I laughed because it was true. Harold had kept Mike’s beat-up mug from their college road trip and used it every single morning. Mia would toddle over and reach for it as if it were a piece of her dad.
« That mug’s hers whenever she wants it, » he added, softer.
« She’ll love the pool. »
I remembered thinking, goodness, we’re lucky. And then I remembered thinking, are we, though?
***
Mia squirmed in my arms as we walked up the drive to Harold’s house. She was in a small yellow dress with grass stains I hadn’t been able to scrub out.
« Mommy, can I swim? »
« Not tonight, baby. Just visiting. »
« I want Daddy. »
« I know, sweetheart. I know. »
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