Page 17 of When We Were More (Aron Falls #1)

T illie

My neck hurts like a bunch of those miniature-sized monkeys took their spindly little hands and twisted my muscles into knots.

I’m so tight that all I want is to soak in a hot bath, let the heat work out these kinks, and melt the day off me.

I climb the old wooden steps of the porch, and each time I have to lift a leg, it feels like a major feat.

When I finally make it, I eye the handle of the screen door like it’s a finish line.

“You’re pretty. Like a princess!”

I nearly jump out of my skin. Shit. I stop myself before I swear in front of the adorable curly-haired little girl sitting on my porch swing, kicking her legs back and forth and smiling at me with a grin that’s missing a few teeth. She giggles, and I swear the sound makes my heart smile.

I stare, wondering if I’m hallucinating. There are no children anywhere near this house. Hell, there are no adults near either, except those who live or work here. Still, she’s tiny and looks harmless. So, even if she’s a ghost, she’s a cute one.

Before I can say anything else, she jumps down off the swing, walks over to me, and extends a mittened hand to me.

“Hi. I’m Layla. I’m almost six.”

She tilts her head, and I take her hand and shake it.

“Hi,” I hesitate. “I’m Tillie. I’m not six. I’m way more than six.”

“That’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. My grandma says it’s rude to ask a lady how old she is. You’re also not supposed to ask them if there’s a baby in their belly.”

I can’t help but laugh when she says that. That’s the absolute worst thing for a woman—to have someone ask if you’re pregnant when you’re not.

“Well, it sounds like your grandma is very smart. I think both of those things are true.”

“Do you wanna come sit with me on the swing for a bit?”

“You’re not too cold out here?” She shakes her head. I guess it’s not too bad for late November.

The hope in her eyes makes me utterly unable to say no. With her energy, the little sprite has perked me up some. We walk over to the swing. She climbs up, and I sit next to her. I use my foot to rock us gently back and forth.

“Well, Layla—which is a very beautiful name, by the way—how did you get here? Are you lost?”

“Nope. My daddy works here.”

I’m not sure whether she’s talking about Tommy or Jay. I can’t tell from looking at her.

“Does your daddy know you’re here and not in school? That you’re outside?”

“Yep. I don’t have school because of Thanksgiving. Don’t tell anyone, but when Grandma makes us all say what we’re thankful for before she lets us eat turkey, that’s mine. I’m thankful I don’t have school.” There’s that grin again. I notice she’s missing two teeth.

I smile back at her. “That’s very clever. What about being outside? Your dad might be looking for you and worry if he can’t find you.”

“Nope. He told me I could sit outside as long as I stay on the porch, stay away from holes in the floor, and check in with him. Every hundred counts.”

“Wow. You can count to a hundred? That’s pretty cool.”

The praise earns me an adorable little smile. She tilts her head, then her eyes get big.

“Hey, are you visiting, too, or are you the lady that lives here? The one my dad said is pretty? I bet you’re her.”

I can’t help but laugh again. Kids cannot keep any secrets.

“Your daddy told you he thought I was pretty?”

“Well, he didn’t tell me. But I heard him when I was ‘sposed to be sleeping.” She pauses and looks up at me with seriousness in her eyes.

“It wasn’t my fault, though, because my uncle is loud and woke me.

Anyway, I didn’t go back to bed because my favorite uncle was there, and I wanted to see him.

I heard my daddy say you were pretty, and my uncle thinks you’re pretty, too.

Then my dad got mad at him and told him to stay away from you.

” She inhales. That was a lot of words at once for those little lungs.

I’m totally confused now. My face must show it because she takes her little hand and wraps it around mine.

“You okay? It’s good. You’re the princess, and all the princes want to pick you. Easy, see?”

She shrugs, then leans back against the swing as if that settles it.

She’s still holding my hand. We both should go inside, but for a minute, I simply rock with her, sitting in the quiet.

My eyes start to burn. This almost six-year-old just inadvertently voiced so simply what I’ve always wanted.

To be chosen. Though, I don’t need princes.

I only want people who should care about me to choose me.

I take a few deep breaths and clear my head. Right as I’m about to suggest we go inside, she gasps and leans forward.

“Tillie! We’re the same! My daddy wasn’t my first dad, but he picked me, and he’s my forever daddy. He picked me, and he picked you, and that means we’re the same.” The excitement in her voice is palpable.

This little girl has me confused as hell. Or maybe my brain isn’t registering because I’m overwhelmingly tired. I think it’s definitely time for us both to go inside.

