Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Ella held my hand, guiding it to draw a circle with my three fingers. “Wednesday,” she said as we looped the circle closed.
I tapped her nose with my finger. “How’d you get so smart?”
“From my daddy.”
I froze. What the—had Max told her? I thought we’d agreed it was best to wait a while, let her get to know me before we told her who I was. Or…maybe she referred to Aiden as her father. That thought made me feel sick.
“Your daddy?”
She nodded fast. “Mommy says I’m smart like my daddy.”
When she didn’t add any more, I thought it best to change the subject.
“So…it’s Wednesday.” I signed it, and apparently third time’s the charm because my performance earned me a big, toothy smile. “Do you do something special on Wednesday?”
She laughed at me again. “White. We wear white.” Ella twirled, showing off her outfit. She wore a white shirt with gold, sparkly letters that read Mermaid Life, coupled with a pair of white shorts. Her sandals were white, too.
“Oh.” I looked down at my clothes. I had on a pair of khakis and a navy polo. “I must’ve gotten my days mixed up.”
She scrunched up her button nose and began to tick off the days of the week with her little fingers. Her pointer was first. “Monday Magenta.” Middle finger. “Tuesday Turquoise.” Ring finger. “Wednesday White.”
I interrupted her by signing the word Wednesday and then winked. Her smile grew.
She kept going, ticking off through one hand and starting on the next. “Thursday Teal. Friday Fuchsia.” (Which she adorably pronounced foo-sha.) “Saturday Sage. Sunday Sapphire!” She slapped her hands down to her sides when she finished.
“You always dress a color to match the day?”
She nodded.
I really needed that fucking notebook.
“Which one is your favorite?”
“Sapphire! Blue, blue, blue!”
“Blue is my favorite color, too.” At least it was now after seeing how happy it made her. A thought popped into my head. “Do you remember Layla?”
She nodded.
“Her favorite color is rainbow.”
Ella cracked up. “Rainbow’s not a color!”
“Maybe not. But when you like a lot of them, why pick just one? Special girls can have any favorites they want.”
Max popped her head into the room. “Everything okay here?”
“Mommy, Mommy!” Ella jumped up and down. “My favorite color is rainbow!”
Max looked to me and smiled back down at her daughter. “It is, is it?”
“It’s Layla’s, too! We’re special so we can have more than one color as our favorite!”
Max’s smile wilted. “That’s nice, honey. Do you want your snack now?”
“Yes!” She jumped up and down, delivering her answer. Her energy glowed.
“I’ll make two plates.”
A few minutes later, Max returned with two small plates, one for each of us. Wednesday. White. Apple slices and peanut butter. Maybe I should’ve taken those notes in my phone.
We sat together on the floor in the living room, with our plates on the coffee table. While we were eating our apples, I noticed Ella was using her left hand to eat. “Which hand do you hold a crayon with, sweetheart?”
She raised her left hand.
“I write with my left, too. Most of the world writes with the other hand.”
“Mommy writes with a different hand.”
That’s because you take after your daddy.
When we were done with snack time, Ella asked if we could go for a walk. I had forgotten all about the stroller-trike I’d bought her. I’d left it in the vestibule when I came in. I collected our plates, and Ella and I went to look for her mother.
We found her in the kitchen, drinking a protein shake.
“Ella wants to go for a walk.”
“Oh, okay. You two have fun.”
Ella ran to her mom and tugged at her shirt. “You come, too, Mommy.”
Max’s eyes flashed to me. Ella first, I reminded myself. I gave her a silent nod.
“Okay. Let me get a sweater.”
While Max got her sweater, I showed Ella her new stroller-trike. She literally squealed. Then she took off running back to the living room. I watched from the hallway as she pulled open the end table drawer, picked something out of a box, and crammed it into an envelope. She sped back to me just as Max came back with her sweater.
Holding the envelope up to me, Ella said, “Thank you!”
Curious as to what the hell was going on, I slipped the card out of the envelope. It was a small note card with a silver Thank You printed on the front, and the inside was empty.
Max started to laugh. “Ella, honey, we’re supposed to fill those out before we give them to people.”
Ella frowned.
Max explained. “I don’t let her use the toys she gets as gifts until we write a thank you note.”
The kid was damn smart. And I didn’t need anything written. I knelt down to her. “My thank you card is perfect the way it is. You’re very welcome, Ella.”