“Did you find anyone you like? If not, I can—”
Dorothy places her hand on my arm. “I did. Thank you.”
“Happy to help.”
She’s spent the past five years raising my daughter. It’s the least I can do.
Amelia stands between us, bouncing.
“Everything okay?” I ask with a laugh.
“Can we go now? Grandma said you made me my own room.”
“I did.” It hadn’t dawned on me until now that Amelia didn’t have her own room here. Dorothy’s apartment was small, with only one bedroom. While she did her best and got Amelia her own bed, they still shared a room. The big space all to herself must be hugely exciting.
Amelia hugs her grandmother tightly before placing her hand in mine. We wave to Dorothy before heading to my car.
“Are you excited?” she asks. “I am. I can’t wait.”
She continues to chat the entire way back to my house. I do my best to answer her questions, but rarely does she let me get a word edgewise. Not that I mind. I love listening to her. That sweet voice, the innocent questions. After the gruff, rough-around-the-edges guys I’ve dealt with for the past ten years, I find it oddly refreshing.
“Here we are,” I tell her as we pull into the driveway.
She’s been here once before, but I don’t know if she really took it all in.
“Wow,” she says as she slowly steps out of the car. I watch as she takes in her surroundings, her mouth hung open, eyes wide. She’s completely awestruck.
“Come on,” I urge her. “Let’s go inside.”
We make our way inside, and Amelia’s head turns from side to side as though she’s taking everything in for the first time. Maybe she is. She really didn’t do or say much while they were here, and her eyes had been trained on the floor most of the time. Though something tells me she’ll be able to find the kitchen—and the stash of cookies—with no problem.
“Your room is upstairs, first door on the left.” Her eyes fill with excitement as she looks to me for permission. “Go for it.”
Amelia bounds up the stairs and bursts through the door to what I assume is her room based on her excited squeals. Thanks to Charlie, the once drab space is now a princess’ oasis.
“This is mine?” She runs into the room and jumps on the queen size bed. The castle-covered comforter shifts under her feet, causing her to fall. The sounds of her giggles fill the room—and my heart. She hops down from the bed to rummage through the toys that fill the room. Standing in the doorway, I watch her run from thing to thing, bouncing on the bed and jumping right off. “This is so cool.”
“I’m glad you like it.” I set the small suitcase Dorothy sent with her on the bed—just some of her favorite things so she would feel at home. By the looks of it, she already does.
When she’s finally done inspecting every square inch of the room, she opens her suitcase and removes a few items. She sets a picture of her and Dorothy right next to her bed and a small, very beat-up stuffed animal directly in the center of the bed.
“Who’s that?”
She lifts the animal and extends it to me. “This is Mr. Wiggles.”
“Mr. Wiggles, huh?”
She nods affirmatively. “He’s my best friend. Grandma got him for me.”
“What else do you have in there?” I head to her bed and take a seat, peeking into her suitcase.
“Not much, just some Barbies and a couple books.”
When she’s done situating everything, she walks up to me and stares. Unsure of what to do or where to go from here, I offer dinner.
“Are we having McDonald’s?” The excitement in her voice rises.
“No.”