“In case of wolves.”
Penny laughs beside me, and Elle darts ahead, hopping along the edge of the sidewalk like it’s a balance beam.
I open my mouth—
“Careful, bug!” Penny calls. “Walk on your side, please!”
“Okay!”
I glance down at Penny as Elle corrects course immediately. She doesn’t even realize she did it. Penny keeps her eyes on Elle, smiling lightly, and her shoulder brushes mine as we fall into step.
It’s been a while since I’ve been able to walk Elle to school, and due to the later start, I jumped at the chance. Especially as it meant more time with Penny, too.
“On Sunday,” Elle starts, bouncing back toward us, “we need chocolate chips for the penguins because penguins deserve treats.”
“Fair,” Penny agrees, grinning as Elle skips ahead again.
“She also thinks broccoli deserves treats,” I add.
“That’s optimistic of her.”
“You’re encouraging this.” I glance at her. “And I’m outnumbered.”
She tilts her face toward me. “You seem to be coping.”
My eyes lock on hers. “I’ll manage.”
There’s the faintest color in her cheeks, but she doesn’t look away until Elle stops dead in front of us and spins around.
“Daddy, can we take Penny to the lake this weekend too?”
Her question catches me off guard, because the lake has always been ours. Mine and Elle’s place after hard weeks and long shifts and custody meetings that left both of us wrung out. Somewhere quiet enough to breathe again.
Somewhere safe.
I look at her, then at Penny. “If Penny wants to, sure.”
“Penny do you want to?” Elle grabs her hand. “It’s our special spot, and we skim stones and make wishes and Daddy always loses at skimming.”
“I do not lose.”
“You do!”
Penny glances at me before turning back to Elle. “I’d love to. Sounds fun.”
Elle lets out a noise that shouldn’t be possible before eight a.m. and bolts ahead again.
“You sure?” I ask quietly as we walk.
“Yeah.”
Our hands brush when the pavement narrows and instinct says pull back—but I don’t. My hand finds the small of her back, and I guide her ahead to the safer side.
Elle skids to a stop at the school gate and turns around, backpack bouncing against her spine. “Don’t forget the big blanket! The thick one! And bring the new thermos for the hot chocolate because that other one made it yuck.”
“That was one time,” I call back.
“It tasted like soup—oh!”
