The sun was sinking low, painting the western sky in shades of pink and orange, when there came the sound of small footsteps inside the house. A little girl bound barefoot through the door, paused briefly, her face lighting at the sight of her father. She rushed to his arms, squealing with delight as he lifted her high into the air.
Her husband followed onto the porch, reached forward to accept the father's hand. "Thank you," the man said through tears. "Thank you so much. Please, allow me to pay you."
Her husband waved the notion away, a gesture she'd seen many times before. "No need," he said. "Be a good father to that little girl."
"I will" said the father. "I will." He turned to the woman. "Thank you." He then walked down the steps into the street, the little girl waving over his shoulder.
She watched them go, the father and the little girl. It was the right thing to do, she realized. You were right. It was the right thing. She felt her husband's gaze upon her now, his gentle smile directed toward her.
"May I help you?" he asked. "I don't believe we've met."
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