14. Summer
14
SUMMER
T he living room was a mess of toy blocks, stuffed animals, and half-finished drawings. Ava had claimed the coffee table as her personal art studio, and crayon shavings covered every surface. Bunny sat propped up on a chair, overseeing the chaos like a tiny foreman.
I didn’t have the energy to clean up. Instead, I leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping my coffee as I kept one eye on Ava. She was humming to herself, completely absorbed in her latest masterpiece—a castle for Bunny, complete with a dragon.
The knock at the door startled me.
I frowned, glancing at the clock. It wasn’t late, but I hadn’t been expecting anyone. Setting my mug down, I crossed the room and opened the door.
“Enzo?”
He stood there with a grin, holding a large, flat package wrapped in bright paper.
“Hey,” he said. “Is Ava home?”
“She’s always home,” I said, still confused. “What’s this?”
“Something I thought she’d like,” he said, stepping inside.
I raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know,” he said with a shrug. “I wanted to.”
Before I could respond, Ava’s voice rang out. “Enzo!”
She darted across the room, skidding to a stop in front of him. Her eyes widened when she saw the package in his hands. “What’s that?”
“This,” Enzo said, crouching down to her level, “is a surprise for you. But you have to promise to take good care of it.”
“I promise!” she said eagerly, bouncing on her toes.
“Okay,” he said, handing it to her. “Open it.”
Ava ripped into the paper with the kind of excitement only a four-year-old could muster. Her little gasp of delight filled the room as the gift was revealed: a colorful wooden puzzle with hundreds of pieces.
“It’s a castle!” she exclaimed, her fingers running over the illustration on the box. “Just like mine!”
“It’s a special puzzle,” Enzo said, his grin widening. “When you put it together, it makes a big castle that you can play with.”
Ava’s face lit up, and she turned to him with wide eyes. “Really?”
“Really,” he said. “Think you can handle it?”
“Yes!” she said, clutching the box tightly. “Can we do it now?”
Enzo chuckled. “Let’s do it.”
They spread the puzzle pieces out on the coffee table, pushing aside crayons and drawings to make room. I stayed in the kitchen, sipping my coffee and pretending not to watch.
Ava was already diving into the pile, sorting pieces by color and shape.
“Start with the edges,” Enzo said, pointing to a few pieces. “That’s how you build the frame.”
“I know,” Ava said confidently. “I’m really good at puzzles.”
“I’ve heard,” he said with a smile. “But this one’s pretty tricky. Think you can teach me a thing or two?”
“Yep!” Ava said, her little hands moving quickly as she pieced together part of the border.
Enzo watched her with genuine admiration, his own hands moving slower as he worked on his side of the puzzle. They chatted easily, their conversation a mix of laughter and Ava’s endless stream of observations.
I couldn’t stop watching.
It wasn’t just the way Ava lit up around him—it was the way Enzo responded to her. He was patient, encouraging, and completely focused on her. He wasn’t doing this for show; he genuinely wanted to be there with her, building something together.
“She’s got you beat,” I said lightly, stepping into the room.
Enzo glanced up, his grin playful. “She’s definitely faster than me.”
“I’m the fastest,” Ava declared, holding up a completed section of the puzzle.
“She’s not wrong,” Enzo said, winking at her.
I sat on the edge of the couch, watching as they worked. Enzo asked Ava questions about her drawings, her favorite colors, and what kind of castle Bunny needed to live in. She answered each one with the kind of enthusiasm only a child could muster.
When they finished the frame, Ava clapped her hands triumphantly. “We did it!”
“You did most of it,” Enzo said.
“You helped,” Ava said seriously.
“Teamwork,” he said with a smile.
They kept going, piece by piece, until the puzzle started to take shape. I stayed quiet, letting them bond. Watching them together filled me with a mix of emotions I couldn’t quite name.
It was so easy for them. So natural.
And that scared me.
Enzo fit into Ava’s life seamlessly, like he’d always been there. And Ava adored him. Every time she looked at him, her little face lit up with trust and affection.
Was it fair to keep him at arm’s length? Was it fair to keep the truth from him when he was so clearly ready to be a part of her life?
I shook the thought away, focusing on the scene in front of me.
When the last piece clicked into place, Ava threw her arms into the air. “We did it!”
The completed puzzle was beautiful—a colorful castle with turrets, flags, and a drawbridge.
“It’s perfect,” Ava said, her voice full of wonder.
“You did an amazing job,” Enzo said, giving her a high-five.
“We did,” she corrected, beaming.
Enzo laughed. “Fair enough.”
As Ava started arranging her toys around the puzzle castle, I stood and started tidying up the scattered puzzle pieces. Enzo joined me, his expression thoughtful.
“She’s incredible,” he said softly.
“She is,” I agreed.
“She’s so smart and creative,” he continued. “And she has the biggest heart. You’ve done an amazing job raising her, Summer.”
“Thank you,” I said, my voice tight.
He paused, studying me. “You don’t have to do it all alone, you know.”
I looked away, my chest tightening. “I’m used to it.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to keep doing it,” he said gently.
I didn’t respond, unsure of what to say.
As Enzo got ready to leave, Ava ran up to him, throwing her arms around his legs. “Thank you for the puzzle, Enzo!”
“You’re welcome,” he said, crouching to hug her back. “I’m glad you liked it.”
“I love it,” she said, her voice muffled against his shoulder.
He smiled, ruffling her hair before standing. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Okay!” Ava said, waving as he headed for the door.
I followed him, hesitating as he opened it.
“Thank you,” I said quietly.
He turned to me, his gaze steady. “For what?”
“For… everything,” I said, struggling to find the right words.
He nodded, his smile soft. “You don’t have to thank me, Summer. I’m just doing what feels right.”
As he walked out into the night, I watched him go, the weight of his words lingering in the air.