This is the coolest weird day I've ever had. The June sun is shining down on us and there's a light breeze, filling the air with the irresistible scent of the ocean, like most every other day spent on the beach.

But today is... well, different.

Having never celebrated Father's Day with my own father, this is literally the first time I've actually put any stock into the idea of this holiday, and Mia went all out.

With every passing day, she and I create a clear, irreplaceable bond toward what the world would properly deem the relationship between a father and a daughter. But even despite that connection we've been building, despite how much she and Amber already feel like family to me, I didn't see this coming.

I didn't know Mia was going to put this day together. For me.

It started with breakfast. With Amber's help, she made my favorites. Sausage and egg sandwich on a fresh buttery biscuit, a steaming hot cup of coffee, and cheesy hashbrowns.

She watched me clear my plate, eager and excited, like she couldn't contain her happiness as her plan unfolded. She was thrilled to have been the one who made me breakfast the way her mom usually does, proud of herself for making everything look just right. She sat across from me, jumping out of her skin, looking equal parts thrilled and nervous, but she had nothing to be nervous about.

Everything was amazing.

Now we're at the beach. We just finished a family bike ride along the boardwalk and we're settling into a private spot in the sand. Mia and Amber are unloading a picnic basket full of goodies, Stella's frolicking by the water, and I've been instructed to sit back and relax. That feels foreign to me, my body twitches for activity, but I'm letting myself enjoy the moment.

Mia's blonde hair blows in the breeze as she reaches into the basket and pulls out a container of fresh fruit, looking all lost in her thoughts. Hands busy, eyes darting over everything she's laid out, and organizing it on the blanket some more. I can't help wondering if she's nervous again. And if she is, what the heck has got her so out of sorts?

It's not easy to make this kid nervous. Or stray her from her norm in any other way, for that matter. She's a solid one, walking around in a bubble of sweetness, holding a touch of sass, more than a handful of confidence, and just the right amount of calm.

I think I've only seen her lose her cool once, as an injustice played out on the baseball field and she needed to make sure the guilty party was aware of the wrongdoing. Other than that, she's always so chill and it takes a lot to ruffle her feathers.

When it comes to the nerves, she's a lot like me. Always sure of herself, ready to take on anything, and I think she's seen that similarity in the two of us. I'm not trying to pat myself on the back here, but I think it's helped her grow in her own confidence over the last couple years and, I won't lie, that fills me with pride.

I'll never tell her that her mother made me a puddle of anxiety when we first properly met, and continues to unravel me to this day. But Mia will certainly find that out sometime in the distant future, when somebody tries to sweep her off her own feet.

When she's thirty. Or never. Never would be fine with me.

My eyes travel to Amber, enjoying the way her own long hair is flying free in the spring wind, the smell of her coconut shampoo infiltrating my senses like a warm hug. She's so fucking beautiful, inside and out, I still don't know how I scored such perfection in my life.

I'm ready to give her a questioning look about what's going on with our girl. But she's exchanging a look with said girl, and I watch as her eyebrows drift up for a second, followed by a nod, before her eyes drift over to me with a smile.

What the heck is going on here?

Amber's hand comes down to give my knee a squeeze. "I'm gonna try and convince Stella to come back for lunch," she says softly, coming to her feet before I have the chance to object or ask what's going on with the shift in energy.

She gives Mia's hair a little brush as she passes by, and I watch her as she walks toward the water. But then, beside me, Mia clears her throat. Sensing that something important is about to happen, I give her my full attention.

"Tommy," she says, and her voice is surprisingly firm. Determined. "I made something for you."

"Okay, kiddo." I find myself pulling in a deep breath and holding it. I don't even know why.

Reaching beside her, Mia grabs something from the bottom of the picnic basket, a folded paper. She holds it up against her heart for a second, looking me straight in the eyes, before handing it to me.

The first thing I notice is the badge. She's become an expert at drawing them, fascinated with my job, thrilled any time she meets one of my coworkers. Her eyes always bounce to the shining emblem on my chest when she sees me in uniform.

