Page 6 of August Kind of Love

“Does it get cold?”

“I think so. We’re pretty far north. You’ll have to wear boots and mittens.”

“I don’t like mittens.”

“They’re warmer than gloves. Your fingers stay together.”

“Not your thumb.”

“No, not your thumb. So, the thumb can get cold. When that happens, you pull it back into the mitten and put it with the rest of your fingers.”

“My thumb won’t get cold.”

“It might.”

Emily shook her head. “I have very warm thumbs.”

“That’s good. You might need them.”

“I want red mittens.”

“Red? Why red?”

“I look pretty in red.”

I laughed. “Yes, yes, you do.”

“Can I have red hair then?”

“Maybe someday, when you’re old enough.”

“I’m old enough now.”

“Nope, not yet.”

“Shoot. I like red hair.”

“When you’re older.”

By the end of the day, the house looked like a house. The beds had been put together. The furniture was in place. The boxes were in their proper rooms. The kitchen had been put to rights, as that was necessary if we were going to eat. Emily was in her playroom, arranging her dolls and toys, and games. I looked around, and that was when it hit me.

I had moved.

I had pulled up stakes and driven seven hundred miles north to a city I had never seen before for a job I had never held. Now that I thought about it, the move seemed the dumbest thing I had ever done. Fear rippled through me. I shivered.

What had I done?

Not only me. I had ripped Emily out of her familiar home and school. I had changed her…everything. I told myself children were incredibly resilient. In a few months, she would hardly remember her old house. That’s what I told myself. I would probably remember more than her.

What had I done?

I walked to the front windows and looked out into the dark. The streetlights were comforting. The parked cars were comforting. I was in a good neighborhood in a good city. I would be fine. I simply had to get past the fear. Wilmington was familiar, easy, and warm. Evanston was…unknown and scary. I told myself I couldn’t allow myself to be scared. I have a daughter. I have a job. I have no reason to be frightened. Which is why I was.

Different house, different sounds. Sleep was long in coming.

I had not yet in-processed at the bank, but my aide, Marcie, fetched Emily and me from the lobby. I wanted to show Emily my office. Should she need to find me, she could. I liked the VICE PRESIDENT on the door. I was not the head of the Human Resources department for the bank. A lot of people worked under me, which was both a good thing and a bad thing. I was responsible not only for my staff but for all the employees. How was I going to make each and every one of them a success? I pushed that thought from my mind.

“I can see the water,” Emily said, her nose pressed to a window.