Daniel sat propped up in bed, trying to help with hands that wouldn’t stop shaking.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he told her. “Daddy’s not much good at braids anymore.”
“Give me that,” I said, and I had the brush before I’d decided anything.
Lily held perfectly still, like I might change my mind. I braided her hair tight and neat. When I finished, she touched it with both hands.
“Give me that,”
“Too tight?”
“No. Just right.” She smiled.
That was all it was. I had no idea how much it meant to her. I only knew she’d moved into my heart by lunchtime.
More days followed. I braided. I smuggled her granola bars. I checked her spelling words while Daniel slept off chemo.
She’d moved into my heart
Before long, she was sitting in my lap during his treatments, and I let her.
***
Daniel was harder to read. He’d watch me across the room with a strange look, like I was a word on the tip of his tongue.
“What?” I asked him once.
“Nothing.” He smiled. “Gratitude. And the morphine.”
I thought he was a dying father relieved that somebody cared about his little girl.
Daniel was harder to read.
The two of us got close, too.
Tea at odd hours. Long talks. One evening I told him about my husband and Josie. Not the whole accident, because I never tell that part. But enough.
His eyes filled, and he turned toward the window.
“Sorry,” he said. “It’s just… I… that’s a lot to hear as a father.”
***
As he got weaker, the three of us started to look like a family. Then one afternoon, while Lily was at school, Daniel took my hand.
The two of us got close
“Marry me.”
