Chapter 8 Ethan’s Pov

“Daddy….”

Lily's voice brought me back to reality. I glanced back at her. “Lily…”

Her expression was warm, her eyes soft. She looked at me intensely. “Why did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Be mean to Mia.”

Sometimes I wondered where she picked these words. Clearly not me. I could feel my forehead wrinkling.

“This is grown up stuff, Lily. You shouldn't be meddling in grown up business.”

Lily did not care. She shook her head gently. “You always said to treat people kindly, Daddy and now look what you did to her.”

Her words stabbed my chest. Lily was right. I pride myself with teaching my daughter good manners and here I was acting this way.

I lowered my head in shame but Lily couldn't see that part. She got busy with the towel and the juice box, sipping with her pills in her hand.

“Are the dreams getting better?”

“No.” 

“But the doctor said it should have cleared up within three weeks.”

She shrugged, her shoulders lowered slowly. “Maybe I need more than that.”

Obviously. I turned to the other side of the kitchen where Mia sat before she left. The seat there was empty, the space vacant like the hole forming in my chest as I stood there.

I blinked twice, pushing the thought of her to the back of my mind. Worked everytime– worked with women who wanted me and the ones I wanted.

But not tonight, the harder I blinked the more flashes of Mia’s smile came to mind.

“Stop.” The words slipped out of my mouth like a soft whisper.

My thoughts did not obey me. I blinked again, harder this time. So hard my eyes watered. My vision blurred at the end but at least Mia left my mind.

“Daddy…” 

I snapped back to reality. “Yes?”

“I'm done.” She stretched the cup for me to take. I took it, dunked it in the newly washed sink. It hurt to see the sink I'd spent the whole afternoon cleaning stained barely hours later.

“What are we having for dinner?” Lily asked eagerly.

“Sauce. You can have another juice box while I make the food.”

Her forehead wrinkled just like mine did when confusion hit me hard. “Will Mia have some?”

“Yes. If she wants.”

“She mentioned she hates cooking but I'm sure she'd love to help out. Should I go call—”

“No!”

She flinched at how fast the words came out of my mouth. 

“Daddy.” her shoulder lowered. “Is there something wrong? Why are you being mean to Mia?”

I dragged a deep breath, children and their inquisition– scratch that, Lily and her curiosity. It was easier to deal with a snow storm in Vermont for a month than it was to handle Lily.

“I'm not being mean to her, Lily”

“Then why did you tell her that before and then ask me not to go call her?*

“Because… because…” the words wouldn't come out. That or explaining the reason I thought what I was doing was right to her, was difficult.

“Because of what?”

“Because she is a guest.” I said the first thing I thought of. “And as a guest, we should treat her like one. Sending her on errands and having her do stuff around the cabin is a bit… unkind, don't you think?”

Lily agreed with me in everything I said, even when it was just a suggestion. 

Not anymore.

“I don't think so, daddy. If she says she's comfortable doing something, the least you should do is let her do it. You're being mean, daddy and that's not nice.”

Her teeth were barely straight and yet she spoke more maturely than I did. I was taken aback. I swallowed hard. 

“Alright.”

“My tummy hurts, daddy. I want to go have a number two, if Mia comes out of her room, you should say you're sorry, that's the right thing to do.”

Being lectured by a six year old right after I saved her from a teary evening was not easy to apprehend as an adult, not to mention as the father of the six year old.

“Daddy, did you hear me?”

I nodded. “Alright, sweetheart. I'll do that.”

She bounced off the counter, her stance on the floor, perfect. Lily grabbed her favorite stuffed animal and started to her foot while I stood there, hooked and leaned over the counter, watching her.

When the door closed behind her, I turned to the task at hand. The vegetables. I sighed, shoulders slacked.

“Sure would have been nice having someone cut the vegetables.”

Yes. It would have been, but I was always the one cutting vegetables for the two of us– Lily and I, for the longest time.

How could I let someone else come buzzing into my life— I meant my daughter's life, getting close to her, enough to cut our vegetables.

No way.

I grabbed the basket of vegetables and dunked them in the sink, grabbed a knife and started washing away.

When the last peel left the cabbage and I thrashed the waste again, I lifted my head towards the clock.

Past eight.

It was going to be a late dinner then. I grabbed a pan, some olive oil and some spices.

The stove light with a tired blue flame, I tightened the knot around, a safety precaution I took since before when Lily said she loved cooking and wanted to try.

The first vegetable swirled inside the pan. Cabbage, cabbages, some avocados. I whisked some eggs inside too. When I turned over the sauce to be ready, I took out some plates.

One for Lily, a small portion. One for me and then… Mia.

I took some rice outside, the sauce was perfect with a bowl of rice. When I finished, I took a step back with my hands folded at my chest.

“Should be enough for an apology, shouldn't it?”

Silence greeted me. That was my cue.

I let Lily have hers before I packed Mia's. The first knock on her door felt lifeless. I exhaled. Perhaps calling her name out would be better. 

And so I did.

“Mia. Hello. Could you come out for a second? I'd like to talk to you.”