EPOV

The second the plane touches down, I'm a man on a mission. I've only got one thing, one person, on my mind.

Marley.

I spent the entire flight clutching the Build-A-Bear box to my chest and ignoring the strange looks my seatmate kept sending my way.

As soon as the pilot thanks us for choosing his airline and turns the seatbelt light off, I'm on my feet, tucking Marley's present under one arm and using the other to grab my bag from the overhead bin.

"Thank you for fly—"

I speed walk to the baggage claim even though I didn't check a bag. It's a noisy nightmare of security guards, travelers, and suitcases, but I can still hear her voice, clear as day. I follow the sound and search for them in the crowd.

"Where is he, Uncle J?" Marley whines. "You said one more minute, but it's been forever."

"I said that thirty seconds ago, kid. Chill."

Marley huffs, and I finally spot them. She's bouncing on her tiptoes and tugging on his hand.

"Are you fibbing?" she asks. "'Cause it sounds like you're fibbing and—"

Jasper finally sees me waving and lifts Marley, pointing me out to her. "Look, Mars. There's Daddy."

Her face lights up, and she starts fighting against his hold and calling my name. "Daddy! Uncle J, put me down, please. Daddy! Over here! I'm over here!"

I swear at this moment, I'd easily break down a concrete wall if it stood between us. Fortunately for me, it's only a small group of businessmen. I ignore their complaints as I elbow my way through, dropping my things so I can catch her when she takes a flying leap.

"Daddy!" Marley squeals. "You're home."

I nod and pepper her little face with kisses. "I'm home, Muffin."

She pulls back, her blue eyes sparkling under the fluorescents and there's that toothless smile that I love so much.

"Did you miss me?"

"Are you crazy? Of course, I missed you."

Her smile turns into a playful scowl. "Good 'cause next time you go away, I'm coming with you."

I nod to my brother as he picks up the things I dropped in my excitement and turn back to my Marley.

"You are?" I ask, bouncing her on my hip.

"Uh-huh. I'm little enough to fit in your suitcase," she tells me matter-of-factly.

I chuckle. "You think so, Muffin?"

She rubs the side of my scruffy cheek and hums. "I know so. Uncle Em and I tried at his house and I fit."

Of course they did.

Jasper clears his throat and shakes the faded Build-A-Bear box.

"What's this?"

"This"—I pluck it out of his hands and pass it to Marley—"is Marley's present from Seattle. We'll open it when we get home."

Jasper opens his mouth to argue, but I stop him. "We'll be over at Mom and Dad's tomorrow. We'll talk then."

The drive home is filled with mindless Marley chatter. She peppers me with questions about my trip and guesses as to what is inside the box, and Jasper is just there to play cabbie.

When Mom found out I was coming home, she dropped groceries and dinner off, but neither of us feels like having chicken noodle casserole for dinner.

While we wait for our food to arrive, we sit on the front porch, and Marley is vibrating with excitement.

"Can I open it now, Daddy?" she asks without taking her eyes off the gift box.

"You can, but I'd like to tell you a little about it before you do."

She nods.

"You see how faded and soft the box is, Muffin?" I ask, taking her hand and running it over the cardboard. "It's old."

"How old, Daddy?"

"Almost six years," I explain. "Someone very special made this just for you a long time ago, but she wants you to have it now."

"Who?"

"A friend who will be here to celebrate your adoption day with us."

Marley's brow furrows in deep thought. "But I can have it now?"

I nod. "B— the woman who made it for you wanted you to have something special from my trip."

Marley carefully opens the box, her tongue sticking out of her mouth in concentration. If I close my eyes, I'm back in Seattle, sitting in a coffee shop, watching Bella book her trip with the same look of determination.

"Wow!" Marley breathes as she pulls the stuffed animal out. "So soft. So cute."

She hugs the dog to her chest, and I pull out my phone to snap a picture, knowing that the person who made it will appreciate the sentiment.

"What's her name, Daddy?" Marley asks.

"Hope, Muffin. Her name is Hope, and you need to remember to take really good care of her because she's special. Do you think you can do that?"

"I will take such good care of her, Daddy. I promise."

Dinner arrives and Marley ends up covered in more sweet and sour sauce than she consumed, so I set her up in the garden tub with half a bottle of bubble bath and The Little Mermaid soundtrack while I shave the scruff off my chin at her insistence. Because she doesn't like it when my face is all scratchy, and I had more important things to worry about besides shaving while I was in Seattle.

Marley is warbling through an impressive cover of "Kiss The Girl" when my phone goes off.

She's so beautiful, and I'm glad she likes Hope. Thank you for the picture. See you in four days.

My smile matches the emoticon tacked to the end of the text message.

~MM~

I'm tying the laces of my brand new dress shoes when Marley comes flying into the room.

"Daddy, guess what," she squeals.

"Chicken butt?"

She rolls her eyes and wiggles her hand in my face. "I'm one whole hand now."

I stand up and straighten my suit jacket. "You sure are. Growing up way too fast on me, Muffin."

She steps back and fluffs the skirt of her birthday dress. "Isn't it pretty?" she asks. "Auntie Rose did my hair just like I wanted."

"You look beautiful, Muffin. Are you almost ready for your friends to arrive?"

She nods and holds up my top hat. "Can't forget this."

Oh, how I wish I could forget the dreaded thing.

When Marley decided that she wanted to host a high tea in lieu of a regular birthday party, Mom and Rose took over planning the event. Rosie's Restaurant has been transformed into a posh setting for Marley and her nine friends from school.

It's a girls-only event, something we made up for by taking cupcakes in for her class yesterday.

The men in Marley's life have a specific role in today's celebration.

We're to dress up like penguins, walk around talking in fake English accents, and make sure the girls have plenty of tea and finger sandwiches.

Yup. Daddy of the birthday girl has been demoted to waiter. I spend the afternoon refilling tiny cups, dishing out sandwiches and petit fours all for the happy giggling girl at the head of the table that has no idea what changes are coming this weekend.

I can only hope we're all still smiling then.