A morning of learning? If she’d walked into a preschool, maybe.
“I think the bride should fly in!” Nolie yelled. “With wings!”
“Wings?” Tessa and Lacey squealed.
“Yes!” Nolie exclaimed, flapping her arms. “Wings!”
Tessa pointed to the whiteboard. “Then put it on your list, Flying Figsworth!”
Crista’s stomach tightened. This wasn’t what she’d expected.
She set one grocery bag down on the kitchen island, clearing her throat, which wasn’t enough to get their attention.
“Hello?” she tried, making a quick mental note not to lose it…yet.
Didn’t Tessa realize they only had a few weeks? They weren’t teaching Nolie how to fly, for heaven’s sake!
Tessa, utterly unfazed, looked up from her laptop with a bright smile. “Hey, it’s almost like having Kate here again. She’s addicted to Publix. Please tell me you got my Essenza.”
“If it was on the list, I got it,” she said absently, unwinding her arms from the other bags. “What’s going on here?”
“We’re storming our brains!” Nolie announced, prancing over. “It’s like a big party where all you do is have ideas, Mommy! The first rule? There’s no bad idea!”
“And trust me, she’s tried,” Tessa said, tempering that with a droll smile at Nolie.
Crista took the hug Nolie effortlessly offered, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s head.
She was warm, like she’d been playing outside, her hair wild, her face flushed.
She stroked Nolie’s damp cheek, tucking a strand behind her ear. “Have you been, um, reading anything?”
“Not a word!” she exclaimed, rolling her eyes dramatically. “This is just for ideas and Tessa says the best ideas come from moving around. So we’re dancing!”
She added a giggle and a quick spin—done with more enthusiasm than Crista could remember seeing in a long time.
“Now I have to storm with my brain!” She zipped around the island, joining Tessa and Lacey, who seemed to be much more focused on a project than on Nolie.
Had Tessa forgotten she’d promised to work with the child? Had she just figured she’d tell Nolie to play by herself and call it “brainstorming”?
Crista swallowed, consciously forcing herself not to channel her inner Maggie and insist things be done a certain way. As much as she wanted to blow in here and make demands, she knew she must be patient.
Instead, she turned her attention to methodically unpacking groceries, her ears trained on the conversation in the living room.
She knew her own tendencies. She knew she could be dramatic, emotional, reactive. She had spent years trying to curb that, especially lately when it seemed like anything could set her off.
But she also knew she had to play this smart. She was here for Nolie, and she needed Tessa’s help. Starting yet another war with her wasn’t going to accomplish anything.
Still, the irritation simmered beneath her skin as she pulled milk from the bag and slid it into the fridge.
In the living room, the discussion continued.
“Okay, so what if we do a spotlight moment for the flower girl dresses?” Lacey suggested, gesturing to the board.
“Dress,” Tessa said. “I’d like to keep it to one—and we know who that is.”
“Me!” Nolie shouted. “Oh, oh! I have an idea, Miss Tessa!” She waved her hand like the show off in the front row of a classroom.
“Hit me with it, Figgy.”
