Invisible String

28

The next morning started way too early for my liking.

Mira was up before the sun, teething misery in full swing. I’d already rocked her, fed her, rubbed her gums, and paced the hall with her pressed against my shoulder like a little baby barnacle. By the time Travis came out of the bedroom, stretching in his sweats, I was standing in the kitchen half-asleep with Mira strapped to my chest and a cold cup of coffee on the counter.

“Morning,” he said softly, eyes immediately going to the baby. “How’s the little piranha?”

“She tried to bite me again during her feeding,” I mumbled, rubbing my temple. “Twice.”

He winced. “Yikes.”

“She’s lucky I love her.” I kissed her soft curls anyway.

Travis came up and kissed the top of my head. “You’re lucky I love you. Sit down, I’ll take her for a while.”

I handed Mira off, and she gave the tiniest whimper before nuzzling into his chest like he was the favorite today. Traitor. I settled on the couch, finally drinking a fresh coffee, watching as he bounced her gently and started humming some random country song under his breath. It was so normal and so sweet that my heart actually ached a little.

Lily came down a few minutes later, dragging her blanket behind her, hair a tangled mess. “Is Mira still bitey?”

“Very,” I said with a half-laugh.

Lily climbed onto the couch beside me and snuggled in, warm and still sleepy. “I don’t want teeth. They sound mean.”

I laughed softly and tucked her in close. “You’ve had teeth for a while now, baby.”

She frowned. “Yeah, but mine never bit you.”

“Well, I appreciate that,” I smiled, brushing her hair back. “You’re my peaceful girl.”

“Not like Mira,” she muttered, eyes on her sister now curled against Travis.

“Nope,” I agreed. “Mira’s chaos. But she’s our chaos.”

And just like that, it was another quiet morning in the Kelce house. Tired, loud, and full of love.

By the time breakfast was halfway started—Travis flipping pancakes while Mira sat content in her bouncer gnawing on a silicone teether—I felt like we were finally finding our rhythm again.

Lily had perked up and was coloring at the table, legs swinging under her chair as she hummed some melody she’d made up. I was chopping strawberries, hoping Mira would be distracted enough not to scream through the entire meal.

“I think we survived the worst of the morning,” I said to Travis, who raised an eyebrow.

“You’re jinxing us,” he warned, flipping a pancake with too much flair.

And right on cue, Mira let out a shriek. I turned to look—just in time to see her little body twist in frustration and launch the teether across the floor. Then she looked directly at me and started crying again.

Travis groaned. “You spoke it into existence.”

I laughed dryly, walking over to pick up the teether and rinse it in the sink. “I’ve officially become the human pacifier.”

“Hot,” Travis teased under his breath, just loud enough for me to hear.

I gave him a sharp side glance. “Careful. I’m sleep-deprived and hormonal.”

He winked. “Just saying.”

I knelt down in front of Mira, who reached out for me immediately, her tiny fists grabbing at my shirt. I sighed and scooped her up again, her crying easing as soon as her cheek touched my collarbone.