Page 23 of ICED
The afternoon fades into early evening. Lila’s already had her dinner and is curled up on Maya’s lap, eyes heavy with sleep. Maya’s head rests against the back of the chair, and for a moment, she looks almost peaceful.
I’m about to make my exit when Maya suddenly stiffens, her eyes snapping open.
“I should lock up and get this little lady home,” she mutters.
I glance at the clock. The place is almost empty now, quiet except for the soft hum of the fridge and the distant sounds of the street outside.
Maya’s fingers twitch in her lap, and I see her breath quicken.
“You want me to stay and help?” I ask.
She hesitates, then nods.
I grab the keys from behind the counter where Maya keeps them, and lock the front door. Then I pull the window shutters down and begin turning of the lights.
“Lila was right about the raisins, you know,” I say softly. “Good for the heart.”
Maya snorts, the sound barely audible but real. “You’re ridiculous.”
I smile, glad for the small victory.
“Shall I grab your coat and bags from the kitchen? Lila looks too comfy on your lap to move her.”
Maya nods grateful, “Please, that would be great.”
I watch her gather Lila into her arms, and the fierce protectiveness I saw earlier softens into something tender.
I follow them both toward the door, where I flip the signto closed and open it for Maya to step through. Lila still bundled tightly in her arms.
“I’d offer to take you both home but I don’t have a car seat for Lila,” I’m almost apologetic, but then why would a single man in his late twenties have a car seat stashed away.
Maya offers me a small smile. “Oh no, it’s fine. I have a taxi booked for when I’m here late. It’s the same person that picks me up every time. She’ll be here in a minute.”
“Well, in that case I’ll wait until they get here. Can’t leave you out here alone with Lila.” Maya tries to protest but I shut her down. “It’s non-negotiable.”
The taxi pulls up seconds later and I open the rear door for Maya to climb in. She settles Lila into the seat next to her and fastens her seatbelt securely around the little girl. I don’t miss her checking it twice before she fastens her own.
Lila looks up at me and waves. “Bye, Mr Bear!”
I wave back, feeling a warmth I didn’t expect and push the cab door closed.
After they leave, I stand by the roadside, running my hand over my beard. The ache in my shoulder is nothing compared to the ache growing in my chest. There’s something about this place, about Maya and Lila that feels like home.
And I’m willing to wait as long as it takes to be part of it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MAYA
By the time we reach the flat, Lila is a warm, sleepy weight by my side, her head tucked beneath my chin. Her curls smell like strawberries and a little dab of the bubble bath she insisted on this morning. She doesn’t stir when I unlock the door, just sighs softly and clutches the collar of my coat in her tiny fist.
The flat is dark and quiet, exactly how I left it. Still, I kick the door shut with my heel and deadbolt it immediately. Top lock. Bottom lock. Chain. Then I double-check the peephole and flick the hallway light on. My keys go in the ceramic bowl by the door. I only exhale once they clink.
Lila’s room is warm from the radiator, her favourite teddies arranged along the edge of the bed like a protective wall of plush animals. I lower her down gently, easing off her coat and shoes as carefully as I can. She stirs when I tug the blanket over her but doesn’t wake.
“Love you,” I whisper, brushing a curl from her cheek.
She sighs again in her sleep and clutches her panda tighter.
