I don’t know how to answer her because I think it’s wrong to limit our children’s dreams, narrow their vision, color and darken their optimism. I understand the need to prepare children for reality, but Nic seems to be suggesting that happiness isn’t attainable and children are better resigned to life than to be disappointed by loss or failure.

I think of the way I’ve lived my life and the way I’d want Jessica to live hers, and I don’t want her to be like me. I don’t want her to play it safe. I don’t want her to hang back, not take risks because she’s afraid to risk or fail. Pain is part of life. Making mistakes is, too.

I know I’ve made mistakes, but I’m determined to learn from them and do better.

Live better.

Live happier.

I reach into my purse for my cell phone as I leave Cactus an hour later. I call Kai, but when his voice mail picks up, I don’t leave a message.

Kai calls me back as I’m making the kids dinner. “How’s your day?” he asks.

“Okay.”

“Doesn’t sound okay.”

I’m amazed at how well he can read me already. I put the lid on the spaghetti sauce and turn the heat down on the burner, reducing it to a simmer. “Are you happy?” I ask him, leaning against the counter, pot holder still on my hand.

“Yes.”

I rub my forehead with the stiff cotton pot holder, the thick quilting rough against my skin. “Why?”

“Why am I happy?”

“Yes.”

I can hear the faint hiss of air over the phone. He’s either sighing or exhaling. “I like my life.”

“Is that it?”

“I like what I do.”

“You don’t make a lot of money.”

“I don’t need a lot of money.”

“You can’t travel the world.”

“Why do I need to travel when I live in paradise?”

I smile reluctantly. “People would argue you that point.”

“But I’m not those people, and I don’t care to know those people. I make my own decisions. I don’t let other people make up my mind for me.” He pauses. “Not like you do.”

“I don’t.”

“You do. You’re a nice person. You want to be liked by everyone. You want people to approve of you. While I could care less if anyone likes me, much less approves of me. I’m living my life the way I want to live it, and that makes me happy.”

The water has come to a boil, and I reach for the bag of noodles. “I wish you were here tonight. We’re having spaghetti.”

“I wish I were there, too. I’m starving.”

“Great. Come on over.”

“I’m on the next plane.”