The Word of a Child. Janice Johnson Kay
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right.” Mariah hoped and prayed Simon did, that he would always put the child they shared first.
One more sniff, and her petite daughter straightened, lifted her chin and said with resolution, “I’m okay.”
Mariah smiled, hoping her tears didn’t show. “Good.”
Zofie cocked her head. “Is that Daddy? Did you hear a knock?”
“No, but let’s go see.” Mariah grabbed the child’s suitcase from the bed and hurried with Zofie to the front door.
Opening it, her daughter cried, “Daddy!” with complete delight, as if she hadn’t just been bemoaning the necessity of seeing him.
Mariah stood back watching as he bent and lifted Zofie into his arms, a grin warming his saturnine face. For a moment he was the handsome man she had married, his dark hair tousled, his thin nose and wonderful cheekbones making him movie-star handsome. She had the jarring sensation of a temporal shift, as if this was once-upon-a-time, and he was just coming home from work, and he’d be looking up and smiling at her any minute…
Instead, over Zofie’s dark curls, his cold gaze met hers. “I take it she’s ready?”
Mariah forced a smile. “Yup. Zofie’s all packed.”
“Wait!” She wriggled in his arms. “I’ve got stuff to play with. I left it in the hall.”
“Run and get it.” He let her down and bent to pick up her suitcase.
The silence felt uncomfortable. Trying to sound friendly, Mariah asked, “Do you have any plans this weekend?”
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