***Three Years Later ***
"Arlie, come back here!!" I shouted, barefoot and out of breath. Hihihi! No, Mommy! Catch me if you can!" Her infectious giggle echoed down the marble hallway as her tiny feet padded across the glossy floor, her curls bouncing wildly behind her.
"Arlie, please come here. I'm tired from all this running. We're late for Mia's party. Come, baby. "No, I won't!" she giggled and darted just beyond my reach again, her laughter piercing through the calm estate like a melody. The sound my God was the most beautiful music in the world.
Ten uniformed maids were in full chase behind her, panting and stumbling over themselves like they were in some royal obstacle course. "Miss Arlie! Miss Arlie!" they called out, hopelessly waving their arms like that would suddenly convince her to stop.
She zigzagged between antique furniture and sidestepped a vase worth more than someone's mortgage. I placed a palm on my forehead and groaned.
Then—
"Arlie!!"
She skidded to a halt.That voice.
Mark stood tall at the end of the hallway, arms folded, his suit jacket half on and his piercing eyes narrowed just slightly not angry, just authoritative enough.
I let out a slow breath and walked toward him, completely winded. "Now that's what you get from stressing me this morning…" I muttered under my breath. Mark stepped forward. "Come here!!"
Arlie looked at him, caught red-handed in her rebellion. She sighed and dragged her little feet forward, her head hanging low like a puppy who'd been scolded.
"Raise your head…" Mark's voice softened. "A Wilson never bows." Her tiny head lifted. Big blue eyes. Curly lashes. That pout. She flashed him one of those looks the kind that had melted every heart from the butler to the bodyguards.
"Awww!" the maids chorused in unison like background singers in a drama. Mark crouched to her level and raised an eyebrow. "Don't look at me like that. The look you're giving me… it's not working. Why are you disturbing your mom?"
"Me? I never did that." She gasped, pointing at me with disbelief. "Mommy, did I disturb you?" She turned to me and raised her little fist like a cartoon villain her eyes narrowing in mock fury. It was all I could do not to laugh.
I folded my arms across my chest. "Ouu, would you look at that." Mark chuckled. "Arlie, I can see you're rebellious. You want to throw your mom a punch with that little fist of yours?"
"No! I would never do that!" she exclaimed dramatically, shaking her head as if we had offended her honor. Really?"
Yeah, Daddy."
"Okay, come here." She opened her arms and Mark lifted her into his arms effortlessly. "Ouu, you're so heavy!" he groaned playfully.
"You think so, Daddy??" Her eyes lit up.
"Yeah."
"Mommy, see? I finished my soy milk and ate three waffles!" Really, Arlie??" I asked, raising a brow. Yes, Daddy." "That's one hell of an appetite." Of course! It has to be cause I'm just like you!"
Mark laughed, that deep, warm laugh that I hadn't heard in a few stressful weeks. And in that moment, despite all the chaos, the scandal, and the secrets that seemed to swirl around our lives like storm clouds, I saw it peace. Even if just for now.
Arlie curled into his chest like she'd just won a war. Her crown of soft curls nestled under his chin as he smiled down at her, shaking his head.
"Hahahaha."
And just like that, the Wilsons were back in sync even if our daughter had just run an entire marathon through the house before a party.