"Daddy, what are you doing?"
Six-year-old Maddie was standing in the doorway of Tony's office, dressed in her favorite Little Mermaid pajamas.
"Just some paperwork, sweetheart." He pulled his glasses off and set them on his desk, rubbing his eyes. "C'mere."
She obeyed and he lifted her up onto his lap. "What's Mom doing?"
"Anth's helping her give Mason a bath."
"Ah. You didn't want to?"
His daughter made a face. "He splashed me last time. I didn't like it."
Tony chuckled, eying the paper she was holding delicately in her hand. "Whatcha got there?"
"My drawing," she said proudly. "Wanna see?"
"You know I do."
She laid the picture down on the desk, watching her father's face expectantly.
He felt himself relax a little just by being in her presence, thoughts of everything he had to have done for the morning pushed temporarily to the back of his mind. Her artwork only further lightened his mood as his eyes scanned over the page. The Almeida family was represented in full fairytale form, each of them sporting crowns and other royal attire with a unicorn or two frolicking in the background. "Woooow. Look at that."
She smiled, clearly pleased with herself while he was struggling not to laugh out loud at the little soul patch she'd drawn on his chin and the volume of curls on her mother and older brother's heads. The beauty was in the details.
She pointed to the little figure second from the end of the row. "That's me; I'm the princess. And that means you and Mommy are the king and queen. Mommy is the prettiest queen of them all, and you're the bravest king there ever was. And Anthy's a prince. So is Mase. But when I grow up I'll find my own prince, and then we'll get married and we'll be the king and queen."
He had to work to hide his amusement. "Is that right?"
"Mhm. And this is our castle." She pointed to the tall, towered building. "It's purple 'cause purple's my favorite." She paused, a thoughtful look in her eyes as if she was trying to remember something important. "What's your favorite color?"
"Blue," he said automatically. Ever since he was a little boy it had been blue.
"I like blue, too. Anthy's favorite is red. I don't think Mase has a favorite. But Mommy's is purple, too, right?"
"Yeah, I think you're right." Glancing at the clock and realizing it was almost time to tuck her in, he got up from the chair, lifting her up with him.
She yawned and wrapped her little arms around his neck. "Know what?"
"What?"
"I wanna be just like Mommy when I grow up. Know why?"
He couldn't stop the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Why?"
"'Cause she's the most beautifulest and the bravest and the smartest. Know what else?"
"What's that?"
"I want my prince to be just. like. you." Her finger tapped his nose as she exaggerated each word. "Because you're very handsome—that's what Mommy says 'cause boys can't be pretty—and strong and funny."
He grinned. His little girl was terrible for his ego. "I'm funny, am I?"
She giggled. "Yes. Very funny."
"So you and this prince of yours are just gonna ride off into the sunset, is that how it works?"
She giggled again, shrugging. "I don't know!"
"You know, I'm not sure how I feel about that."
She looked at him quizzically as he stroked her fine, dark hair. "How come?"
"I think I'll miss my princess too much."
"No." She shook her head quickly. "No, you won't hafta miss me 'cause I'll come visit you. I'll visit all the time so you and Mommy don't get lonely."
She said it so innocently, but the depth of her sincerity caused his heart to thud in his chest a little as he kissed the top of her head. "Thanks, baby girl."
"De nada."
He stopped at the door to her bedroom, staring at her in astonishment. "Where did that come from?"
"Dora says that means 'you're welcome'," she explained nonchalantly. "Did I say it wrong?"
He laughed as he carried her to her bed and pulled back the covers. "No, sweetheart, you said it perfect. What else did Dora teach you?"
"I can count to five," she bragged, holding up one hand and wiggling her fingers for emphasis. He eased her down and pulled the blankets over her as he sat perched on the edge of the small bed. "And I can say 'gracias'."
He bit his lip. "So you like Spanish, huh?"
She nodded, looking up at him with those dark, almond-shaped eyes of hers.
"A'right, well..." He scratched habitually at his right cheek. "What if I taught you some more? Would you like that?"
Her eyebrows furrowed slightly. "You can teach me Spanish?"
"Yeah. Yeah, if ya want."
"Okay," she agreed through another sleepy yawn. "Tomorrow?"
"Sure. Every day if you want to. But tonight it's time to sleep." He pecked her cheek. "Do I get a goodnight kiss?"
She stretched over to plant one on his cheek, squealing when he rubbed it against her own. "You're prickly!"
He snickered, pulling the quilt back over her. "Come on, lie down. Do you want your night light on?"
"Yes, please." He plugged it in and turned out the lights before hearing, "Daddy, wait, come back here."
He went over and knelt by her bed, squinting to see her in the semi-darkness. "I'm right here."
She got up on her knees and flung her arms around his neck, squeezing as tight as she could. "Love you, Daddy. Night-night."
She was out almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, and he watched her drift off before bending down to kiss her forehead.
"Buenas noches, princesa."