PART 10
Chapter 10
"Incoming!"
A bright blue water balloon sailed through the air, completely missing its target and detonating against the side of the wooden deck with a wet smack.
"You're gonna have to aim better than that, squirt!" I yelled, laughing as I dodged behind the barbecue grill.
It was the second week of July, and the backyard was completely transformed. Brightly colored streamers hung from the oak trees, a massive inflatable water slide occupied the center of the lawn, and a dozen screaming, laughing seven-year-olds were engaged in a ruthless water balloon war.
It was Lily’s seventh birthday party, and the house was full of life.
I flipped a row of burgers on the grill, the smoke curling up into the clear blue summer sky. To my right, sitting at one of the picnic tables, was Melissa—the nurse from the night of the storm. We had kept in touch, and she had become a beloved fixture in our lives, a sort of honorary aunt to Lily. Next to her sat Miss Harper, Evelyn, who was off for the summer and had gladly accepted an invitation.
"You’re losing the war, Miller!" Melissa teased, taking a sip of her iced tea as a rogue water balloon splashed near my boots.
"I'm executing a tactical retreat," I corrected her, tapping the tongs against the grill. "There's a difference."
Suddenly, a wet, heavy weight slammed into the back of my knees, nearly taking me down. I spun around to find Buster, dripping wet and panting happily, holding a deflated green water balloon in his mouth.
"Traitor," I muttered, scratching his wet head.
"Cake time!" Evelyn called out, clapping her hands.
The water war instantly ceased. The kids stampeded onto the wooden deck, forming a chaotic, dripping circle around the large patio table.
I walked over, carrying a massive chocolate cake decorated with sugar-frosted dinosaurs. I set it down in front of Lily, who was wrapped in a towel, her hair plastered to her forehead, grinning from ear to ear.
I struck a match and carefully lit the seven candles.
The chorus of "Happy Birthday" rang out, loud and off-key, echoing off the fences and floating up into the trees. I stood back, leaning against the wooden railing, and took in the scene.
I looked at the house we had made into a home. I looked at the friends who surrounded us, people who knew the value of loyalty and kindness. I looked at Buster, sitting loyally by Lily's chair, waiting for a dropped crumb of chocolate.
And finally, I looked at my daughter.
She wasn't the freezing, terrified little girl in the muddy pajamas anymore. She was vibrant, loud, unconditionally loved, and completely safe.
"Make a wish, Lily!" one of the kids yelled.
Lily closed her eyes, squinching her face tight in deep concentration. She took a massive breath, leaned forward, and blew out all seven candles in a single breath. The kids cheered, and Buster let out a celebratory bark.
"What did you wish for?" Melissa asked, smiling.
Lily opened her eyes and looked up at me.
"Nothing," she said, her smile wide and bright. "I already have everything."
May you like
I walked over, wrapping my arms around her shoulders and planting a kiss on the top of her wet head. Looking out at the sun-drenched yard, the laughing children, and the life we had clawed back from the brink, I knew she was absolutely right.
We had everything.
