Beyond the Bases

“He’s good with her?” she questions.

My eyes prick with tears, because he is. He’s incredible with my daughter. “Yeah, he’s good with her. Too good, in fact. I fear if this… whatever it is turns into something, he’s going to spoil her rotten.”

“Nothing wrong with that.”

“Mommy, what are we having for dinner? My belly’s talking to me.”

“It is? What’s it saying?”

“That it wants pizza.”

We don’t eat out a lot. One, it gets expensive and two, I like to make sure she’s getting a balanced diet. I want to tell her that Easton is getting pizza, but I decide to surprise her instead. Let him be the one who tells her. It was his idea after all. I can’t help but let my mind wander to the last four years. Is this what it would have been like? Sharing the parenting responsibilities? My mom is wonderful and has helped me so much, but it’s different.

“We’ll have to see. Go grab your bag so we can go. Gram needs a break.”

“I’s got it on the porch.” She takes off running back to the porch, grabs her bag, and is back in no time.

“To have her energy,” Mom muses.

“Right?” I laugh. “Thanks again, Mom. I have the evening shift the next two days.”

“I’ll be ready and waiting for her.”

Leaning in, I wrap my arms around her and hug her tightly. There’s no way I could have done this on my own. My mom has been here every step of the way and given me more than she will ever know. One day, I hope to be in a job where she does not have to watch Paisley in the evenings. Where she can just be Gram and have sleepovers and play dates, and not the babysitter.

One day.When I pull into the driveway, I see the garage door lifting and Larissa pulling in. We could not have timed this better if we tried. Practice was long and grueling. Afterward, I stopped by and picked up dinner. I got Paisley her own cheese pizza, me a meat lovers, and another large cheese. I’ll eat anything, but I’m not sure what Larissa likes on her pizza. The other night when we went out, we just ordered cheese for the table.

Hitting the button on my visor, the other garage door opens just as Larissa is climbing out of her SUV. By the time I’m pulled in and grab the pizzas from the back seat, Paisley is wrapping her little arms around my legs.

“East! I’m so, so happy to see you. And you gots pizza.” She speaks with such joy, I can’t help but smile at her.

“I did. I thought you might be in the mood for some cheesy pie.” I brush some of her loose curls out of her eyes.

“Pie? Pizza isn’t pie, silly.” She finishes with a laugh.

“But it’s shaped like one. It’s a pizza pie.”

This time I’m greeted with a soft giggle. “Pizza pie,” she sings.

“All right, Miss P, let him go so we can head inside and eat.” Larissa reaches for her hand and Paisley takes it.

Pizza in one arm, I snake the other out and around her waist, guiding her into my arms. I place a kiss on her temple. “Missed you,” I whisper.

“What about me, did you miss me too, East?” Paisley asks in her sweet voice. It almost sounds as if she’s worried my answer might be no. As if it ever could be no when it comes to her.

I hand Larissa the pizza, then bend down and lift Paisley in my arms, settling her on my hip. “Of course I missed you. I missed both my girls.”

Her eyes widen. “We’re your girls?”

“Yep.” I kiss her on the temple, just as I did her mother seconds before. “You hungry?”

“So, so hungry. My belly was talking to me.”

“No way.” I feign disbelief.

Her little head bobs up and down. “Uh-huh, and it was telling me it wanted pizza. Ask Mommy.”

“Mommy?” I turn to face Larissa. “Did you hear this conversation?”

Larissa’s eyes sparkle with what I hope is amusement and happiness. “No, but Miss P informed me that her belly indeed did ask for pizza. You must be a belly reader.”

“A belly reader?” Paisley asks.

“Yeah, he knows what your belly wants when it’s hungry.”

“Do you hear pizza?” Paisley asks innocently.

“I sure do. I even heard that you wanted your very own pizza.” Her eyes widen. “Let’s get you inside so we can eat.” With Paisley on my hip, I follow Larissa into the house, hitting the buttons to close the garage doors on the way.

“Where do you want to sit?” Larissa asks.

I look down at Paisley who is still in my arms. “What do you think, princess? Should we eat inside or out on the deck?”

“It’s really hot out there,” she says, her face stone serious.