This is exactly what I needed to get my mind off Nicole’s ring. I still have the best thing we ever did, which is this little munchkin sitting next to me.

The prince and the princess begin waltzing around the castle, the music crescendos, and the credits roll, ending the movie.

“Okay, Caitlyn,” I say. “Eight o’clock. Time for bed.”

Without much of a fuss, she hops off the couch and heads upstairs.

While she gets ready for bed, I turn on the light in the Writing Room and fire up the computer for some background writing music. I’m going to try to get some writing done to make up for this afternoon, but first, I head upstairs to tuck Caitlyn into bed.

I enter the room just as she’s crawling under the covers.

I go over and kiss her on the forehead.

“Good night, pumpkin.”

“Good night, Dad.”

“Know what?”

“What?”

“I’m really proud of you for standing up to that Peter Sanders.”

She smiles, unsure of how to respond.

I kiss her forehead again, go to the door, and remember to hit the night-light.

“Get some sleep. Love you.”

“Love you too, Dad.”

She snuggles deeper into the covers.

I close the door and head back downstairs into the Writing Room, when I sit in my chair and grab the pen.

“All right. Let’s try this again.”

*

I don’t get far.

It’s not bad. My main character is trying to find out who sent the hitman after him. This stuff should be riveting, but I can’t get into it. Thoughts of Nicole’s ring elbow their way back into my mind.

Maybe I’ll try again with the rake tomorrow.

No. I’ve got to accept it. It’s gone. I’ve got to stop thinking about it. This is what I need to focus on.

But maybe one more throw with the rake. Just one.

No. Move on.

I keep going back and forth until I have to put my pen down. I need to concentrate. I’ve got to reset my brain and focus on this hitman. I stand up, jump around a little bit, shake out my hands, and take some deep breaths. The clock on the computer monitor says that it’s 11:30 p.m. Damn. I want to finish this chapter before going to bed and at this rate, the sun will be up before that happens.

My muscles ache from a night in the office chair and pulling the rake through the mud. My throat is parched. Some aspirin and a glass of water is what I need to get this chapter going.

I pause the music on the computer and step out of the Writing Room.