“I’m still coming.” Athena heaves out a disgruntled breath and picks up a block from the floor.
“You sure? You don’t seem all that excited about going.”
“I doubt playing with toys will make a difference.” She huffs. “She already does that here.” Athena waves to the blocks on the coffee table. “Play therapy sounds like a waste of time, if you ask me.”
I ignore the comment and blow a raspberry on Peony’s cheek. Peony giggles. “Daddy has to work a little longer. Then after lunch, we’ll drive to Portland to visit a special lady.” Who can hopefully get to the root of why Peony becomes scared around men. And hopefully Jada will have some suggestions as to how I can help my daughter with that and the nightmares.
The little princess is fast asleep when we arrive at the professional building. I pull into an empty spot on the street in front of an older single-story house. The lawn is slightly sloped, the grass recently mowed.
Athena jumps out of the passenger seat as I kill the engine. She races to Peony’s side of the SUV and opens the door. “Hey, baby girl, we’re here.”
Her reaction is odd given her opinion about Peony seeing a therapist. I doubt she’s in that much of a rush to get to Jada’s office.
In the elevator, Athena gently bounces Peony in her arms as if to soothe her. But Peony doesn’t seem nervous. If anything, she looks curious as she glances around the elevator, her eyes sweetly rounded. The only person who is clearly nervous is Athena.
“She’ll be fine,” I tell her, barely resisting the urge to take Peony from Athena, in case Peony starts to think there is a reason to be nervous.
We easily find the clinic and walk into the brightly lit waiting room. The comfy chairs scattered in the space are neutral colored, topped with aquamarine cushions. Light-green trees add a painted splash of color to the beige walls.
No one else is in the room. On the desk is a sign that reads, “Please take a seat. Jada Biles will be with you shortly.”
Peony points at the large aquarium along one wall and squirms in Athena’s arms. Tropical fish swim through the water and dart between the aquatic plants.
Athena lowers her to the floor and looks around the room. Annoyancesquints her eyes, flattens her lips. Even her body is tense. Tension rolls off her and tries to get under my skin.
Peony toddles to the aquarium, but she’s too short to see inside it. She turns to me and lifts her arms. “Up.”
I hoist her onto my hip. While we wait for Jada, I point out the different fish, including a clown fish that swims past. “Look, there’s Nemo.”
“Are you Garrett and Peony Carson?” a woman asks behind us.
I turn to find the person whose photo is on the clinic’s website. Jada Biles is a tall, curvy woman with smooth mahogany skin and platinum-blond hair trimmed close to her scalp. Her black pants and light-pink T-shirt loosely skim her body.
“Yes, that would be us,” I reply. “And this is Athena. Peony’s nanny.”
I’ve already explained on the phone how Peony came to live with me and that I only recently found out that I had a daughter. I also told her Athena has known Peony since birth.
“I’m glad you could both come.” Jada’s eyes shimmer with kindness directed at my daughter. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Peony. I’m looking forward to playing some games with you. Do you like sand?”
Peony tilts her head to the side but doesn’t respond. She aims a shy smile at Jada and rests her head on my chest.
“You love playing in the sandbox at Granny’s and Grandpa’s house, don’t you?” I say to Peony.
She lifts Poppy for me to see, as if that answers Jada’s question. And the curve of her lips widens into a grabs-me-by-the-heart grin.
“Why don’t we go into the playroom and get to know each other a little better?” Jada suggests.
I nod. Athena makes a soft noise that sounds like a grunt. I barely refrain from frowning at her, wordlessly telling her to get over whatever her issue is with Jada. For Peony’s sake, she needs to give Jada a chance before she dismisses this as a waste of time.
We follow Jada into another room, which is decorated much like the waiting room.
“I thought while your daddy and Athena tell me about your days, we can play with the sandbox.” Jada leads us to the square sandbox on thefloor. A bunch of plastic toys lie scattered on the sand, including a dog, a dinosaur, a policeman, a man, and a car. Some of them look realistic—like the dog and the dinosaur. The others are bright colors and cartoonish.
“Today is just about me getting to know Peony and vice versa,” Jada explains to Athena and me. She had told me this on the phone when I spoke with her a few weeks ago. It’s to help Peony to learn to trust Jada.
Peony picks up the dog and plays with it on the sand. While Peony plays, Jada asks us about Peony’s daily routines. Jada’s attention remains on Peony. Some of her questions are also directed at my daughter.
Peony doesn’t reply to any of them. She picks up the car and pushes it through the sand.
