She’ll be up on her feet again soon, but I assured her to take her time since my family and I are balancing Stevie’s schedule at the moment.
“This cake is amazing,” Stevie declares as she finally gazes up from the plate in front of her. “What do you think, Astrid?”
Astrid fights to keep her composure as she glances in my daughter’s direction.
Chocolate frosting is smeared around Stevie’s lips.
I tap her shoulder and point at the untouched white linen napkin next to her dessert plate. “You have a little cake on your face, sweetheart.”
That sends the tip of her tongue racing over her lips. “Did I get it?”
I reach to grab her napkin and give it a snap to open it up. “I’ll help.”
A giggle escapes her. “Thank you, Dad.”
Our eyes meet for the briefest of moments, and I see something in her gaze. She’s happy.
Stevie is always sunshine personified, but tonight it’s leveled up.
I don’t know if it’s the promised guitar lesson that will follow dessert or if she’s thrilled that we’ve welcomed someone new into our lives.
Either way, her joy is my joy.
“How is that?” Stevie turns to face Astrid after I run the napkin over her mouth.
Astrid smiles. “You’re perfect.”
The ease at which they fell into conversation was comforting.
Astrid asked Stevie questions about school and Mrs. Lindenwood, which Stevie was eager to answer.
In some ways, I felt like a third wheel. I don’t have a single complaint about that.
Stevie bounces to her feet. “Is it time?”
I have to give her credit for all the patience she showed through dinner.
She wanted to get her hands on the guitar Astrid brought over right away, but I told her that we would have dinner before she dove headfirst into a guitar lesson.
She agreed with a polite smile, even though I could tell that she was itching to get a look at the guitar in the smaller case.
Astrid looks toward me. “I should help your dad clean up the dishes.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I’ll handle that. Why don’t you two head up to the music room? Stevie will show you her piano and drum set.”
Astrid nods before her gaze shifts to my daughter. “You’re a one girl band.”
“I wish,” Stevie says on a heavy exhale. “If I had six hands, I could play everything at once. I could drop out of school and tour the country.”
I laugh as Astrid’s hand jumps to her mouth to silence a soft chuckle.
“I know, I know.” Stevie giggles. “If I had six hands, I could do my schoolwork faster, and I’d be in the tenth grade by now.”
Astrid’s head drops, but she can’t control the movement of her shoulders. She’s doing her best to hold in a fit of laughter.
“Let’s go to the music room.” Stevie steps around her chair to tap Astrid on the shoulder. “I’ll play something on the piano to show you what you’re working with.”
Astrid looks up at me before she shifts her gaze to Stevie. “I can’t wait to hear that.”
Ninety minutes later, I take the stairs two at a time as I rush back to Astrid after tucking my daughter into bed.
Stevie insisted on telling Astrid a bedtime story, but by the time she had chosen a stuffed animal to sleep with, her eyelids were closing.
Astrid popped her head into Stevie’s bedroom as she was crawling under the covers.
Her promise to wait for me in the living room regardless of how much time I needed with my daughter was reassuring.
Stevie didn’t last more than five minutes before she was lightly snoring, so I kissed her cheek and quietly shut her bedroom door.
Astrid turns to face me from where she’s standing near the fireplace. “That was fast.”
I laugh. “I think the excitement of the day caught up to her. Any other night and I’d be camped next to her on the bed listening to her weave a tall tale about a whale or a dolphin.”
Astrid’s fingers skim over her neck. “I saw her necklace. It’s adorable that she has the diary key next to the dolphin pendant.”
“She writes about Dallas in that diary,” I say with a smile.
“The city in Texas?” She questions with a perk of her left eyebrow.
Chuckling, I move closer to her. “It’s a boy.”
“Oh.” A smile trails over her lips. “Her first crush?”
I stop as soon as I’m close enough that I can reach out to grab her hand. “It might be.”
“Why do I sense you’re not ready for that?”
I let out a laugh. “Is it that obvious?”
She squeezes my hand. “I had my first crush on a boy when I was around her age.”
Curiosity drives the next question out of me. “What was his name?”
Her gaze wanders over my shoulder to a bookshelf in the corner. “Davey.”
“What was Davey like?”
Her smile widens. “Short, blond, and if I recall, he was super smart. He helped me with my homework, and in return, I gave him a…”