Page 120 of Trouble from Abroad
My new schedule isn’t as neat—or anywhere near as colorful—as the ones Mia makes. At first, I picture her throwing a fit, trying to wedge PT, therapy, quiet time, and everything else she planned into my new hours.
But that image fades fast. What comes instead is her biggest smile. The one that always makes me wonder if it hurts—lips stretched wide enough to show her back teeth, cheeks lifted so high her eyes nearly disappear.
Yeah. That’s what she’ll give me when she finds out I’m going back to work.
April and Callie barge in without knocking—what a shocker—and I wipe the grin off my face.
They both start talking at once, but April wins the floor with a hand on Calista’s arm. “This is more than proof that you’re ready?—”
“I’ve sent the board an email. I’ll oversee Kate’s recovery this week and be back officially next Monday. A slower transition for Lily’s sake.”
“I can accept that,” Callie declares, and I can’t help laughing at her. She cracks up too, then drops into the chair across from me.
April stays standing, hands braced on the backrest. “That’s amazing, Pres.” Relief softens her more than happiness does. “It’ll be so good to have you back.”
“And about time,” Callie throws in. Of course she does.
“Now leave, both of you. I need to check in with my gir—l” I bite off the plural before it betrays me and keep my eyes on the phone.
“Which one?” Cal teases, and I hate her for seeing right through me.
“Cut it out. Not funny. Someone will sit at Kate’s bedside for the next forty-eight hours. Keep winding me up, and I’ll assume you’re volunteering.”
I lift my gaze, waiting for the sulk. Instead, Calista flips me the bird and leaves my office smiling. April just shakes her head, too used to our antics, and trails after her best friend.
The door clicks shut, and I Facetime my girls. “My.Girls.” I claim it out loud in safe quarters, relishing the S sound.
Mia answers on the second ring. They’ve moved on to dinner—chopping veggies side by side. I watch them, a smile begging my rolling lips to give in to it. Mia doesn’t spare me a glance, her focus locked on Lily’s hand bracing the carrot and the other gripping the knife. “Fingers in, remember?”
“Oh yeah,” my child answers, tucking her fingers under. She chops once, then looks up. “Like this?”
“Just like that. Great job, love. You’re mysous cheffrom now on.”
Lily laughs, admitting she doesn’t know what that means—but that smile says she likes the sound of it anyway.
I’m hyperaware of Mia calling herloveand can’t help wondering when—or if—my turn will come.
“Are you coming home for dinner, Dad? We’remaking…” Lily looks up at Mia, face blank. “What are we making again?”
“Shepherd’s pie.”
“That’s right. But with lamb.” She says it loud, with pure thrill, as though it’s her first taste ever.
“That’s the only kind, Lils. With beef, it’s cottage pie.” Mia finally glances at me, and I take her in. She steals my breath every time. Even through a tiny screen. I doubt it’ll ever change.
“What are you teaching this kid?” she teases.
I shoot back, “Clearly, I have no idea what I’m doing. That’s why I need you.”
“Blimey, Pres.” She smirks without looking away from the chopping board. “Careful. You almost made that sound like a compliment.”
“Daaaad, are you coming for dinner?” Lily pipes up, eyes bright.
“And how’s your friend?” Mia asks.
“I’m coming home in a bit. Surgery went as well as we could hope, but I’ll have to head back tonight to check on her.”
“Come home. We’ll get you fed, fresh, and ready to go back there in no time.”
