“Are you sure you’re good watching her?” I glance back into the house for the billionth time. “You know what? I’ll just take her with me.”
Foster, my best friend, steps in front of me, blocking my path.
“Dude, we got this. Besides, your kid loves me.”
“She loves you because you feed her sugar and let her bounce off the walls.”
“So?” Foster shrugs and sends me an evil smirk. “It’s not like I have to deal with the fallout.”
“You love me, which is why you moved out here – to spend time with me.”
“I moved out here for my daughter, to raise her in a good community, and that’s it.”
“The way he said her name made my heart cramp. In all my years of word collecting, I’ve learned this to be a tried and true fact: I can very often tell how much a person loves another person by the way they say their name. I think that’s one of the best feelings in the world, when you know your name is safe in another person’s mouth. When you know they’ll never shout it out like a cuss word, but say it or whisper it like a once-upon-a-time.”