Page 62 of Safe With You

That was usually where my prayers started.

Not with requests.

With gratitude.

The rest tended to find their way in eventually.

A floorboard creaked somewhere down the hall, followed by the unmistakable sound of a bedroom door opening.

“Daddy?”

I set my mug in the sink before she had the chance to call again.

A few seconds passed before Mila appeared at the end of the hallway, one hand rubbing at her eyes while the other held her stuffed elephant by its trunk. Her curls pointed in every direction, and one side of her face still carried the faint imprint of her pillowcase.

“There she is.”

She squinted at me. “How’d you know it was me?”

“I took a wild guess.”

She considered that for a second before nodding. “You’re good at guessing.”

“I’ve had practice.”

She padded the rest of the way into the kitchen and wrapped both arms around my waist without saying anything. Mornings usually started this way. No matter how independent she insisted she was these days, she still needed a minute before she was ready to be six years old.

I rested my chin against the top of her head.

“You sleep okay?”

“Mhm.”

“Any dinosaurs chase you last night?”

“No.” She pulled back just enough to look up at me. “Just a turtle.”

“A turtle?”

“He was nice.”

“That’s good to know.”

“He said I still need one.”

I laughed, already reaching into the cabinet for a cereal bowl.

“The turtle would say that.”

“He was very convincing.”

“I’m sure he was.”

By the time I’d poured her cereal and sliced a banana over the top, she’d wandered into the bathroom to brush her teeth. I started packing her lunch while she hummed some song she’d apparently learned at camp over the summer, loud enough that I could hear every third word from down the hall.

“Daddy?”

Her voice echoed through the hallway.