Eva

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Dr. Anderson sat across from me, smiling, as I told her about my latest gymnastics practice. I felt I was finally through an enormous fog. My mono had stuck around for a good five weeks. I'd done half days at school and watched as my sister bounded her way into placing second at the latest gymnastics meet. By the time I was cleared to go back, I was itching for action.

Dad was still making me good to therapy once a week, which was tolerable. It meant missing a gymnastics practice, but he said it was non-negotiable. I wasn't cutting any more. I got the urge every once in a while, but I was using my fidget cube.

"I'm proud of you," Dr. Anderson told me, which made me squirm a bit with pride. She said I'd made a lot of progress. I tended to make things seem like a much bigger deal than they were in my head. My illness had lasted about five weeks, but my mind was making it seem like the rest of my life. I was feeling better and I was back in the game. Life was good.

We finished up our session and I waited in the waiting room while she talked to my dad for a few minutes. When he emerged, he smiled proudly and put his arm around me.

"Good job, kiddo," he told me proudly. "Let's go get some ice cream."

We both got a cone and started walking through Central Park, just talking. I think I was closer to my dad than most girls my age. Part of that was because my mom had died. It had just been dad and us for quite a while. Luckily, my dad was pretty awesome. I'd seen other dads with their kids. My dad was way more affectionate and sweet. He spent a lot of time with us and we always knew we were loved.

"How are your muscles doing?" he asked me as we walked.

"Ugghh!" I complained between licks. "They hurt so bad. Taking five weeks off sucks."

"But was it the end of the world?" he posed, giving me a knowing smile.

"Noooo," I admitted, laughing.

"Mmmhmmm," he agreed. "You can get a bit intense. Like your mom used to."

I thought about that for a moment as we continued walking. There was a park bench nearby and we walked over to sit.

"How else am I like my mom?" I asked him, curious. It had been almost four years now since Mom had died. I still remembered a lot of things about her, but it had still been a little kid. I had changed. Dad looked at me for a moment.

"Well, you're very passionate about what interests you," he said. "She never gave up, like you."

I smiled at that. "What else?"

I felt his fingers play with my hair. "You look a lot like her. Same hair color. Same eyes."

I nodded and licked my ice cream. "Do you miss her?"

"Every day," he told me. "Time has helped a bit, but I'll always miss her. What about you?"

"I still miss her a lot," I admitted. "Especially when I see my friends with their moms."

"I bet that's hard," he said sympathetically. "But you've gotta remember there's lots of people in your life who care about you. Abuela and Abuelo. Pippa. All your brothers and sisters."

I nodded and took a bite into the cone. It crunched as I thought. "Do you love Pippa the same way you love Mom?"

Dad paused for several long moments and thought. I liked that he listened to me and took me seriously. When I asked him questions, he never dismissed them or said I wasn't old enough to understand.

"Not exactly," he said. "I love them both, but I met them at different stages of my life. I met your mom in college, and I met Pippa doing the show. I was kind of a different person with both of them, if that makes sense."

"Sorta," I said. He gave me a little smile and rubbed at my head. When I finished my cone, I snuggled up next to him as we watched people walk by. We didn't say anything for a long time - just dad and daughter sitting together, enjoying each other's company. After a good fifteen minutes or so, he kissed the top of my head.

"You ready?" he asked, sitting up.

"Yeah," I agreed, and we caught the subway up to Washington Heights. Home. We raced up the stairs, him knowing I still needed to work on my cardio. He was huffing at the top. I pushed my key into the lock and opened the door. We walked into a room full of love. Sebastian had his arm around Carmen on the couch, and she was laughing. She and her parents were on pretty good terms now. They even stayed the weekend a couple weeks back.

Rio was laying on his belly on the floor while Paco whimpered a little, protesting his tummy time. Mia had Amalia in her lap and was clapping her hands along with a song she was singing.

Pippa emerged, carrying yet another load of laundry. She smiled when she saw us. "How'd it go?"

I smiled at her. "Good. She says I'm making a lot of progress."

She set her laundry basket on the counter. "You are," she agreed, holding her arm open for me to step in. "I'm proud of you."

"Thanks, Pippa," I said. I saw Dad smiling. Pippa and I hadn't always gotten along, but I felt like I was at peace with our relationship now. I knew she loved me and wanted what was best for me. And me dad sure loved her and made her happy.

Pippa released me from the hug and I turned to look at my family. The Mirandas. We were big, and we were noisy, and we weren't quite right in the head, but we loved each other.

THE END

A/N: Thanks for reading! Not feeling a sequel on this one but let me know if you have ideas!

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