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Even though I can tell he’s nervous, too, his eyebrows lift slightly and he says, “It’s going to be okay.”
“What if she says no?” I nearly whimper.
He shakes his head. “She won’t. She’s—” his voice weakens with feeling and he laughs once, just as weakly, before he clears his throat, “—baby, she’s going to beso happy.”
As if on cue, a car-muffled but still very audible, “Annie! Landon!” comes shrieking at us from the direction of the house.
The grin that springs to life on his face and the delight in her voice bring me peace.
“See?” he says. “She loves the crap out of us.”
We’re out of the car in two seconds because we’re as excited to see her as she is to see us. Up on the porch, Shannon is finishing pulling what looks like silly string off of her, so we hurry that way.
Once her hair and shoulders are free of it, she hurries to us, too, and we meet in the middle of the yard. Landon and I both kneel so she can fling a big hug on us.
This is right. This is so right.
“Hi! Hi!” she exclaims in that voice that, even though she’s nine now, sounds as delicate and sweet to me as it did when she was a toddler. “I missed you!”
“We missed you!” we say together.
As she pulls back, we both mess with some part of her—Landon chortles as he brushes at her hair, which appears to have food in it in one place, and I give her hands a squeeze.
“Have you had fun?” I ask.
Her eyes are as happy as the blue sky, her smile so big it’s turning her cheeks pink. “Yeah! I’m ready to go home, though. I miss my Rapunzel blanket!” In a whisper just for us, she adds, “Abby’s blanket isnotas soft as that one.” She absolutely loves theTangledbedding we got her for her last birthday.
We titter with her before Shannon says, “Hello, hello, lovebirds!” as she approaches.
We turn our attention from our little reunion to her.
“Hi!” I reply with a smile.
“Hey, Shannon,” Landon says sunnily. “Thanks so much again for watching Miss Rae this weekend!”
“Of course! As always, she was a joy.”
I know she means that, but I also know she’s ready to have one less kid in her house. Since Landon and I are ready to have Rae back, we don’t linger for too long; Bill and Abby come out to say hi and goodbye, and we extend yet another word of thanks both for their generosity and their extra congratulations on our marriage.
Then we head home.
And…I’m not nervous anymore.
Not on the way there. Not when we get there. Not when we spend the next couple hours getting the syrup out of Rae’s hair, unpacking her stuff, talking about her weekend, and doing a handful of easy chores.
She takes a nap and Landon and I go back over our plan. Later, we girls help him cook homemade chicken strips and fries for dinner—one of her very favorites—and our conversation at the table is cheerful and goofy like it usually is.
It’s right,I think as he politely interrupts a story about Abby’s cat to remind her not to talk with food in her mouth, and she listens to him. When she’s done with her tale, he regales her with the one of how I saved his life that time. She gasps and looks between us with pure wonder.
She loves us. We love her.
It’s right.
No, I’m not nervous.
Between cleaning up and getting ready for our customary post-dinner movie, Landon’s eyes meet mine again and again, a hundred times. I can see that whatever nervousness he felt in the car is gone, too.
Across the living room from her, he puts his warm hands on my shoulders and takes the same deep breath I do.