She's drawn all the details of mine. The name of my precinct, the number, the banner with California written on it. She even used glitter crayon to make it shiny.

Upon closer inspection, I can see the whole face of this card is a collared shirt, buttons drawn down the center, my badge situated on the left side.

Then I see the words. And my heart skips a beat.

Happy Father's Day, Tommy.

This is a Father's Day card. A Father's Day card with my name on it. Holy shit.

My chest squeezes and my eyes drift up to hers. She's watching me carefully for a reaction. I wonder if she can tell I'm about to cry.

"Mia, this is..." I begin, but I can't seem to finish. Looking back down at the card, I open it up to see the inside. There's a printed message with spaces where Mia has filled in the blanks with her choice of words.

Dear Tommy,

I love you more than hot chocolate because you are so awesome. My favorite thing to do with you is play baseball. I think you are amazing because you make mommy happy. You make me laugh when you tell silly jokes and roll on the floor with Stella. I know you love me because you play with me. And I love you because you take care of me and mommy.

Love,

Mia

I stare down at the words, read them through once. Twice. A third time, for good measure.

Is this real life?

"Do you like it?" Mia's tiny voice tiptoes past my ears, interrupting my struggle to keep it together. I can't remember the last time I felt like blubbering like a baby the way I'm tempted to right now.

My head bobs up and down as I give her a smile, holding the paper close to my heart, just like she did before handing it to me. "I love it, kiddo. You have no idea how much this means to me."

Her smile makes a fool of the mid-day sun. Her presence, alone, is astounding. She makes the flowers look a bit more vibrant, the ocean seem a bit more blue, makes my life a whole lot happier and bright. This girl adds so much color to my world.

"There's more," she says softly, her voice filling with another touch of those nerves that have been chasing her all day long. I guess I know why now. "I know I'm not your real daughter but you kind of feel like my real dad sometimes. And I wanted to know if it's okay if I..." She pauses, looks down at the blanket and brushes some sand off of it. Keeping her hands busy again. "If I call you that. Call you Dad."

Her eyes drift back to mine on those last three words and I know all she can see is my smile, because her whole demeanor shifts once more and her own gigantic smile matches mine. The amount of joy and utter fucking giddiness that's taking over me is indescribable, and I'm glad she seems to feel it, too. It's one thing to see her as a daughter, but it's another thing entirely to know she sees me as a dad. And hearing her say that one word has me struggling once more to keep it together.

When I hold my hands out in front of me, hers fall right into mine and I squeeze them tight. "If that's what you want to call me sometimes or all the time," I begin, the words choking out with untamed emotion. "Anytime you'd like. I would be really really cool with that, Mia. Because even though I'm not your real dad, you feel just like a real daughter to me. Always."

Mia lunges at me, wrapping her little arms around my neck and squeezing until I almost can't breathe. And I don't even give a shit. This moment is everything to me, one I'll never forget.

For a day that never meant a thing to me before, all it took was this moment to change my entire view, and I know I'll see things differently for the rest of my life where Mia is concerned.

I knew that would happen. I've felt it happening for a long time, ever since I first found out that Amber had a daughter. She was a packaged deal, wrapped up in a pretty bow with an awesome kid like Mia in tow. As soon as I fell in love with her, I knew my life was going to be different, that my responsibilities would be great, in the position of a bonus parent.

But that was a role I was fully willing to step into because Mia is amazing. And I knew that with all the difficult and tricky parts, it would also come with a profound amount of love and incomparable happiness. Still, though, I didn't know it would feel quite like this.

Over Mia's shoulder, my eyes meet Amber's gaze as she stands by the water, observing the moment that just unfolded with a watery smile. I feel indescribably grateful to her right now. She knows about the love and the happiness because they were hers first. But she's sharing it with me, and I've never been more honored.

I hold Mia a little bit tighter, more thankful than she'll ever know for giving me the best first Father's Day I've ever had.

.....

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