the kitchen. “I have no clue where your Mom puts anything, so I need your help looking for it? Deal?
Lyra crossed her legs and raised her thumbs at me. “Deal.”
I opened every cupboard and scanned her fridge for something to cook. After pulling out pork chops, I quickly realized Lyra also had no clue where Emilia kept anything. Dinner took longer than usual that night but when we sat at the dining room table to eat, even I was impressed with how good everything tasted.
Lyra’s hair had a few splatters of sauce in it when Emilia came to join us at the table. “Wow.” She bit down on her lower lip and looked at the table and then towards the kitchen.
There was a mountain of dishes on the counter top. Every spice had been pulled out of her spice rack. “Hey!” I tossed my hands in the air. “I know it tastes good, and that’s all that matters.”
Lyra giggled. I looked over at her and winked. I would spend hours cleaning the kitchen, but it was worth the mess since I had made the memory of cooking with Lyra.
----
L ater that night , after Emilia and I had both tucked Lyra into bed, I showered and noticed Emilia was sitting outside on her deck. The curtains in my room had been pulled open, and from my bed I could see her on the chair. Wanting to be near her, I threw a T–shirt on and walked out with my guitar in one hand. She was sitting near the fire pit, a glass of wine in one hand as she stared intensely into the flames.
“Do you mind if I sit?”
“No.” She sat upright on the chair. “Would you like a glass?” She raised her wine to me. I wasn't a wine drinker, but tonight, I'd be whatever she wanted me to be.
“Sure.”
She stood and went to get me a glass. I pulled my guitar out of its case and sat it on my knee. Tuning the chords, I watched as she poured me a glass and filled hers back up.
“I haven’t listened to you play in so long,” she said as she handed me the glass of wine.
I took a sip and placed the glass on the side table. To my surprise, it wasn't as terrible as I remembered wine tasting.
“Do you like? It’s Château Pétrus, one of the best red Bordeaux. It cost me over two thousand dollars a bottle but it was totally worth it, right?”
I blinked at her. “You spent how much ?”
“I went into the liquor store the day I found out I had cancer. I'd never treated myself to the expensive liquors behind the glass case. It was a day from hell, so I said screw it. I never had the chance to drink it until today.”
“Well, I'm glad I got to be here with you.”
“Cheers.” She raised her glass to mine.
“To really expensive grapes,” I joked.
Emilia laughed as she brought her lips to the glass and took a small sip. “Play something for me.” She hugged her knees to her chest.
“I haven't been working on anything new.” I ran my fingers down the chords.
“I don’t care if you play me a Christmas carol. Sing something for me.”
I moved my fingers along the neck of the guitar and closed my eyes. The chords began to fall into place and I hummed the first notes of the song I wrote about Lyra.
You’re the holder of my heart,
The keeper of my soul, the light in the dark.
When I begin to roam,
Right from the start. Your love let me know,
That no matter what, I’ll never be alone.
Being your dad means the world to me,
You are my little sweet princess, my little sweet pea.
P eeling my eyes open , I looked at Emilia. Her head was to the side, resting on the chair, and her hands were on her heart. I didn't stop, but singing it at a slower tempo I continued to the very end. She shook her head slightly, a sideways grin appearing on her face.
“What?”
“Why do you have to be so good at everything?”
I chuckled and took another sip. “I've only sung that song once before. I think that was pretty rusty.”
“Really? Only once?”
“Yep.” I shook my head slowly, remembering the night. “It was my grand gesture to get you back. I only wish I had