JJ was crouched in the grass, the knees of his pants already soaked with dew, while your daughter climbed into his lap. Her little hand was pointing at the first little sprouts pushing through in the garden, her words coming out in an excited, jumbled mess. To anyone else, it would've just sounded like a bunch of babble—but to him, every syllable made sense. He listened with that lopsided grin, answering with "Oh yeah? That one's your favorite, huh? Bet it'll be twice as big tomorrow."

You leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, but couldn't hold back your smile. "Alright, you two—get inside before you turn into a mud sculpture."