“YOU GIRLS ALL packed and ready to go?”

My baby girl, Willow, comes bounding down the stairs, her blonde ringlets bouncing with each step. “I tan’t wait to get on the big ship, Daddy!” At three years old, she still looks at me like I hung the moon.

“I can’t believe you’re making me go on this trip without Savana.” As for this one, and her teenage drama, it seems nothing I ever do is good enough.

“It’s a family vacation, Evangeline. Savana is not a part of this family.”

“She’s close enough.” Her big emerald eyes—her mother’s eyes—roll up in her head as she twirls a lock of auburn hair around her pointer finger.

“Our family consists of you, me, and Willow.”

“Yeah, well, this family stinks. So, there! If Mom were still alive, she’d understand. She’d let me bring a friend, or at the very least my phone!”

A knot forms right in the center of my chest. I try not to sound exasperated with her when I clear my throat and reply. “Well, we don’t know what your mother would do, honey, because she’s not here anymore, and I’m doing the best I can.”

“How is taking me away from my best friend and cutting me off from the rest of the world for seven whole days the best you can do, Dad?” Her eyes well up, her frustration threatening to spill over.

Times like this I really miss my wife. She would know what to do. How to handle the hormonal mess that is our daughter. Wrapping my arm around Vangie’s stiff shoulders, I pull her close and kiss the top of her head. “It’s one week, baby girl. It’s not the end of the world, I promise. Now get your things and try not to be miserable, huh?”

§

“Isn’t this nice?” I nudge Evangeline with my elbow, smiling down at her as we watch the ship leave the dock from the deck of our balcony suite.

My daughter shrugs her shoulders, but I catch a hint of a smile out of the corner of my eye, and I know that she’s already beginning to get over her upset.

“You look just like her at your age, you know?” The words slip out of my mouth without thought. I try not to mention her too often, but in reality, I probably don’t talk about her enough.

At that she smiles. “I miss her so much, Daddy.”

I thought that losing Jessica would be the hardest thing I’d ever have to endure, but I was wrong. It’s watching my girls grow up without her that kills me a little more each day. And it’s hardest with Evangeline, because she was old enough to know everything she lost. “I do, too, Vange.”

“I’m sorry I was being a brat before we left,” she offers, cuddling into my side.

“Meh, don’t worry about it…I’m used to it.”

She lets out an indignant squeal, and all is right in my world. Or as right as it can be without our missing piece.

§

“Time to party, people,” our cruise director Stan shouts, clapping the mic in his hands as he stands on the stage in the center of the main deck.

“Why dat man wearin’ a skirt?” Willow giggles.

“It’s called a kilt,” her sister snaps with a roll of her eyes.

“Well, why dat man wearin’ a tilt?”

“It’s a boy skirt,” I whisper into my little girl’s ear.

“In Scotland,” Vangie starts, before realizing it’s too difficult to explain to a toddler, “never mind.”

“Come on,” I say, lifting Willow up onto my shoulders and moving toward the dance floor before Evangeline has the chance to refuse. There’s no way she’ll stay back alone. “Time for some line dancing!”

“Oh, my God, Dad. Since when do you line dance?”

Looking back over my shoulder, I smirk at the look of annoyance on her face. “Since right now.”

Vangie falls in line beside me, dancing like a pro while I stumble through the moves. “This is so embarrassing,” she complains, but her beaming face tells a different story.

“Lighten up. No one here knows you. There’s freedom in anonymity. Enjoy it.”

I can’t believe the things I replace myself doing just to see these girls smile.

Tip: You can use left, right keyboard keys to browse between chapters.Tap the middle of the screen to reveal Reading Options.

If you replace any errors (non-standard content, ads redirect, broken links, etc..), Please let us know so we can fix it as soon as possible.

Report