Page 54 of Lies and Lullabies
“The teacher said, but I forgot. The butterfly is sort of wet for a while after it comes out, and it has to just sit there getting dry before it can fly.”
“You know,” I told her, “babies are wet when they’re born. But I think a nurse just dries them off with a towel.”
Even as the words came out of my mouth, I knew I was saying a stupid thing. If I got Vivi going on the topic of babies, then she was bound to ask me where babies come from, and I did not have any fucking clue what people told four-year-olds aboutthat.
Kira would murder me, probably.
Vivi opened her little mouth to ask a question, and I braced myself. “Do you like grapes?”
“What?” I reeled from this abrupt change of topic. “Yeah. Yeah, I like grapes! Especially after someone has made them into wine. Or a nicely aged cognac.” I was blathering like an idiot, and another snort erupted from the other end of the room. But as long as we weren’t talking about babies and vaginas, it was probably okay.
“Do you want to eat your grapes, Vivi?” Kira called.
“Yep.”
Kira set a bowl of grapes at the dining table, and Vivi scampered over there to eat them.
I got up off the rug, relocating to the sofa. “Kira?” I asked softly. “Can I speak with you for a moment?”
Her expression was wary, but she made her way over to sit beside me. “What’s up?”
“Tomorrow night,” I whispered. “I want you and Vivi to come to the concert. And Adam, too.”
She pursed her lips, causing me to notice how pink and full they were. “Maybe we should wait until…”
“Until what? Don’t say court, because that’s only a formality. I just want to see you guys.” Since she still looked as if she was searching her brain for a good reason to decline, I kept talking. “I’m staying at the Waterfront, because that’s where the venue is. Why don’t you come at five? That way I can see you before the show. We go on at seven thirty. There wouldn’t be any waiting around—you’d get to your seats right before we play, and afterwards, Ethan would whisk you into a car.”
“Okay.” She was still frowning. “We’ll give it a shot. But if Vivi asks for beer or a blunt afterward, it’s going to be your fault.”
I barked out a laugh before I could think better of it, which brought Vivi running. “What?” she wanted to know.
“Your mama is funny,” I said, rising to my feet. “That’s all.”
“It’s okay to say someone is funny,” Vivi mused, “but not that they’re funny-looking. Because the teacher will give you a time-out.”
I held in my laughter this time. But just barely. “I have to go now. Have fun at the park.”
“You’re not coming to the swings?”
I shook my head. “I can’t. I have a meeting for work.”
“Like Uncle Adam.”
“Yeah, like that.” I took a step closer to Vivi. She reminded me of a little bird, hopping from idea to idea, alighting only briefly here and there. I knelt down again. “I’ll see you soon, Vivi. Maybe tomorrow.”
My daughter reached out and put her hands on my face, one on each cheek. “Okay.” Her fingertips tickled me.
Vivi was just so… disarming. Little kids didn’t know all the grownup rules about who you could touch. She didn’t know that you weren’t supposed to say exactly what you wanted, and instead bury your desires under ten layers of self-doubt. Vivi let it all hang out.
When exactly had I stopped doing that? And why?
I gave her one more smile, then got up to go.
Kira followed me to the door, her expression unreadable. “Thank you,” she said, and then her face softened. “I guess we’ll see you tomorrow night.”
Without thinking, I leaned in and kissed her temple. The moment we connected, I inhaled the citrus scent of her shampoo. It was so familiar that I wanted to weep.
Kira went absolutely still at my touch. So I lingered a half beat longer than was friendly. But goddamn it, I wanted to pull her into my arms and kiss her for real. And maybe I would have, but Vivi was right there on the rug, adjusting her dollies.
