Breanna even drives in new bolts so there’s no threat of the shelves falling forward.
I clap when we finish, and Breanna grins broadly.
Maybe it’s nothing, but it feels like an accomplishment, and we did it ourselves.
“Is it safe in there?” The familiar voice calls out from the hallway. “It sounds like you’ve been wrangling a herd of elephants.”
“It’s safe!” I turn to see Pete looking in. His arms are in a strange position, and I assume it’s because he was having to hold Cassie back from barreling into the room on her own. “Come on in, Cassie!”
Cassie squeals and sprints into the room and directly toward me, her long brown braids flying behind her.
She’s almost four with a face like mine, eyes like Cade’s, and a bright, sunny spirit that’s entirely her own.
I crouch down so she can throw herself into my arms, and I lift her up as I hug her, wincing slightly when my back twinges.
Cassie doesn’t notice, but Pete definitely does. He shakes his head at me and then gestures silently toward the shelves we moved.
“It needed moving, so we moved it,” I tell him as I let Cassie slide gently back to the floor.
“Uh huh.”
When Nell’s knees gave out a couple of years ago, she had to take a step back from the Pub. She shifted into a consulting position, and Pete and I divided her management duties between us.
“Mommy, mommy!”
I glance down toward my daughter demanding attention. “Inside voice.”
“Mommy, mommy!” she repeats in a stage whisper.
I try and fail not to laugh. “Yes?”
“Uncle Pete taught me a new game.”
“Really? What was that?”
“Tic-Tac-Toe. And I won!” This time, she corrects the decibel of her exclamation herself and shifts from loud to soft abruptly on the last word.
“Good for you! You’ll have to play with Daddy tonight.”
“I will. I’ll beat him too! Hi, Breanna, do you know Tic-Tac-Toe?”
“I used to play it with my sister when she was your age.”
“Did you win or did she?”
“Usually me. She was never very competitive, so she didn’t care if she won.”
“Oh.” Cassie mulls this over soberly. “I care.”
“I bet you do.”
“Your hair is real pretty. How did it get red like that?”
“I was born with it.” Breanna doesn’t appear at all uncomfortable talking to Cassie, but she doesn’t use baby-talk like a lot of other people. She converses as if Cassie is an adult. “Del’s hair is red too, but a different shade red than mine.”
“Oh. Del’s hair is short. Why is yours long like Mommy’s?”
“Because your mommy and I didn’t cut ours like Del did. Yours can be short too if you cut it.”
