Desi looked at me expectantly.
“So,” she said, “what are your questions?”
I chuckled. “I thought we were talking about whatever you wanted.”
“We are.”
I waited.
“Right now, I want to talk about your questions.”
I snorted. “You really are your mother’s daughter.”
She grinned. “Persistent?”
“If that’s what you want to call it.”
Desi laughed.
“Fine,” I conceded. “First question. How do you feel now that it’s done? Do you feel ready for all of this?”
“I think so,” she said with little hesitation. “I mean, I know we’ll have to figure stuff out, but yeah. I’m ready.”
“Good. So, what’s next? What do you want your life to look like?”
She thought about it for a moment. “We’re kinda making it up as we go.”
“Fair.”
“I just know I want Josh in everything.”
I smiled, remembering exactly what that felt like. My yoga career had just ramped up, and I had decided to conquer my fears by getting serious with Sophia. I had no clue what was around the bend but knew for certain that as long as she was with me, I could face anything. That younger version of me—the one who never wanted to leave her side—was thrilled for Desi. But he wasn’t a father yet.
We walked a little farther before I asked my next question. “Okay. Practical Dad question.”
Desi groaned. “That sounds less fun already.”
“You know I have to.”
“What is it?” she asked carefully.
“Where are you planning to live?”
She blinked. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.”
“We haven’t really talked about that yet.”
I nodded. “I told you before you’re welcome to stay with us as long as you need to.”
She smiled. “I know.”
“I meant that when I said it. I love having you around.” I hesitated. “But I also think married people should have their own house.”
Desi gasped and dramatically pressed a hand to her chest. I immediately regretted everything.
“Desi … Please don’t.”
“That’s veeeeery interesting coming from you.”
The second the word interesting left her mouth, I knew I’d made a mistake.
“So after years of being sent to bed early for reasons that became increasingly obvious as I got older…”
I squeezed my eyes shut, preparing for impact.
“…I’m suddenly the problem?” she asked.
“That’s not what I said.”
“It’s exactly what you said.”
“Is not.”
“Is too!”
I rubbed a hand over my face. “Desi, I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“But I also think everyone involved would benefit from separate addresses.”
She burst out laughing. Then she pointed at me like a lawyer who had just won her case.
“There’s the real reason,” she said.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, quickening my pace.
“Liar,” she called after me.
I stopped long enough for her to catch up. “Prove it.”
She flashed a grin that looked entirely too much like her mother’s. “I don’t have to.”
She certainly did not. I raised a smart kid, and somehow she’d decided to use her powers for evil. The audacity.
We kept walking, both of us still smiling, and I felt something loosen that had been tight since yesterday morning. Not all the way. But enough. The conversation had started with housing, but once the laughter settled, my mind went right back there. They used my dad’s house for… an event I had no intention of revisiting in greater detail. I still wondered why that place mattered to her. Was it because of my dad? The blue eyes connection? Family history? I considered asking. Then I immediately imagined accidentally steering us back into a conversation about newly liberated young adults that I had absolutely no desire to participate in. Nope. Some mysteries were better left unsolved. I tried a different approach.
I cleared my throat. “So…” I said casually. “You like that house?”
Desi looked surprised by the question. “Grandpa’s house?”
“Yeah.”
“I do. It’s really cute.”
Despite all the bravado from last night about her being grown and needing to figure it out, I caved. Let’s face it. There wasn’t much I wouldn’t do for this girl. Besides, Dad had left us that house for exactly this reason, and Alessia didn’t want it. The house had always been meant to stay in the family.
“You can have it if you want,” I said.
Desi stopped walking. “What?”
“The house. It’s yours.”
“Daddy…”
“You don’t have to take it. I know it’s smaller than what you’re used to.”
“It’s fine, Daddy. You know I don’t care about stuff like that.”
I did know. And honestly, hearing her say it made me absurdly proud. Not because I doubted her but because every parent spends a little bit of time wondering whether the lessons actually stuck. Apparently they had.
“There’s one condition, though.”
Her eyes narrowed immediately.
“I’m taking all that furniture out.”
“What?”
“You and Josh need to furnish it yourselves.”
“But why? It’s already set up.”
“Because it’s your house now.”
“But, Daddyyyy…” she whined.
