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“They are small things. Regretfully, embarrassingly small, but perhaps it is the little things that make a difference.” I paused, knowing it was nowhere near enough. “A small difference.”
“That’s it,” Junie declared. “I totally fucking want to be you when I grow up.”
I laughed even as I studied her. “If I were you, beautiful, I’d never want to be anyone else.”
Lucky
Usually, we met up on Wednesday for our midweek date night, but the drive to see her rode me hard.
I couldn’t get her face out of my head. At my house when she shut down, then cut me down before she walked away, and worse, at her place, mottled and swollen from crying.
After this morning’s text, the craving grew only worse.
Lucky: Come over tonight. I’ve got Brayleigh so I can’t come to you.
Minty: You sure? Yesterday brought a lot of drama. Maybe we should take a few days?
Lucky: It’s because of all the drama yesterday that I want to see you today.
Minty: I’m okay, Lucky. Truly.
Lucky: I’m not. Come over.
Minty: (happy face.)
Lucky: (tongue, cat, water droplets, eggplant, waterfall.)
There was a lengthy pause.
Minty: Oh my gosh, Lucky. I asked Junie what that meant!
Lucky: (hiding behind hands.)
Minty: (laughing face) See you at six.
Knowing I’d see her after work settled my nerves about the weekend, and the news about underwear-gate lifted my spirits.
Sasha dropped a card off on my desk on her way out the door. A Hallmark. $6.99. That’s a lot of money for a kid like her.
“Fuck.”
I nearly cried when I opened it.
By the time Minty arrived, I’d picked up Brayleigh from daycare, taken her to the park, dropped by the grocery store to pick up vegan sausage as well as pasta, three different types of sauce, and sour dough bread. I threw in cherry tomatoes, cucumber, bocconcini cheese and olives hoping that would satisfy her fixation on salad.
Cookies. I forgot cookies. I looked at Brayleigh, unsure if she could handle one more stop and determined she could not.
It irritated me that I didn’t have cookies.
In all my years, I’d never felt so driven to provide for a woman. Even when Hope had the baby, staying with her simply struck me as the correct thing to do. I would have done it even if I wasn’t Brayleigh’s father.
But this drive to provide for Minty, to feed her, care for her, make her smile, please her, this came as a surprise.
I slapped my hand on the steering wheel. “Brayleigh? Uber eats. Uber eats is the solution and Bliss kitchen is the Holy Grail of desserts for Minty.”
“Hi, Da,” Brayleigh replied.
I smiled at her in the rearview mirror. “Hi, Tweetie. Daddy got you popsicles. You want a popsicle when we get home?”
