"But Mom," the girl whines, throwing herself across Kate's lap. "Dad would have let me."
Her heart clenches around the still raw hole, her breathing shuddering to a stop for a second. For a moment, it's not her daughter sprawled over her legs but Castle. His dark hair falling into his face, hiding eyes bright with pleading and amusement. She has to shake her head and close her eyes to replace the image with Jo's pouty lips.
"Let me guess," she sighs, brushing a hand over the tangled braid. "Dad let you stay up before?"
"Yes."
Kate groans, sitting back into the cushions of the couch. "Castle, we said eight o'clock," she whispers. "You deviate a few times and it becomes expected behavior."
Jo scrunches her face up, tilting her head into Kate's knee. "Why are you talking to Dad?"
Because he's still here. Not physically, but he still lingers. She's still finding little notes from him in the pockets of her jackets or slipped into books on the shelves. Some of his shirts still smell like his cologne and traces of shampoo. Sometimes she swears she can hear his laughter from the other room.
But their five year old doesn't need the haunting presence of her father. "I miss him, Jo. But that doesn't mean you get an extra hour before bed."
"I wanna read, though."
He'd ask for just a half hour then. The girl wants to read, Beckett. We both know you love to read. Give our daughter half an hour.
"Fine, Castle. Half an hour."
Jo's eyes light up, the grin replacing her pout instantly. "I get half an hour? For reading?"
Kate nods. "Half an hour. Go pick out a book and I'll be up in a minute."
"Two books?" she asks, looking hopeful.
Kate narrows her eyes. "Josephine, do not push it."
The girl scrambles off the couch, sliding on the hardwood floors in her fuzzy socks. "One book. Thanks Mom and Dad!"
She has to press her fingers to her eyes, feeling the cool line of her wedding ring against her cheek. "God, I miss you," she murmurs to the empty room before she gets up to follow Jo upstairs.
Her hand is on the railing, just reaching the middle landing of the staircase when his voice drifts to her ears, just a quiet "love you" tickling at her hair. It halts her, makes her spin around to search the kitchen and living room for him as if he was just playing one long game of hide-and-seek.
He's not there.
But still, she smiles, reaching up to wipe away the few tears. "Love you too, Castle."
Jo is snuggled under the covers already, the extra pillow propped up next to her, book on her lap. Kate pauses in the doorway, watching as the girl's finger traces under words and attempts to sound them out.
"Mom, what's this word?" she asks, pointing to the page.
She slides under the top blanket, settling back against the pillow. "Enormous," she says, tipping the cover of the book up. "Good choice. Maybe tomorrow we can go to the park and see if we can find our own ducklings."
Jo uses her shoulder to curl into Kate's side. "I like ducklings."
"Then it's a date," Kate says, touching her lips to the girl's head. She pulls the book closer so that it sits between them. "'Just as they were getting ready to start on their way, a strange enormous bird came by,'" she reads as Jo uses her finger to follow the words along the yellowed page.
Half an hour turns into a full hour before Jo is slumped in sleep against Kate's arm, fairy tales and classic books scattered over the covers.
Kate finds that she doesn't mind.