Page 171 of Small Town Firsts

I stifle a laugh—she’s so precious it hurts. “Unbecoming? That’s an awfully big word, Tater Tot.”

She beams. “I smart.”

“Very much so.

“What’s you doing?” she asks, scrunching up her nose.

“Cleaning.”

“Why?”

“Alden is coming over.” Before I can get another word out of my mouth, my girl is full-on happy dancing. I’m talking head-bobbing, booty-shaking, foot-stomping, hand-clapping dancing.

“You excited?”

“Yes!” she squeals, throwing her tiny arms around me, knocking me onto my ass, and my head into the stove for a second time. “I’m so ‘cited! I gotta get dressed, Mama! Like a pwincess!”

She takes off toward her room, and I push myself back up onto my knees. I give the oven one last appraisal—it looks almost new, despite its years of use. Gripping the lip of the counter, I pull myself to a standing position and check the time. “Oh my God! It’s already five!”

I haul ass down the hall, pausing outside of Tatum’s door. “Mama’s getting in the shower. I’ll leave the door open!”

I turn the knob, shuck off my clothes, and hop in before the water even has a chance to get warm. “Cold, cold!” I squeak, but I power through. By the time the water runs warm, I’m finishing up and hopping out.

I forego a towel entirely, drip-drying as I make a mad dash to my closet. I toss on my undergarments, shimmy into a pair of leggings, and pull a tank over my head. I toss my wet hair up into a bun and rush back to check on Tatum.

Unlike me, she is a picture of pure perfection, decked out in a lemon-colored flippy tulle skirt, a pastel-pink cap sleeve top with a silver-glitter heart on the front, and a pair of purple high-top Converse.

“Fix my hair, Mama?”

I check the time on my phone. Five-forty. “Sure baby.” I follow her into her room and take a seat on her bed, where she already has her brush and hair elastics waiting. She stands between my knees as I brush her hair, smoothing it away from her face. I do a pretty waterfall braid and then secure the ends into a side pony.

“You done?”

“I am. Go look.”

She rushes over to the mirror and squeals at her reflection. “Thanks, Mama! It’s perfect!”

I put her brush and extra elastics in her top drawer and drop a kiss to her forehead. “Glad you like it, baby.”

We both freeze when the sound of the doorbell echoes through the apartment. Tatum recovers before I do, making a break for the door. I trail after, more apprehensive than excited. But, I know this is the first step in mending all that I broke.

I gently scoot my girl out of the way and open the door. The sight of Alden damn near takes my breath away. He’s dressed in a pair of navy cargo shorts and a weathered gray graphic tee that reads,You are what you eat.Nothing special, but my God, it’s mouthwatering all the same.

“Hey,” he says casually.

“Hi.”

“Alden!”

“Hey there, Princess. I’ve got something for you. If your mama ever asks me in I’ll give it to you.”

If the floor could swallow me up right about now, that’d be great.I open the door wider and gesture for him to enter. Tatum wastes no time leaping into his arms, knocking the reusable shopping bag he’s holding from his grip. “Alden! I missed you!”

I see some unidentifiable emotion pass over his face, but it’s gone in the blink of an eye. I pick up the bag as he hugs her closer and twirls her around. “I missed you too, pretty girl! You ready to see what I brought you?”

He sets her down and she’s almost vibrating from excitement. It kills me to know that this could have been the norm for her. “Yessssss!”

He kneels down and reaches into his pocket, retrieving a small organza drawstring bag. He tugs it open and spills the contents into his palm and presents it to Tatum.

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