“Hey, kiddo!” Jim laughed, nearly dropping the groceries, and swept her up into the air.

“Look what I smuggled in.

Strawberry.

For after dinner, which means you have to eat the dinner first, those are the rules, I don’t make the rules.”

“You do make the rules, you just said—”

“Details,” he said, and tickled her until she squealed.

I leaned against the counter with a mug of coffee and watched them, my brother and my daughter, laughing together in the bright spring light, and I felt something in my chest that it took me a moment to recognize because it had been so long — uncomplicated happiness, with no shadow behind it and no cost attached.

Jim came around for dinner most weeks now.