Page 56 of Lies and Lullabies
I’d read only one chapter when I heard a tap on the door. Then it opened, and Jonas stuck his head around the door frame. I saw him take us in, curled up on the sofa. When he smiled, my stomach swooped and dived.
This was why I hadn’t wanted to stay here tonight. We’d spent exactly one night under the same roof together, and it had set quite a precedent.
But that was all your doing, I reminded myself. So as long as I didn’t throw myself at the guy this time, all would be well.
“Hi, ladies,” Jonas said, closing the door after entering the room. “I’m sorry I was late.”
“S’okay,” Vivi said. “There are cookies. But Mama only lets you have one.”
Jonas grinned. “It’s almost dinner time, though. The food will be here in a few minutes.”
“Food?” Vivi asked, climbing off the couch. “What kind?”
“Hmm,” Jonas said, pretending to think. “Ethan said the food had to be stirred up. Like this.” He grabbed Vivi under the arms, then quickly spun her around in a circle.
Vivi let out a shriek at a pitch that only a little girl can achieve.
I caught myself smiling, the back of my throat strangely hot. I’d always wondered what the two of them would look like together.
Happy. That’s how they looked.
Someone knocked on the door. “Room service!”
I jumped up to open it, and a bellman rolled a cart into the room.
Vivi was dizzy. She took a swaying step and crashed into Jonas’s leg. The hand he dropped to her back to steady her was so natural that I couldn’t help but stare.
“But we already have a table,” Vivi said. “It’s right there.”
The bellman winked. “Now you have two.” He began placing dishes onto the dining table, arranging the linen napkins and heavy flatware.
Jonas signed the check. “Enjoy your meal,” the bellman said before bowing out.
“Hungry?” Jonas asked. “Ethan sent us a few choices.”
I was not, in fact, hungry. A small fleet of Vivi’s nursery school butterflies were doing a dance in my stomach. But Vivi climbed right up into one of the heavy dining chairs and surveyed the plates. “I like mashed potatoes.”
“I’ll fix you a plate.” I cut up a piece of chicken for her, adding a good dollop of creamy potatoes.
I took a second plate and put a tiny amount of food onto it for myself. Jonas sat down on the opposite side of the table, taking nothing but a soda. “Aren’t you eating?” I asked him.
He shook his head. “Can’t eat before a show. But I’ll make myself a plate, and stick it in that fridge.” He tipped his head toward the kitchen. “Because the later you call room service, the longer it takes.”
“Ah. If I’d finished that hospitality degree, maybe I could tell you why.”
His eyebrows lifted. “You switched majors?”
“Yes. To education. I wanted teachers’ hours.” This conversation did nothing for my nerves. Could it be any more obvious that we didn’t know each other anymore?
Jonas looked like he wanted to ask another question, but Vivi began talking about sprouting potatoes at school. “You have to use organic ones, because the grocery store ones have chemicals.”
Vivi to the rescue. And this was how “reasonable visitation” might be survivable. Whenever the conversation got too personal, or when I slipped into the memory of Jonas’s hands on my skin, I would just let Vivi take over the conversation.
I took a small bite of chicken and reminded myself that tomorrow Jonas would leave town again. He’d come and go from my life, and I would just have to deal with it.
* * *
After dinner,Vivi hopped down from her chair and began to tear around. “What’s in here?” she asked, darting into the room with two beds.
