She said the word like it was the ultimate answer and within it he could find any truth he might seek. Her eyes shone with laughter at the look on his face and he smiled back. He hadn’t been sure about being a father and still lost sleep most nights worrying about whether he was doing a good job, but when Molly laughed it felt right. It felt like home.
“Tacos it is then!” He said it like he was introducing a rock band and the response was no less enthusiastic.
Above them the train clattered along it’s tracks and the bridge shook like an over sized dog who’s just escaped a bath tub. Out beyond the overpass the rain came down in heavy sheets muffling sound and painting the world in great splotches of grey like some monochromatic impressionist painting. But for now at least they were warm, dry, and had enough to eat for dinner. As far as his little girl was concerned nothing else mattered.
As he pulled the pans out of his backpack and lit up the little butane stove he thought to himself:
One more day. We can do this, just one more day.