"Daddy!" The little girl tore through the front yard, her brown curly hair bouncing with each step.
"Coralie, the flowers!" I shouted through the open window, watching her sprint through the flower bed I had worked so hard on. I watched as Trevor slammed the door of his Bodhi behind him, catching the small girl as she hurled herself into his arms.
"Hey, angel!" He laughed, hoisting her up onto his hip, and headed toward the front door. I reached out my right hand as he stepped inside, pulling his face towards mine, and planted a kiss on his lips.
"Daddy, I made a painting!" Coralie told Trevor, practically vibrating with excitement as he put her down in front of him.
"You did?!" He cooed, poking her nose gently. I watched as she grabbed his hand, pulling him into the living room to show him her artwork. I watched from the kitchen as she handed him her painting.
"It smells amazing in here, gorgeous," Trevor told me.
I smiled at him as I set the table, and began plating up the grilled chicken and vegetables I had just finished making. Trevor stepped into the kitchen, helping me pour drinks for the three of us.
"Michael called, he said he'd be stopping by later." I told him, sitting down across from him at the table. Coralie sat on her knees in her chair as she began chewing on a bite of chicken.
"What's that fat fu-" Trevor stopped, noticing the little girl looking up at him with wide eyes, and started his sentence over, "What's he want?"
"I think he's got a birthday present for someone," I said in a singsongy voice, smiling at Coralie. She grinned, dancing around in her seat.
"I'm gonna be six!" She exclaimed, and began chattering on about how she was 'practically a grown up.'
"You know, big girls always eat their vegetables," Trevor spoke up, watching her push a bit of steamed broccoli around her plate.
She scrunched up her freckled nose, staring down at her plate. "Noooo," she whined.
"Three more bites." I tried to make a deal with her. She heaved a sigh, and begrudgingly bit into the piece of broccoli she had been playing with. She grimaced, dropping her fork onto her plate.
"It's bad! I don't want any more!" She complained.
I held up two fingers, looking at her plate and then back to her. "Two more bites."
She groaned, placing her head in her hands. "Fuck," she muttered.
Trevor snorted, stifling a laugh. I gasped, clasping a hand over my mouth. "Coralie, we do not use that word," I scolded. Trevor snickered, no longer able to hide his amusement. "It's not funny, Trev! She learned it from you!" I narrowed my eyes at him.
He straightened out, trying to look serious, and told Coralie, "Mommy is right, sweetheart, you shouldn't talk like that." I cleared my throat, looking at him expectantly, and he continued, "And neither should I."
I patted him on the shoulder as I passed by him, bringing dishes into the kitchen. He stood up, and I could hear him speaking in hushed tones to Coralie, "One more bite and we'll tell mommy it was two."
"I heard that!" I jumped in, waving Trevor into the kitchen to help me clean up.
"I'm done, mommy, can I go outside and play?" Coralie bounded toward the front door, scaring the cat, who went sprinting upstairs.
"Just for a little while, honey, it's almost dark," I told her. Trevor smacked my behind with the dish towel he had just been using to dry dishes, and came up close behind me. He pushed my hair over one shoulder and planted a few rough, stubbly kisses on the back of my neck. "I missed you in bed this morning," I hummed.
"I bet you did." Trevor wiggled his eyebrows up and down at me, smacking my behind again, this time with the palm of his hand.
"You know what I meant." I turned to look at him. He placed his hands on my hips, pulling me in for a kiss.
"So," he began, "How had Coralie been today?"
"Absolutely crazy, as she usually is."
"Just like her mother," he teased me.
"Sure, I'm the crazy one," I laughed. I patted his cheek, pretending to slap him in faux anger.
"Well, I'm certainly not the crazy one. I was perfectly sane; living a boring, monotonous life, until you came along, that is." He pointed a finger at me, wiggling it around in my face. "What a lunatic, you are. Slowly turning my life into chaos."
I scrunched my nose at him and he chuckled, "I swear, you girls are gonna be the death of me. I need another guy around here."
Right on cue, Coralie came barreling through the front door, pulling Michael along by the hand.
"Can't believe this one is about to be six," Michael said, pointing at her.
"Can't believe you somehow look even worse than the last time I saw you," Trevor teased him. Michael ignored his comment, pulling him in for a half hug and patting him on the back. I noticed Michael was carrying a rectangular object wrapped in pink glittery paper and purple ribbons.
Apparently Coralie had noticed well before I had, because her eyes were fixated on the shiny object, and she whined, "Uncle Mike, can I pleeease open my present?"
