She shakes her head. “I’m six,” she tells me, like I should have known better. Her sass reminds me so much of Short Stack. It could be because Lilah is her mini-me. She’s tiny, with Saylor’s hair and eyes. A mini replica right down to her smile.
“Right,” I agree. “Well, an anniversary is where you count the years that something has happened. Sixteen years ago, your mommy and I got married.”
She nods. “Mommy said you’re her Prince Charmi
ng just like in the movies.”
I can’t contain my smile. “That’s right. And you and your sisters should never settle for anything less than your own Prince Charming,” I tell her. Saylor tells me I’m setting their expectations too high. My answer is always the same. “Good. I want them to be.” Our girls deserve men who will sweep them off their feet. Sure, I kid about them never getting married, but I know that’s not reality. I work hard to show them, and my son, how a man should treat a woman.
“Whiskey!” Saylor calls up the steps. “We gotta go.”
“Be right there!” I call back. “We have to hurry,” I whisper excitedly, and my baby girl feeds off my enthusiasm, just as I hoped she would. Her tears forgotten. “I’m taking Mommy somewhere special for our anniversary,” I tell her. It’s not a lie. I am. But Saylor knows we’re taking a trip. She just doesn’t know where. When Lilah spills the beans, like I know she will, Saylor will go along with it, and not think anything of it. I hope. “It’s our secret, okay?”
She makes a production of zipping her lips and throwing away the key. “I won’t say anyfing,” she mumbles, making me laugh.
“Thank you. Now, we better get downstairs. You have a big day planned with Mommy.”
She nods and jumps off my lap. She makes it halfway to the door before she stops and turns to face me. “Love you, Daddy.” She gives me a toothless grin, and rushes downstairs.
My heart swells with love for her, for all of them. I stand from her pink princess bed, and make my way downstairs. Lilah is sitting at the counter, kicking her feet and spinning in her chair. “Hey, you, you need to settle down and eat so you can get on the road.”
She turns to face me. There’s a half-eaten piece of cinnamon toast in her hand, and the other half is on her face. “I’m eating, Daddy.” She holds up her toast to prove her point.
“I see that.” I run my hands over her baby-soft hair and kiss the top of her head. Making my way around the counter, I do the same to Nora. “Where are your brother and sister?” I ask her.
“In the car. Bye, Dad.” She hops off her stool and rushes out to the garage.
“Bye, Dad,” Lilah says, mimicking her older sister. She climbs down off the stool, her legs not quite long enough to do otherwise. She really is just like her momma.
“Not so fast, missy,” Saylor calls after her. “Come here and clean up.” Saylor already has a wet towel in her grip and helps her wipe her face and hands. Lilah moans and complains the entire time.
“Bye, Dad,” she says again, and rushes out to the garage.
“Finally,” I say dramatically, pulling my wife into my arms. “I thought they would never leave.” I press my lips against hers.
“When has that ever stopped you?” She laughs against my lips.
“Oh, Short Stack,” I tease. “Don’t you know by now that nothing will stop me when it comes to you?” My tongue slides past her lips as I pull her closer, fusing her body with mine. My hand slides behind her neck, angling her mouth to deepen the kiss. Leisurely, I stroke my tongue against hers, relishing the feel of her in my arms.
“Gross,” Gracie says, breaking the haze that we’re in. It’s been sixteen years, and this woman still brings me to my knees. “Mom.” She huffs. “We’re going to be late.”
Saylor and I laugh as we pull apart. Glancing over my wife’s shoulder, I see our firstborn daughter looking so much like a young woman that I want to lock her in this house and throw away the key. “What if it was one of the others?” she asks, her arms crossing over her chest and a firm expression on her face.
“I have no shame in anyone seeing how much I love your mother,” I tell her.
“And you wonder why when I have friends over we stay in the basement,” she mutters.
“Come here.” I keep one arm around my wife and hold the other out for Gracie. She rolls her brown eyes, the deep orbs that mirror my own, and takes one step then another until I have her and her mother both in my arms. “Love you,” I tell them.
“Love you too,” they chorus.
“Mom, we’re going to be late,” Gracie says, pulling out of my hold.
“I’ll be right there.” Saylor turns to me. “Have a good day, Whiskey.” Going on her tiptoes, she presses a quick kiss to my lips. Once she pulls away, she grabs her purse and phone, and follows Gracie out to the garage. The house is suddenly quiet. Too damn quiet without the chatter of my family. I finish cleaning up the kitchen and start the dishwasher before heading off to work.
2
Saylor