Page 92 of Give & Take

“You watch other movies,” Nova says, still not breaking eye contact with the screen, even when her mom shoots her a look.

Lana wants this. But she’s afraid of something. Of letting herself go, I think. Of handing over her ‘keeping it togetherness’ and just falling apart. For all her stiffness, she’s trembling slightly. I can see it even from here.

“Stay with us,” I say. It’s not a question. “Please.” It’s blackmail to insist like this, I know, but she needs this as much as the kids.

Nova tears her eyes from the screen. “Will you?” she asks her mom, with uncharacteristic vulnerability.

That’s her Achilles heel, her kids needing her. And I can tell from Nova’s tone that she’s being sincere. She wants her mom, too.

“Okay,” Lana says, her voice tight. She sets her laptop down on the island. “But just for a bit.”

Lana looks at me as she settles down next to Nova.Her eldest climbs up and plops herself onto her mom’s lap. She may be eight, and sometimes acts thirteen, but she’s still her baby girl.

Lana’s eyes go watery as she kisses Nova’s head, squeezing her so tight her daughter makes a fake gagging noise.

“Sorry,” she whispers, loosening her grip. Lana looks briefly at the gap between us, then at me.

“Come here, Sunshine.” I hold my arm out, giving her permission.

She hesitates only a moment before jiggling her and Nova over.

It’s another full minute before I feel her relax just a little.

When she does, I curl my arm around Lana’s head and gently tip her in so she’s resting against me. “We’re okay,” I whisper in her ear.

She looks up at me, her eyes glassy. “Are you sure?”

“I promise,” I say. I kiss her forehead.

The girls don’t notice any of this. They laugh while an animated lion plays with its siblings in the dirt.

Lana looks to the screen, her cheeks slightly flushed. “You sure this was the best choice?” she whispers after a moment, looking at the big cats.

I laugh softly. As usual, I made a decision without thinking it out. But it worked out in that way instinctive things do. The girls laugh at the funny parts and Lana finally fully softens againstme.

Yes.

I’m sure.

I wake up sometime later to the soft sound of crying. My adrenaline boost must have run out almost immediately after I hit play. Blinking, disorientated, I look to the girls. Aurora has migrated to the floor, where she’s lying on her stomach, chin in her hands. Her legs are kicking happily. Nova, meanwhile, is sprawled at the other end of the couch, rapt.

That leaves only?—

I turn to see Lana, leaned up next to me, her lip wobbling, eyes spilling with tears. She wipes at them furiously. “Stop looking at me!”

I purse my lips to hide my smile. “Lana,” I whisper. “This isn’t a sad part.”

“Yes it is!” she hisses. “His dad just loves him so much and he doesn’t even know it and—” And the stoic, straight-laced Lana covers her eyes and bursts into tears.

“Oh sweetheart,” I say, laughing softly as I pull her in even closer, both arms around her shaking form.

“This is why I don’t watch these stupid movies!” she exclaims between sobs.

“I never would have guessed.”

“Guessed what?”

“That you’re an absolute sap.”

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