JJ
The morning Millie became Millie Nixxon, she changed her clothes four times because she couldn’t decide which shade of purple looked most official.
“Neither is a courthouse requirement,” Benny informed her from our bedroom doorway.
“You don’t know that. Have you adopted anybody?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Then Mommy should answer.”
I looked up from fastening my necklace. “The darker dress, sweetheart. You said it’s more comfortable.”
She inspected it. “Fine. Rabbit gets the light one.”
Benny disappeared downstairs to tell Nixx we were almost ready. He’d been delivering that message for twenty minutes, so I doubted anybody believed him anymore.
One year and four months had passed since our wedding. Millie was ten now, a fact she reminded us of whenever she thought she deserved a later bedti
