“Would you like to move in with me? I have a four-bedroom house and I’m all alone. I could set up one room as a studio for you, one as an office and we could keep the other for a guest room. I guess the rest of the world would say we should at least wait for six months but… Would you like to do it?”
“The rest of the world doesn’t have you for a Daddy,” she says. “So the rest of the world doesn’t understand. Do you really want me to move in?”
“I do,” I say.
“Oh, Daddy! Yes! Yes!” she shouts and suddenly she’s on top of me, straddling me right there on the kitchen chair and covering my face with kisses. It’s not sexual at all. Well, I’ve got a lovely girl on top of me, so it’s at least a little sexual for me. The point is, she’s just a little girl overwhelmed with excitement, love and gratitude.
I wonder at how much she can mean to me after such a short time together. Then she kisses my cheek and softly whispers, “I love you, Daddy,” into my ear before lowering her head onto my chest again and I don’t wonder at all.
We spend the rest of the evening watching tv while cuddling together on the sofa. She enjoys her ice cream and laughs as animated characters get themselves into and out of impossible predicaments in hilarious ways. I laugh too, not because I think the show is funny but because I’m overwhelmed with joy watching Lyric happy.
It hits me like a freight train that I will get to see Lyric like this all the time now that she’ll be living with me. I won’t only get the Lyric that is dressed up for our dates but the Lyric that unwinds on the couch in pajamas at the end of a long day of work and the Lyric that falls out of bed with mussed-up hair and bleary eyes.
I squeeze her hand and say, “I love you, little girl.”
She smiles up at me and says, “I love you, Daddy.”
If there have ever been more perfect words in the English language, I’ve never heard them.