Page 58 of Iron Hearts

I smiled and wondered what Striker would think about that.

“Later, girl,” I said and she waved at me and made for the bus stop, opening up her black lace parasol to shade her fair and pale skin from the harsh sun.

I went and got into my Jeep and drove back to the house. Mom wasn’t home yet, and grandma and grandpa were up to their eyeballs with the boys. Both of them looked relieved when I walked through the door to the thrice shrill chorus of “Rarity!” from the little terrors.

“You take them, I’ll take dinner,” Grandma declared and I put on a brittle smile and nodded.

All I wanted was five minutes to decompress, but no rest for the wicked, or so they say…

It wasn’t until after dinner, after baths, and after a hell of a fight putting the three little monsters down for bed, that Mom and I had a minute.

“Drinks?” she asked, hopefully.

I said, “I’ll make you one, but I really just want some time to myself tonight.”

“All good, baby – I’ll make my own,” she said with a sigh.

“Okay,” I said and we hugged. “Goodnight, Mom.”

“G’night,” she said.

She went for the kitchen, I went for my bedroom, and finally, blessedly, shut my door on the world and dropped onto the edge of my bed with a sigh.

I took up my phone and saw a few missed texts from Striker. A couple general just ‘heys’ set hours apart, and finally an;I’m around if you want to talk. I don’t want to bother you. Clearly, you’re having a busy one today. Miss talkin’ to you, baby girl.

I laid out on my bed and held the phone over my face.

Hi, yeah, it’s been wild… I missed talking to you, too – I just haven’t had even a minute to myself all day.

It took around twenty minutes to get a response, and by the time my phone buzzed, it was through my breastbone as I’d rested it on my chest and had already begun to doze.

Hey, baby girl. You want to talk about it?

I filled him in on my day, and about the boys being your typical rambunctious four-year-old boys and he made jokes with me, and did what he always did… empathized and made me feelheard.

All jokes aside,he said,sounds like it was rough. I can totally get being overwhelmed and over stimmed and just needing a fucking break. I don’t know how you do it, baby girl – but you’re a fuckin’ rockstar for doing it.

I felt my hard resolve soften, and I closed my eyes and just breathed for a moment, basking in the warm glow of his words.

How do you do that?I thumbed out.

Do what?he asked.

Make me feel so calm with just a few words, like a flip of the switch… For real, I’ve been wound up and stressed out all day and just a few minutes of texting with you I feel so much better.

I waited and what he sent back was a bit surprising, but not at the same time…

That’s what a Daddy is supposed to do for his little girl…

I thought about that for a bit and asked…

Can we talk more about that?

He didn’t hesitate.

Of course.

What would you like to know?

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