He looked down at her and teased, "Who said this was for you?" She furrowed her brow and crossed her arms, not finding his joke very funny. She looked just like Trevor when she was angry. It was uncanny, really. He chuckled and handed her the box, adding in, "That's from Aunt Amanda and Tracey and Jimmy too, alright?"
"How are they doing, Michael?" I spoke up, watching Coralie tear open her gift.
"Ah, they're just great. Tracey just graduated college, can you believe it?"
"That's great news! I'm so glad to see you all doing well," I told him.
"It looks like me!" Coralie shouted, holding up a new doll who resembled her, with caramel eyes and a head full of brown curls. She leapt off the couch, tackling Michael in a hug, and exclaimed, "Thank you Uncle Mike!"
"That was nice of you, Mikey, thanks," Trevor said graciously. We watched Coralie sit down on the living room floor, introducing her new doll to her collection.
"Ah, it's nothin', T. Listen, I'm just glad you're happy. Never thought I'd see this; you getting married and havin' a kid and all. Unbelievable, really." He looked over at me, shaking his head. "I don't know how you did this, Jane, but it's great. Never seen him happier."
I couldn't hold back my smile as I wrapped my arms around Trevor's waist and pulled him close to me. He rested a hand on my shoulder and shifted his attention to Coralie, who was sitting on the floor, playing with her new doll.
"Sweetheart," Trevor spoke up, trying to get the little girl's attention, "Why don't you go put on your PJs?" She did as she was asked, barreling up the stairs; how such a little girl could make so much noise was beyond me.
"So," Trevor began, speaking quietly, "We gotta talk about this score comin' up."
Michael nodded in agreement, and they retreated to the living room couch to speak in hushed tones, planning out every move of their next score. I didn't love that Trevor was still willingly putting himself in danger with a child in the picture, but he was always careful to avoid anything being traced back to us. Still, even though he seemed invincible after years of crime and rage-induced fights, there was always a lingering fear of becoming a single mother, not to mention a widow. I tried not to listen to what they were saying as I finished putting away the dishes.
"I'm ready for bed!" Coralie announced as she sprinted back down the stairs. Trevor gestured for Coralie to come sit on his lap, and Michael stood up, putting his jacket back on.
"Take care of yourself, Michael," I told him, giving him a friendly hug.
"You too, Jane. And watch out for this one, he's bad news," he chuckled, pointing at Trevor. Trevor scowled at him, clearly not amused.
"I'll put you in the ground, Mikey," he responded calmly, leaning back into the couch cushions. Michael dismissed his comment with a wave and an eye roll.
"See ya Thursday, T."
We watched as Michael let himself out, trudging down the front steps and out to his car.
"Time to put this one to bed," Trevor spoke up, ruffling Coralie's hair.
"I've already read you two books, peanut, you gotta go to sleep!" Trevor poked Coralie on the nose.
"One more, daddy! Please?" She begged, jumping out of bed and running to her bookshelf. He let out a defeated sigh as he watched her pull another picture book off the shelf.
"One more," he told her as he took the book from her hands. I watched from the doorway as he opened the front cover, and began reading to the little girl. She sat curled up beside him, head resting against his shoulder, and her eyelids grew heavier with each page turn.
"She's asleep, love," I spoke softly, gesturing at Coralie. Trevor looked down at the small girl, fast asleep in her pink pajamas spattered with little yellow ducks, and dark brown curls falling over her eyes. He slowly wriggled his shoulder out from under her head, laying her down on her pillow when she stirred. He pulled the blankets up over her, and I watched as he gently stroked her hair, pushing her little brown curls out of her face.
"Goodnight daddy," she mumbled, half asleep.
"Goodnight, angel, I love you," he whispered. I took him by the hand and led him out of the room, shutting off the light on the way out.
"Hard to believe that little one is about to be six," I told Trevor as I sat at the end of our bed, changing into my pajamas.
"I feel like I was just holding her in the hospital," he agreed.
"Trevor," I looked up at him as he pulled his shirt off over his head, "Are you happy? Like really happy?"
"Ah, gorgeous, are you kiddin' me?" He put a hand up to the side of my face and smiled down at me. "I am in heaven. I got you, and I got that little beauty in the other room. I got a wife and a kid and a house. This is everything that I thought I'd never get. I was fine with that until I met you. You have given me everything in my life worth havin'. Whatcha think, I wanna go back to livin' in my trailer in Sandy Shores? Like hell I do."
"I love you," I whispered to him. His lips caught mine in a tender kiss.
"I love you, too, cupcake."