She rolls her eyes my way. "That's the microwave, Dad." She backs away anyway. "I think."
We all laugh, including Tessa, the tension between us calming some.
"I should probably shower," she says, her fingers returning to the spot I just touched—claimed. "But this last loaf should be ready to go in soon and should only take like forty minutes. I can hurry once it's done if that's okay."
"Sure."
"Can I do it?"
Ruthie and I answer simultaneously, and I'm happy when Tessa looks at her first.
"Can I, Tess? Please? You taught me how—grease the pan, pour the batter, tap it on the counter."
"Yeah, but then you have to put it in the oven," Tess argues. "And take the finished one out."
"I can do it, I promise!" Ruthie looks at me. "Please, Dad."
My eyes flit to Tessa who, judging by the eye contact, is clearly deferring to me. They flick back to Ruthie, then to Tess, then once again to my kid.
My jaw grows tight. I know at twelve this probably shouldn't be such a big deal—the things I was doing at twelve make using an oven look like child's play. Literally. But Ruthie's not me… she's my little girl.
I look once more at Tess, whose face is soft, waiting, and I'm reminded of how good change can be.
"Use oven mitts," I say simply.
Ruthie lights up as she beams at Tessa, who meets her excitement with a full-face smile.
"Well, alright then," Tessa says, squeezing Ruthie's hand. "Set the timer for forty-minutes once you put it in. I'll be down in time to help take it out."
She shakes her head up and down as she sprints toward the giant bowl.
"Is crashing a daddy-daughter date considered taking things slow?" Tessa whispers, turning toward me, her expression caught somewhere between concern and amusement.
Shoving my hands into the pockets of my shorts, I shrug. "Are you coming as Ruthie's nanny or my…"
Her cheeks flush, and the rest of my question gets caught in my throat. I clear it and drop my eyes to the floor. "It was Ruthie's idea, so it seems fair," I finish with instead.
She lets out a quiet laugh and shakes her head. "Alright, well… I guess I'll take that shower then."
All of my blood rushes straight to my feet. "Sounds good," I manage, my mouth suddenly dry. "I guess I'll do the same."
33
Tessa
"Tessa, what kind of candy do you want?" Ruthie peers up at me as we wait in line at concessions, forcing me to return to the moment.
"Oh, I'm good," I answer with a smile. I glance over at Liam. "Thank you, though."
He doesn't respond—just stares at me expectantly—and I don't know why until I see Ruthie's head shaking back and forth.
"Nope," she says matter-of-factly. "That's the rule. We each get drinks and a small popcorn, and everyone picks a different candy so we can all share."
I glance back at Liam, who simply shrugs, offering me a closed-lip smile.
"Okay, then…" I stand on my tip-toes to find the options past the customers waiting in front of us.
"Please say M&Ms, please say M&Ms…" I settle back onto the balls of my feet to find Ruthie whisper-chanting with her fingers crossed in front of her face.
