It was the closest thing to warmth she had ever given me.
I smiled again.
“Thank you.”
She looked past me toward the pool.
“Your father said there would be swimming.”
“There is.”
“Good.”
And that was it.
For the next two hours, everything was ordinary.
Until Rosalyn came out of the pool.
She wore a black one-piece swimsuit.
Her wet hair was pulled over one shoulder.
She walked toward the lounge chairs, completely unaware that my daughter had suddenly stopped running.
Paisley stared at her.
Not at her face.
Not at her swimsuit.
At her stomach.
Then Paisley raised one tiny finger.
“Mommy.”
I turned.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
Her expression changed.
She looked frightened.
Then she shouted:
“Daddy’s in there!”
The entire backyard erupted in laughter.
Someone actually choked on a drink.
My father laughed.
Trevor laughed.
Even Rosalyn smiled.
I laughed because everyone else was laughing.
