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“Well, you look better,” Minty greeted as she swung open the door.
“Mine Mama!” Brayleigh squealed, her arms in the air, smiling widely. She picked herself up off the floor and barreled toward me.
“Mine baby!” I yelled back, scooping her up. “How are you, Tweetie?”
She wrapped her arms around me. Though I couldn’t see, I felt the tips of her little fingers pressing into the back of my neck. I knew they turned white from the pressure. The sweetness that was all her pierced my heart and brought tears to my eyes.
She released me as quickly as she launched herself at me, telling me, “I’m beating Daddy!”
I turned to Minty. “Are they wrestling again?”
“Yes.” She shook her head. “And that man has come up with wrestling names for both of them.”
“He’s not going with Captain?” I teased.
“He says that’s special for me.” Minty blushed and rolled her eyes. “You doing better?”
I nodded. “Much. You had quite a bit to do with that. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. You would have come up with it yourself. You were just a little shell-shocked.”
“I met with a few of the girls from dance this morning.”
“Yes?” Her face brightened with interest. “How’d that go?”
“You’re not going to believe it. There are four of them. They want to stay with me, but they have their own ideas, too. For example, everyone learns the routines, but only three or four perform. We always have a spare so people’s schedules can loosen up a bit.”
“That makes perfect sense.”
“And get this. They want to add a mini-troupe. All ages. Three to eighteen.”
“Really?” Minty’s perfect brows rose.
“Yup! Sunny runs her own dance studio and she’s willing to donate space. She wants her students to have more opportunity to perform. And the other girls want something for their kids to be involved in with them. They’re single moms. Isn’t that amazing?”
“It is! She didn’t donate space before?”
“No,” I snorted out an obnoxious laugh. “She didn’t like Victoria, and the other girls rubbed her the wrong way. She didn’t want them in her own space.”
Lucky ran through the kitchen holding Brayleigh in front of him like Rafiki in The Lion King. “All hail, the new pint-weight champion of the world wrestling federation, Brazen Brayleigh!”
I nearly fell off my chair when Minty jumped to her feet and began chasing after them, cheering loudly, “Bra-zen! Bra-zen! Bra-zen!”
Coming back around and stopping in front of me, Lucky set Brayleigh on her feet on the kitchen table and raised her tiny arm.
She looked at me proudly, no doubt in her baby brain that she accomplished this grand feat.
“I beat him, Mama! I beat the Grand Poobah!”
I slapped my hand down on the table. “Grand Poobah? Really?” I curled into myself, my arms wrapped tight around my quaking belly.
Brayleigh jumped up and down.
Lucky latched on to the back of her overalls, his hand flying to his chest as he rolled his eyes at the near disaster.
“I beat him for you, mine mama,” she yelled, pointing at me. “And now I gonna beat,” she deepened her voice and growled, “Minty the Maneater.”
I dropped into a ball on my chair. “I’m dead,” I screamed. “I can’t!”
