I’m gently brought back from my reverie by a soft touch on my shoulder. Ms. Tina’s warm voice breaks the silence, “He was up until 3 a.m. working on this. Then he was in the kitchen early to prepare not just breakfast but lunch too. The poor man was so disappointed about not having time to make dinner as well. You’re special, Ms. Kind, and your spirit has already lifted this household. Mr. Grimes might seem rough around the edges, a tough nut to crack, but once you get past that, you’ll find he’s the most intentional, protective, and gentlest man you’ll ever meet.”

Ms. Tina leaves, but her words sink in, echoing through me as I absorb the beauty of my new sanctuary. Shortly after, I wake up Ari and Syd and prepare them for their school day, but I can feel Vic’s absence hanging heavy in the air.

“It’s so weird not seeing Daddy’s face first thing in the morning.” Ari comments while begrudgingly dragging her feet through the quiet kitchen.

Suddenly, his voice booms from the kitchen camera, “Will hearing my voice first thing in the morning do?” The girls’ faces light up, and their sleepiness vanishes as they chirp in unison, “Daddy!”

Syd’s voice wobbles a bit as she admits, “I miss you already, Daddy.”

“I miss you too,” His response is soft before turning his attention to me. “Ms. Kind, your outfit is... rather casual. I mean, you look nice.” His awkward compliment catches me off guard, but I twirl in defiance and desire to show off just a tad.

Ari cuts through the awkward moment, “Isn’t Ms. Kind pretty in pink, Daddy?”

His reply comes quickly, almost too quickly, “Have a great day, girls.” Then, the camera light cuts out.

I chuckle to myself, shaking my head. There’s something oddly enjoyable about throwing Mr. Structure off balance. Still, a part of me wishes he lingered just a moment longer so I could express my gratitude for making his home mine, too, even if he communicates in his own cryptic way.

The lessons for the day flow smoothly. I dive into reading comprehension, sight words, and single-digit math equations with Syd. Her concentration constantly breaks, but it’s steady enough to get through her work. I enjoy watching her confidence grow as she conquers each new challenge.

Ari, on the other hand, breezes through multiplication and decimals before some structured story writing. She’s sharp, razor-sharp, and her ideas flow with the ease of someone twice her age, like storytelling is stitched into her DNA.

“Ms. Kind,” Ari starts, her voice soft as she dips her head, hiding behind the curtain of her braids. “I want to write a story about me becoming the greatest soccer player in the world.” She pauses, her voice growing quieter. “Even with me only having one leg.”