“Ladybug? It’s been more than one hundred counts!”

I recognize Henry’s voice a split second before he steps out the door. But it isn’t until Layla jumps off the swing and answers him that everything connects.

“Sorry, Daddy. I was making friends with Tillie.”

I glance back and forth between them. Henry looks as shocked to see me as I am to see him right now.

“You’re early.”

“You have a daughter.”

“I have two. Daughters, I mean.”

I glance at his left hand, which doesn’t have a ring on it, and he notices. When I look back up at him, he frowns.

“I don’t have a wife.”

I notice Layla is looking at me. I suspect the ping-pong back and forth has her attention.

“It would be fine if you did. I’m your client. You’re my contractor.”

“No, we’re friends, remember?”

I shrug. “I’m not convinced about that. Friends usually have heard about their friend’s… immediate family tree members.” I glance at Layla.

He opens his mouth to reply, then closes it, then does it again, but never breaks eye contact. He grabs a fistful of hair, frustration in his eyes.

“You two are weird.” Thank God for kids and their uncanny ability to break up awkward moments. I smile down at her, and she takes my hand. Henry’s eyes flick to the movement.

“Daddy, I told Tillie that you and Uncle Holden both think she’s pretty.” Henry closes his eyes and takes a breath.

I kneel and grin at Layla.

“Holden? You didn’t say which uncle before, Layla. But I’ve met your Uncle Holden.” I say it with feigned interest, knowing it will annoy Henry. I’m right because a low growl emanates from him. Layla looks up at Henry with her brow furrowed.

“Daddy, why are you making bear noises, silly? Don’t worry, I already told Tillie you said Uncle Holden has to stay away from her.”

“Where did you hear that, ladybug? You were supposed to be in bed.”

“Um…” Layla glances at me for help.

I smirk. This little angel is one smart cookie. She’s clearly aware she already has me wrapped around her finger.

“Henry, it’s late afternoon, and I’m guessing Layla hasn’t eaten yet. Are you okay if I take her in the house for a snack?”

Henry looks back into the house through the door. “Uh. Well, sort of. I mean, we’re almost done putting everything back in your kitchen, and then we wanted to do a big reveal. Would you mind if she had her snack somewhere other than the kitchen, so you don’t see until we’re ready?”

I stand. Is he saying what I think he’s saying?

“You’ll be finished today? You’re ahead of schedule?” I’m still holding Layla’s hand, but it’s Henry I’m looking at now.

“Yep. Once you okayed the woodwork and cabinet refinish, things picked up. I finished that over the weekend. We worked all day to get it ready for Thanksgiving. In case you wanted to cook.”

There’s a lump in my throat, and my eyes moisten. “Thank you. Very much.” My voice cracks, and Henry’s eyes soften.

“Of course, Matilda. It’s our pleasure.”

We all go into the house, and Henry walks Layla and me to the family room. I tell him there are cheese sticks and grapes in the refrigerator for Layla’s snack, since I can’t go into the kitchen yet. He brings her a small plate and water back, and then, before he leaves, he turns to me.

“You sure you’re okay with her being in here? I don’t want you to feel like you have to watch her. She can sit in the kitchen.”

I appreciate him asking, but it’s unnecessary. “We’re fine. Get back to work.” My tone is light and teasing.

Thirty minutes later, Henry pops his head into the room. “We’re ready.”

Layla jumps up. “Yes! Let’s go.” I chuckle at her enthusiasm and stand. She walks toward the kitchen, then stops and turns back to us. “Wait. Don’t you have to make us blind, Daddy?”

Henry’s face is comical as he tries to hold in a laugh. “I think you mean blindfolded, Layla. Not blind. But we’ll be okay if Tillie closes her eyes. You don’t have to since you’ve already seen the kitchen.”

Her eyes narrow, and her jaw drops. She looks thoroughly offended. “It wasn’t done when I saw it. I need to be surprised, too.”

Henry put his hands up in front of him, palms facing Layla. “Okay. My mistake, ladybug. You can both close your eyes.”

“Perfect. Now we’ll close our eyes, and you hold Tillie’s hand, and she’ll hold mine, and you can get us there without us falling.”

We do as she says because, well, it’s clear she’s in charge here. As Henry’s hand takes mine, I try not to focus on how nice it is to have his rough, much larger hand wrapped around mine.

I remind myself he’s my new friend, that’s it. I don’t want more, either.

When we get to the kitchen, Henry positions us where he wants us and releases my hand. Layla and I keep ours clasped.

“Open your eyes on three, ladies. One. Two. Three!”