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“Will you run around with me outside?” she asked.
“We can play tag when we get home. How does that sound?”
“Yeah! Tag with Mommy!”
I looked into the rearview mirror and took in my daughter’s eyes. Lillian looked just like me. Auburn hair, apple cheeks, and fair skin that held a tan instead of burning in the sun. But she didn’t have my eyes. They weren’t a sea green like mine. She had her father’s eyes, that crisp sky blue I’d fallen in love with all those years ago.
Even though he’d been gone a year, it still hurt to look into my daughter’s eyes.
“Mommy?”
“Yes, honeybee?”
“Why do you call me honeybee?” Lily asked.
“Do you want me to call you something else?” I asked.
“Grandma calls me princess.”
“Well, that’s Grandma’s nickname for you. That’s why I don’t call you princess.”
“Daddy called me princess.”
I gripped my steering wheel hard as tears brewed behind my eyes.
“That he did,” I said.
“Does Grandma call me princess because Daddy isn’t here to do it anymore?” Lily asked.
“I think so, yes.”
“Do you not call me princess because it hurts to say it because Daddy’s gone?”
My daughter always had a way of reminding me that she had her father’s intuitive spirit. She was remarkable for her age.
“A little bit,” I said. “But I’m fine.”
“I miss Daddy.”
“I miss him, too, honeybee.”
“You wanna know what I miss the most?” Lily asked.
“What’s that?”
“I miss his coffee.”
“What?” I asked.
“The way his coffee smelled. You drink gross coffee. It’s all black and nasty. But Daddy’s coffee always smelled like flowers.”
“Flowers,” I said.
“Mhm. Like the flowers we have in our backyard.”
“I don’t think Daddy’s coffee smelled
like flowers. I think his hair smelled like flowers.”
