Page 27 of Loved By You

“I need to put her down. Do you mind hanging with Lexi? If she asks for M&M’s tell her she has to wait.”

I chuckle. “Okay, I think I can handle that.”

As I walk into the front room, Lexi tips one of the many toy boxes I can see dotted around the space, onto the wooden floor.An array of dolls and tiny accessories flood the floor and she looks at me with wide eyes. "Oopsie."

I sit on the floor next to Lexi. "What are you playing?"

Lexi eyes me, then her gaze drops to the floor. “You're not mad I made a mess?” I shake my head as my brow furrows slightly.

"No, why would I be mad?"

She shrugs, swirling her hand into the pile of toys. "My daddy always gets mad." My heart squeezes for her, for Ria and what they've been through. I can't focus on Alex right now though, Lexi is more important.

"Sometimes adults get mad, but it's not your fault." She nods. "Come on, show me your favorite toy."

“This one,” she beams excitedly. “Barbie, do you like Barbie?”

“Yeah, sure,” I reply, never having had an opinion about Barbie until now.

“Mommy only lets me play with Barbies if I don't take the heads off.”

I tilt my head, looking at the mini Ria in front of me. "Why do you take the heads off?"Probably a loaded question, but here we are.

She picks up the doll, waving it in front of my face. "To swap them, duh."

“Of course,” I say, tapping my forehead. "Silly me.”

"But Nugget ate one of the heads and went to the doggie hospital, so now I don't swap them."

I laugh. Kids are so funny.

"Did you pick his name?"

She nods. "Chicken nuggets are my favorite food ever. They are soooo good."

“They sure are.”

She stands up and drops the Barbie to the floor. “Do you like Cher?”

“Cher. the singer?”

“Yeah,” she says excitedly, running over to the record player and pulling out a vinyl.“It's Mommy’s favorite song and my song. Do you want to watch me sing?”

Oh, I can't wait to tease Ri about this.

“I think your mommy is getting Elle to take a nap. It might be too loud, sweetie.”

“No, it won't,” she says adamantly.

“Okay, sure.” Who am I to tell her no?

Her little hands place the record on the player, and she walks over to me and gives me a remote. “This one’s a fancy one. When I say hit it, you need to press the red button, okay?”

“Got it.”

She drags over a little pink plastic microphone that's connected to a pink stand, full of confidence and determination, and gives me a thumbs up. I give her one back with a smile.

Shit, she’s cute.

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