Page 132 of Power Move

The voice soundedsomuch like Davey’s. As a chubby, smiling baby came into view, I realized it was his father. Daphne, sat up proudly in the comfort of a tiny living room, smiling.

“Davey! No!” I heard Danna’s voice sharply call.

A child rushed over, dragging a laundry basket filled with stuffed animals. Daphne fell over, but didn’t cry, and stared at the toddler, confused.

“Davey, don’t run in the house,” the voice said. “You knocked Daphne over.”

“Daddy, I wasn’trunning,” a pint-sized, argumentative Davey replied. “I was stalking. We’re on a hunt.”

“What is that accent?” I laughed.

“Right?” Daphne giggled. “Oh, all of these old videos, it’s very lost-in-the-Atlantic.”

“He was so adorable,” I said. “Oh my God.”

“Well, let’s calm down,” David, Sr. said.

“Can I put the baby in here?”

“If you won’t run,” his father answered. “You have to be calm and if she tries to stand up, we will take her out.”

“David!” Danna said.

“Hold this.”

He handed his wife the camera and stepped into view. Davey’s build was a spitting image of his father’s. He ducked, picking Daphne up and plopping her into the basket.

“There,” he declared. “Calmly. And no stairs.”

“That is the difference between your first and second kid,” a voice spoke behind us.

I turned. Davey, tears in his eyes, watched. Danna stood to his right, looking overcome. Davey locked eyes with me, hovered over the couch, and kneaded my shoulders.

I looked up. “Your accent was adorable.”

“Maybe we should move back?” Davey joked, wiping away tears.

“Oh God, you two were too much for that house,” Dannasaid. “We had the tiniest cottage I’d ever seen when Daphne was a baby. Your father must have deployed about a month after this—I swear—and I went back to London a day later.”

“He missed a lot, then,” Daphne said.

“He did,” Danna agreed. “He hated it. With David, he was around more. With you, the timing didn’t work out so well. It’s probably why he always spoiled you so much—he had to make up for it.”

Tears hit. I started sobbing. I didn’t know why or how, but I cried.

“Hey, are you okay?” Davey rushed to sit by me.

“I just… I miss my parents. I cannot help but worry about how much they will miss if?—”

“Shh… Davey interrupted. “They will come back around.”

“I need to see them,” I said.

“Someday soon. We’ll make plans,” Davey said.

And by some miracle, I believed him.

Davey