Athena puts Peony on the bed. Peony picks up the hippo, crawls over to the bag containing the blocks, and bangs her palms on it.
I slowly pick the bag up, so as not to frighten her with any sudden moves. “How about I open this for you?”
Peony watches me, fear and shyness and curiosity flip-flopping in her expression. The curiosity seems to win out. She doesn’t shrink from me, but I bet if I tried to pick her up, she’d let her opinion be known to everyone on this floor of the hotel.
Even so, a flicker of hope sparks inside me that we’re on the path—long and winding as it might be—to her accepting me in her life. That she isn’t about to have another meltdown because I’m here.
Hopefully.
I pour the blocks onto the bed, the pile separating her side of the mattress from mine. Then I kneel on the floor, to make myself smaller, less intimidating.
Remaining motionless, as if I’m a big bad wolf, ready to strike if she makes a sudden move, Peony keeps watching me as I build a house.
“I also picked up some clothes for you, Athena.” I indicate with a wave to a bag on the bed. “Plus, there’s some underwear,” I mumble, my face heating up like I’m a goddamn virgin. My attention remains on the house I’m building. “I had the saleswoman pick them out.”
Peony picks up two blocks and puts them together.
“What are you building?” I point at her blocks, desperate to change topic. “Is that a house?”
“Thank you.” Athena’s words are spoken slowly, softly, like she’s trying them on for the first time.
She sits next to Peony on the bed and works on her own construction project.
While the three of us play with the blocks, Athena talks with some prompting about Kenda and Peony. But I can’t get her to open up about herself. She’s like Troy’s girlfriend, Jessica, when she first moved to Maple Ridge. But Jess had a good reason for not being talkative. She hadn’t wanted anyone to know she’d spent the past five years in prison for killing her abusive husband. She was later found innocent of the crime but feared people’s reactions if they knew her real name.
Jess had a reason for not talking about herself. What’s Athena’s deal?
Athena and Peony remain on their side of the bed as we play with the blocks. It’s like a deep chasm is stretching between their side and mine, and I’m the stranger, the unwanted intruder on the connection they have between them.
Peony occasionally flicks a puzzled glance at me, as if she can’t figure out why I’m still here, but she makes no attempt to interact with me beyond that.
“I have to get going now,” I tell them. “Is there anything else you need for tonight?”
Athena shakes her head. Peony doesn’t comment.
I push to my feet. “I’ll drop by around noon tomorrow to see how you’re doing.” Before my run with Kellan.
“O-okay.”
“Bye, Peony. Bye, Poppy.” I wave at my daughter and her panda and memorize her features. Memorize those parts of her that remind me of Kenda. Remind me of the woman who is dead, and now I have to tell my best friend that. Kenda might have confided in Zara about Peony but not about who her father is.
And I have no idea how to tell Zara the news about Kenda—not without breaking my best friend’s heart.
13
ZARA
The irritating noiseof my alarm clock echoes off the bathroom tiles, and I startle awake.
The bath water temperature has dramatically cooled, and goose bumps prickle my skin. Exhaustion still drapes my body like a soggy blanket, partly due to my inability to sleep through the night lately.
My shoulders and hips and the base of my spine twinge, reminding me why I keep waking up and have trouble falling asleep.
Maybe I need a new mattress.
Groaning, I push to my feet. Only to groan again as my muscles protest the movement. Cold water streams down my body, making things worse.
Shivering, I grab my towel and quickly get ready, dressing in the black silk pantsuit I wore for less than an hour last night. I then put the same effort into my appearance as I did for my date. Only, this time I’m not doing it for a man to appreciate.
