Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 121992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
We ended up in the bakery aisle—of course, because I was in charge—so I could spoil Saylor with a cookie. There was a bit of a line. At one point, the woman next to me looked down at Saylor and said, “She’s adorable. Such a pretty little girl.”
“Thank you.” I smiled.
I realized the woman had very likely assumed Saylor was my daughter. And I’d essentially taken credit for Saylor’s beauty. I took a few seconds to marinate in that feeling. In this stranger’s eyes, I was a mother. Saylor was my daughter, safe with me. Life was simple. And I truly wished that were the case, that we could go home tonight and sleep soundly without a worry in the world. An overwhelming feeling of longing came over me.
The moment was interrupted when we finally reached the front of the line.
“What can I get you?” the attendant asked.
I let Saylor choose what she wanted. She pointed to the last giant chocolate chip cookie left in the display case.
“We’ll take the gargantuan cookie,” I said.
It had to have been at least six inches in diameter. After the woman wrapped it in tissue paper and handed it to Saylor, the toddler behind us suddenly started crying.
Saylor’s joyous expression faded as she looked over at the girl.
“Is she okay?” I asked the girl’s mother.
“I’m sorry. Unfortunately, she’s not. She had been waiting for that cookie. She always gets it when we come here, which thankfully isn’t all that often. She calls it ‘big cookie’. It’s the reason we came to the market today. I’d promised her if she tolerated her haircut, I’d get it for her.”
Aw, damn. I turned to Saylor. “Sweetie, do you think you might be able to share half of your cookie with this little girl? She’s sad because we got the last one.”
To my surprise, Saylor handed over the entire cookie. “Here you go. Don’t cry.”
My heart clenched, not just because of how cute that was, but because Saylor’s eyes were also watering. What a little empath. An amazing human.
“That’s very nice of you,” the woman said. “But you should take half.”
Saylor shook her head. “She can have it.”
“Wow. Thank you,” she said. She smiled over at me. “That’s some kid you have there.”
“I know,” I said without hesitation.
She turned to her daughter. “Say thank you, Elena.”
“Thank you!” The sniffling girl grinned, her cheeks still wet with tears.
Saylor waved goodbye, and the girl waved back.
After they left, we got back in line to get Saylor a cupcake. I kept thinking about how sweet she was to insist on giving the girl not half, but her entire cookie. Saylor’s generosity was a testament to her kind spirit, and certainly a result of having a father who raised her right because he set his own good example. Colby, too, was the kind of man who would give the shirt off his back to a stranger. He’d also go to the ends of the Earth for the people he loved.
We got to the front of the line again, and I ordered Saylor’s new treat.
Saylor took a giant bite of the cupcake and got pink frosting all over her nose. I couldn’t get enough of her cuteness.
I knew my attachment to Saylor was in direct correlation to my falling in love with her father. After all, Saylor was an extension of Colby. I truly cared for them both.
And then my handsome man appeared, wheeling a cart filled to the top. So much for coming to grab a few things. “There you are.” He grinned. “I thought I’d lost you.”
“Never.” I winked.
He kissed me on the cheek and looked down at my cart. “Some nice healthy choices there.”
“Well, my boyfriend is due to make me some spinach brownies so I can eat better.” I wrapped my arm around his waist. “Wait until I tell you what your little sweetie pie did.”
I recounted the cookie story for Colby as we walked to the checkout line. He was very proud of his daughter.
We returned to Colby’s apartment and hung out together until dinnertime. Even though we ended up enjoying the fajitas he prepared, the mood had definitely darkened. My feeling from earlier that reality was seeping in felt stronger than ever. Colby, in particular, looked lost in thought as we finished our meal.
I offered to give Saylor a bath while he cleaned up.
When Saylor went to her room afterward to play for a bit before bedtime, I found Colby in the kitchen and wrapped my arms around him from the back. “Talk to me. I can tell you’re drowning in your head tonight.”
He leaned both of his arms against the counter and exhaled. After a few seconds of silence, he finally turned to look at me.
“What if she gets deported and can somehow take Saylor out of the country with her? I’d die, Billie.”