My Daughter Gives Me Infinite Rewards

Chapter 6: Pinky Promise

The shout made Lucas nearly drop his phone.

He fumbled it back into his hand, shoved it into his pocket, and hurried toward the bedroom.

Cici was sitting up in the bed. Her cheeks were wet, her hair stuck up in messy little tufts, and both of her fists were clenched in the blanket. Her red eyes were fixed on the doorway.

"Cici, what happened?"

Lucas rushed over and lowered his voice.

"Hey, hey. Daddy’s here. I’m right here. You’re okay."

The moment she saw him, her little face crumpled all over again. She broke into gulping sobs and reached for him with both hands.

"Daddy..."

Lucas scooped her up at once.

"I woke up... and you weren’t there," Cici cried. "I thought you left me."

Her little hand clamped down on his shoulder.

That hit him harder than he expected.

"No," he said, rubbing her back. "I didn’t go anywhere. I was just in the kitchen."

Cici buried her face in his shirt. Her fingers gripped his collar so tightly that she pulled it crooked.

"You don’t want me anymore?"

For half a second, Lucas went still.

Then he hugged her tighter.

"No, no, no. Don’t ever think that. Daddy wants you."

Cici sniffled and lifted her tear-streaked face.

"Promise?"

Lucas held up his hand.

"Pinky promise."

Cici looked at his hand for a moment, then slowly hooked her tiny pinky around his.

Her finger was so small. Almost weightless.

But when it curled around his, Lucas felt the weight of it more than he expected.

"Pinky promise," she whispered. ƒreewebɳovel.com

Lucas kissed her forehead, and his chest tightened again.

Cici stayed in his arms for a while. Eventually, the crying wore itself out, though she still hiccupped now and then.

A few minutes later, she tugged on his shirt and whispered, "Daddy... I have to go pee-pee."

Lucas carried her to the bathroom.

The bathroom was small. His toothbrush cup sat beside the sink. His towel hung on the rack. That was basically it.

There was nothing here for a child.

No potty seat.

No step stool.

No little towel.

Nothing.

Cici looked at the toilet, then looked back at him.

"Where’s my little seat, Daddy?"

Lucas froze.

Right.

Of course Evelyn’s place had a potty seat. Probably a step stool, too. Cici was probably used to climbing up, washing her hands, and doing little things by herself—the way kids her age liked to do.

Here, all she had was a full-sized toilet and a dad who had not thought that far ahead.

"Daddy will help this time," Lucas said. "Don’t worry. We’ll buy your little seat later."

Cici nodded.

Lucas helped her onto the toilet and carefully kept her steady. One hand held her in place. The other hovered nearby, ready to catch her if she wobbled.

Helping a child use the toilet.

Somehow, his palms still started to sweat.

He turned his face away, his ears burning.

Being a dad wasn’t some grand, heroic speech.

It was this.

Making sure she did not fall off the toilet.

Remembering potty seats.

Buying step stools.

Putting a child-sized toothbrush next to his own.

He could forget things for himself.

But because of Cici, he had to think of everything.

A moment later, Cici said, "Done."

He helped her down, fixed her clothes, and brought her to the sink to wash her hands.

As she rubbed soap between her tiny fingers, Lucas started making a mental list.

Potty seat.

Step stool.

Kid towel.

Waterproof mattress cover.

Extra pajamas.

This time, Cici had called for him. That was good.

But she was still a little girl. If she woke up scared again, or half-asleep in the middle of the night, it might not go this smoothly.

He had to be ready.

Cici was calmer when they returned to the living room, but she still refused to let go of him. She sat on his lap with one hand clutching his shirt.

Every so often, she looked up at his face, and only relaxed a little when she saw him looking back.

Lucas did not try to pat her head or make light of it.

"What do you usually do around this time?" he asked.

Cici leaned against him and thought for a moment.

"Mommy reads picture books to me when she’s home," she said. "She sings songs with me, too. And sometimes we paint."

Her eyes brightened.

"Mommy sings really, really good."

Lucas looked down at her.

This was another thing he had not prepared for.

Evelyn knew how to fill Cici’s day. She knew which books Cici liked. She knew the songs. She knew how to make an ordinary afternoon feel safe.

Lucas knew none of that yet.

"What about when Mommy isn’t home?"

Cici’s voice got smaller.

"Sometimes I play by myself at home. Sometimes Nanny takes me outside in the stroller."

She pouted a little.

"Nanny doesn’t care about me like Mommy does."

Then she quickly added, "I like Daddy, too."

Lucas gently rubbed her head.

"I know."

Kids noticed things.

They noticed who listened, who hurried over, and who only did what they were paid to do.

A nanny could help. A nanny could even be good at her job.

But a nanny was not Mom or Dad.

Lucas looked around the living room.

Small couch.

Old coffee table.

Storage bins lined up against the wall.

A small table in the corner that doubled as a dining area.

It had been enough for him.

But it was not enough for Cici.

"Cici," Lucas said, lifting her into his arms, "Daddy’s taking you to look at a new apartment."

Cici blinked.

"A new apartment?"

"Yeah. This place is too small for us. Let’s find something better."

Cici’s eyes lit up.

"Okay! Okay!"

She wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Then Daddy has to buy lots of toys. Mommy’s house has lots of toys. Daddy’s house doesn’t even have one."

Lucas laughed.

"Yeah. We’ll buy toys."

He said it like it was that simple.

In his head, he added another item to the list.

Toys.

Books.

Crayons.

Maybe a little table.

He used to think being a father meant feeding his child, keeping her safe, and paying for things.

Now he was starting to understand.

Children needed everything.

Soon, Lucas straightened Cici’s clothes, combed through her tangled hair, and carried her out.

The hallway felt cool compared to the apartment.

As he locked the door, another thought came to him.

"System, does carrying Cici around count as exercise?"

The system replied.

If the total duration exceeds five minutes, it counts.

Lucas smiled.

Good.

With cooking, dishes, cleaning, walking, and carrying Cici around, hitting the daily Constitution limit should not be too hard.

When they left the building, Cici rested her chin on his shoulder.

"Daddy, are you tired?"

Lucas glanced at her.

"If Daddy’s tired, Cici can walk."

Lucas paused.

This kid.

A little while ago, she had cried because she thought he had left her. Now she was worried about tiring him out.

"Daddy’s not tired."

He kissed her cheek.

Cici giggled and hugged his neck.

The Grove was about a mile and a half away.

Lucas did not call a cab.

Cici was light, and he still had two Constitution points to earn today.

So he carried her.

Brooklyn was as busy as ever.

People streamed along the sidewalks. Cars rolled past in a steady line. At the next corner, a horn blared, and someone shouted back.

Lucas had walked this route before.

Back then, he had never paid attention to which stores looked kid-friendly. He had never noticed how long the crosswalk lights lasted. He had never checked whether the sidewalks were smooth enough for a stroller.

Now he saw all of it.

Same street.

Different life.