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My brow is sweaty, and I wipe it with the back of my hand.
My mouth is dry.
Suddenly, I spot them. They’re coming toward us, not too far off. Raven pulled her dark hair back in a ponytail, and her bright red coat contrasts her porcelain skin. Next to her, a little girl holds a large cup. Her hair is golden in the midday sun, and her eyes lock on mine almost right away.
My heart nearly stops.
When they reach us, Ava stands in front of me.
“Hello,” she says politely.
“Hi,” I answer.
“Cherie, this is Noah. Your father.”
I swallow hard. I don’t know what to say.
Ava holds out her hand, and I shake it. It’s all very formal. I can taste my heart in my throat.
“We got you hot chocolate,” Ava says. When she speaks, she has a French accent, and it's adorable.
I look at the cup she’s holding, but she shakes her head.
Raven holds out a carton.
“Oh,” I say. “Thank you.” I take a cup from her.
Raven sits down next to me, perched on the edge. She’s nervous, too.
“Do you like hot chocolate?” Ava asks.
“I love it.”
“Me too.” She sips hers, and it creates a chocolate mustache on her lip. “Do you like going on the swings?”
“I haven’t in a long time, but I used to love it,” I say.
“Do you want to push me on the swings?” she asks.
I nod. “Sure.”
She holds her cup perilously in one tiny hand, nearly tipping it over, and holds out her other hand to me when I stand. When I take her hand, she leads me to the swings.
“We’ll be back, Mommy,” she says, and I look over at my shoulder at Raven.
She looks emotional.
Ava puts her cup down to the side of the swings and I help her get up.
“Do you have other children?” Ava asks when I push her.
“No,” I say. “Only you.”
“I thought maybe I have a brother or a sister.”’
She’s sharp for her age.
“Do you want a brother or a sister?”
