Page 150 of Sawyer

While the girls watch a movie after bath time, Ava and I have some fun in our closet.

My favorite: the girls will often play together in their room before they come downstairs in the morning. That gives Ava and me just enough time for some hot, slow morning sex that fills my bucket in a way I never thought possible.

I can handle any crisis, deal with any tantrum, as long as I have my daily dose of Ava.

“To start,” Ava instructs, using her fingers to part Junie’s hair, “we separate the hair into two equal sections, right down the middle. Just like that. Doesn’t have to be perfect.”

I’m gentle as I do what Ava tells me. “That feel okay, Ella?”

“Yes, Daddy. I’m so excited for my braids. Ms. Sherman is going to think June and I are twin princesses.”

Ava laughs. “That sounds fun. Okay, now we start making our braids. Each of these sections is going to become its own plait. So now we divide this left section into three parts—yep, you’re doing great, honey.”

My chest squeezes at the endearment. I’ve always been a bit of a softy, so of course I love it when Ava’s extra sweet with me.

Same as I love being extra sweet with her.

“You speak too soon,” I reply. “I haven’t even started yet.”

Ava sits up straighter. “Then let’s do this thing. Okay, so you take the first strand, the one all the way to the left, and you cross it over the middle—no, the middle. Theothermiddle.”

“Like this?” My fingers feel big and stupid as I try to mimic Ava’s motions. “How do you make it look so easy?”

“Because I’m an expert,” Ava replies smoothly. “Now try again. That’s right. Great. Now take the right strand and cross it—no, the right strand onthisside.” She reaches over to show me which clump of hair I should use.

Ella sighs. “Daddy, you’re not very good at this.”

“No one is very good at something when they’re first learning how to do it.” Ava glances at me, the edges of her eyes crinkling. “We have to be patient with ourselves. Perseverance is everything.”

“She’s right,” I say glumly. “I’m just not used to beingthisbad at something.”

Ava nudges me with her elbow. “We all have to start somewhere. Now, back to the braid. We cross that strand over the one closest to it, like this. Yes! Yes, there you go.”

It takes several tries and more almost F-bombs than I can count, but eventually my daughter proudly tosses a pair of lopsided braids over her shoulders. Running to the mirror, she squeals with delight.

“Daddy, you did it!”

I lean toward Ava and whisper, “Thank God she doesn’t notice how bad they are.”

“They were made with love.” Ava presses a kiss to my mouth. “Proud of you, honey.”

The girls hold hands and literally skip through the classroom door when we drop them off at school. As I watch them, my throat tightens.

“Aw.” Ava runs a hand across my back. “You all right there, big guy?”

I swipe my thumb over my cheeks. “Yep. Just feeling my feelings the way our daughters taught us. I never—for a minute there, I thought Ella might not have any siblings. Now she’s got a built-in best friend.”

“Sisters from different misters.”

That makes me smile. I pull Ava in for a hug. “Happy?” I ask.

“So happy,” she whispers. “But I’d be even happier if you joined me in the shower when we get home.”

My lips twitch. “I gotta get to work.”

“I’ll make it quick.”

“You’d better.”

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