“Nope. You two are grown. You’re starting a new life together. You should make the place your own.”
She sighed dramatically. “Fiiiine.”
“I’ll do a light renovation, but that’s it.”
That earned a much softer response. “Alright.”
Out of nowhere, something I was supposed to revisit years ago popped back into my head.
“I don’t know if you remember this, but we were supposed to have a conversation about being rich versus being comfortable.”
Desi’s eyes widened. “Oh yeah!”
“You asked me if we were rich before we won the lottery.”
She laughed. “Only took you four years.”
“Listen. I’ve been busy.”
“Mmm hmm.”
I smiled. “When you asked me that question, I don’t think you were actually asking if we were rich.”
Desi looked over at me. “What was I asking then?”
I thought about it for a moment. “I think you were trying to understand why our life looked different than other people’s.”
She nodded slowly. “Hmm … Yeah, I think you’re right.”
“I grew up in two very different worlds. Life with my mom was comfortable. Nice house. Nice neighborhood. If I needed something, she usually found a way to make it happen. But she also made sure I understood where those things came from. We had chores. Responsibilities. Gratitude wasn’t optional.”
Desi giggled.
“Then I’d go to my dad’s house.”
She immediately shook her head. “No TV.”
I nodded. “No TV.”
“That still blows my mind.”
“Mine too. But here’s the thing. My mom wasn’t rich. And my dad wasn’t a failure because he struggled.”
My smile faded slightly as an old memory surfaced. “There was a period where those differences bothered him. One day he made a comment about a birthday gift Mama gave Less. It wasn’t really about the gift. Looking back, I think he felt embarrassed. Maybe even inadequate because he wasn’t able to provide the same things for us.”
I shrugged. “Whatever the reason, it created confusion where there hadn’t been any before.”
“How so?”
“I never thought much about money before then. Mom’s house had all the stuff and dad’s didn’t. That’s just how it was.” I kicked a pebble off the path. “But after that, it felt like I was supposed to have an opinion about it.”
Desi was quiet. But finally, she said, “That sounds exhausting.”
“It was. And completely unnecessary.” I glanced over at her. “There’s no glory in struggle. And there’s no shame in having enough. Whatever ‘enough’ is, it’s different for everyone.”
I pointed toward the houses surrounding the lake. “People spend so much time chasing more that they never stop to ask whether they already have what they need.”
I peeked at Desi. A few years ago, she might’ve rolled her eyes at a speech like this. Now she was actually listening. And she seemed to agree with me. Somewhere along the way, my little girl had become a reasonable adult.
Desi followed my gaze. “Yeah. Honestly, you guys were kinda weird about the lottery.”
“Weird?”
“Most people win a million dollars and immediately lose their minds.”
I laughed. “Very true.” I shrugged. “What can I say? We already liked our life.”
That answer seemed to surprise her.
“I mean, sure. We upgraded a few things. Took some nice vacations. Made sure everybody was taken care of. But I already had everything I wanted. You. Your mom. Our house.”
“Three houses,” she corrected.
I chuckled. “One doesn’t count.”
“It absolutely counts.”
“Fine. Three houses.”
Desi looked entirely too pleased with herself. I shook my head yet again.
“My point is, what exactly was I supposed to change? Move to Del Sol Valley and start hanging out with celebrities?”
Desi snorted. “I’d pay to watch that.”
“Could you imagine? The truth is, I’ve lived with plenty, and I’ve lived with very little. Somewhere along the way, I figured out what ‘enough’ looked like for me.”
Standing there beside her, I was starting to realize Desi had figured it out too.
“I think that’s what I wanted to tell you all those years ago.” I looked out across the lake again. “Being comfortable means your needs are met and a bad month doesn’t become a crisis. Rich means you have options most people don’t. But neither one means you’ll automatically be happy. That’s something you have to figure out before the money shows up.”
Desi slowed her pace for a moment and considered my words. “So you were like this even before the money tree?”
I smiled. “Exactly. All I ever wanted was your mom and house #1 so we could have you.” I shrugged. “That was my definition of enough. What more could I want?”
We started walking again. Then Desi flashed another cheeky grin.
“Two more houses.”
I laughed. “You’re never letting that go, are you?”
“Nope!”
