Saturdays go like this: I drive to Montclair, sometimes alone, sometimes with Kir. Lily and I do whatever she wants. Last week, it was the playground, down the slide again and again until I got burn marks on my ass. The week before that, we made cookies and ate frosting straight out of the jar, and laughed and laughed and laughed together.
It’s not uncomplicated. There are moments where she looks at me with a question in her eyes that she doesn’t know how to phrase yet. Sometimes, I have to go to the bathroom for a moment to compose myself. But I always come back out. That’s the part that matters.
Arabella sends me photos during the week incessantly, but it’s never enough. I always want more. Lily at the breakfast table. Lily in her Halloween costume. Lily asleep on the couch. Every phot
