Page 107 of Bountiful
Oh. Now she was making sense. My own childhood was my least favorite topic in the whole entire world. Judging from the expression on Zara’s face, this wasn’t a fun chat for her,either.
But she went on. “Nicole is just a baby, and, when she’s bigger, she won’t remember the summer her father showed up for two months.” She took a deep breath and met my eyes. “You can swing by and let Bess visit for an hour, and it doesn’t mean a thing to Nicole. Even if Bess buys out every baby outfit inDetroit.”
Which shemight.
“But it’s like this—someday Nicole is going to turn ten. She has a spring birthday—Mayseventh…”
We both glanced over at our daughter. And I tried and failed to imagine our baby girl as an auburn-haired fifthgrader.
“Audrey will probably make her a cake with Wonder Woman on it—or whatever is trending that year.” Zara gave me a fragile smile. “Right here in this kitchen, maybe.” She tapped thecountertop.
“Right.” I was stillfollowing. “Okay.”
“But here’s the thing I want you to think about.” She let out a shaky breath. “On her birthday, she should already know where she stands with you. You’re either in her life, at that point, oryou’renot.”
Oh.
She reached out and grabbed my hand. “Don’t make herwonder.Don’t make her sit there and stare at the phone, unsure if you’re going to call her to say,HappyBirthday.”
Zara turned her face away. But before she did, I saw the tears in her eyes. And my heart broke for her in a way it hadn’t before. Maybe I had a thick head, but it wasn’t thick enough to prevent me from understanding that this little scenario Zara had spun was deeply personaltoher.
I reached for her hand, then lifted one of her palms to my mouth andkissedit.
She swallowed hard, but didn’t look at me. “A kid can do fine without a dad in her life. Really.” She let out a shaky breath. “You don’t have to stick around, Dave. But donotmake my little girl sit there by the phone andhopeshe’s been a good enough girl that year to get five minutes of your time on herbirthday.”
Fuck. My throat was tighter than it had ever been. “Okay, sweetheart,” I croaked. “I get it.” I didn’t plan to do that to Nicole. But listening to Zara describe her pain, I could totally understand how she wore thosescars.
That’s when I finally understood how complicated we really were as a couple. If things didn’t work out between us, it could break three hearts, allatonce.
“You…” She swallowed hard again. “You don’t need to be her daddy. She has a lot of family already. If you don’t want to be involved, I’ll understand. But I need you need to figure it out before she’s old enough to ask me if she has a dadornot.”
“I can do that,” Iwhispered.
Finally, she turned to look at me again. “It’s only been a few weeks. You’re probably still reeling. She won’t remember this summer, Dave. But she won’t be a babyforever.”
“All right,” I said gently. I reached for her, and pulled her into a hug. “I hear you. I’m not going to do that to her. I promise. Can youtrustme?”
She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I can. But I need you to take some time and figure yourself out. A lot has happened in the last few weeks. You’ve been great. But you’re still on vacation. Everything is always better on vacation. It’s notreallife.”
It felt pretty fucking real to me, and I opened my mouth to say so. But she beat metoit.
“All I want is for you to think things over. When you go back to New York, your life will swallow you up,right?”
“Well,sure,but…”
She held up a hand. “Go back. Do your thing for a while. Think things over. Figure out how much of yourself you can give your daughter. It’s important to me, because I know it will be importanttoher.”
“Okay,” I whispered. Her hand was shaking in mine. “Come here.” I tugged hercloser.
She came willingly, resting her cheek against my collarbone. She sighed, as if wrung out from getting all that off herchest.
I kissed her forehead. And her skin felt so good against my lips that I did it again. I held on tightly, pulling her closer. I wanted to press away her fear and her pain—extinguish it between our twobodies.
But that’s when Nicole decided she’d had enough food and began to flail her arms and squawk forfreedom.
“Right,” Zara said gently, stepping out of my embrace to gather food scraps from where they’d fallen beneath the baby chair. “Real lifecalls.”
Real life was pretty great, though. I leaned over the counter, unclipped the baby, and pulled Nicole out of her seat. “Okay, baby girl. Let’s go outside and try out your newbackyard.”
