Page 267 of Tell Me I'm Enough

I love it.

“That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Lani says, pressing a hand to her heart.

Lydia’s eyes get all watery. “Stop, you’re making it weird.”

Bash walks her over and pays before telling her to pick one out.

She just stares at them like they’re all death traps. “What if I get hurt…or break something? I’ve never broken anything before.”

Bash kisses the top of her head. “You won’t get hurt.”

“How do you know?” she argues, arms crossed in a little pout.

“Because I won’t let you. You’ve got this, and I’ll be right there with you. I won’t let anything happen.”

“Promise?” she asks.

“Promise.”

Erik clears his throat. “Okay…well, the emotions are getting a little heavy, and I’m not trying to be seen crying at a park as a grown man, so…let’s hurry this up.”

Bash glares at him, and I laugh a little.

We help Lydia pick out a cute little blue bike, then Bash crouches down, adjusting the seat for her while Lydia hovers behind him, fidgeting with her hands.

Bash stands and holds the bike steady. “Alright. Put one foot on the pedal, and then get the other foot ready to push off.”

Lydia just stands there, staring at the bike. “I hate this already,” she mutters.

“You’ve got this,” Lani encourages.

I start clapping for her. “We believe in you!”

“Don’t clap,” Lydia snaps nervously through a laugh. “That’s too much pressure.”

Bash laughs softly. “Okay, Class. No clapping.” Then he turns back to Lydia. “Just breathe.”

He helps her as she climbs on awkwardly, wobbling instantly.

“Don’t let go of me,” she says quickly.

“I won’t.”

It takes several tries, and a lot of resistance from Lydia, plus a lot more reassurance from Bash, before Lydia finally gets it down pat and is pedaling by herself.

He never looks impatient or annoyed with her. He’s just always exactly what she needs, like he has all the cheat codes to the way her brain likes to panic.

“You’re doing it!” Lani shouts.

“I am?” Lydia squeals nervously.

“You are!” I yell, smiling, watching her.

I don’t care if this is stupid and small…for her, it’s big. It’s something she never got to experience as a kid, and it’s beautiful to watch someone care enough about her to give her these experiences, no matter our age.

I’m clapping now, full pressure be damned. “You’re literally riding a bike!”

She makes it halfway across the field before she slows down and awkwardly hops off, nearly tripping over herself.