead, I picture Lily blowing out candles with Mia behind her, palms on her little shoulders—then I picture the day where Mia isn’t. My throat tightens.Don’t push, Preston.Fix what you can. Call someone. Find options. But not tonight.
The alarm drags me up too soon. I silence it and hold Mia tighter. We fell asleep with our clothes on, too exhausted to strip or change. I watch her sleep for another couple of minutes and make a quiet promise: I will not let a date on a federal form decide my family’s future.
And I will not scare Mia off by trying to claim her before she’s ready.
There’s time. I make a call just in case.
* * *
Mia’s trying to make herself useful since I got Lily ready for school on my own. She sets the breakfast table while I plate eggs onto toast.
Lily barrels into the kitchen so fast she nearly takes Miaout at the knees. Mia squeaks, steadying the juice pitcher before it tips, and then there’s just a tangle of little arms and brown locks around her waist.
“Miaaa,” Lily sings, muffled against her shirt. “Dad said you’re planning my party!”
Mia bends down, mock serious. “I sure am, boss. Let’s talk themes. Unicorns? Dinosaurs? Glitterextravaganza?”
“All of it,” my daughter answers, eyes wide, drunk on power and possibilities.
Mia blinks. “All of it?”
“Yes.” Lily rises on her toes, eyes brighter than the morning sun. “Actually, unicorns, mermaids,andfairies. Uh… Fart noises too. And manatees. And slime. But the slime has to have glitter.”
