“So, you’re happy with the test results?” Zara’s eyes remain on mine, but she nods at Peony.
“Well, I’m glad I didn’t buy her all that stuff only to find out Kenda lied. Am I scared stiff I’m now a single father?” I nod. “Whenever I thought about Kenda and I one day having babies together, not once did I imagine going it alone.” Not once did I imagine her never getting to see them grow up.
“You don’t have to go it alone,” Zara says, the compassion in her eyes making it a little easier to breathe. “You’ve got your family, you’ve got me, and you’ve got Athena to help you out. Kenda might not be here anymore, but you aren’t alone.” Her gaze drops to my lips, and I feel myself lean in a minuscule amount.
Peony squirms in my arms, her interest in this conversation nonexistent, and points to the ground.
“I’d better let you two go.” Zara waves goodbye to her. “Bye, Peony.Thank you for letting me play with you and your daddy.” She climbs into her car.
I step away and watch her reverse out of the driveway.
I walk toward the front door, Peony in my arms. She’s happily chatting again in the toddler language I haven’t learned to decipher. Yet.
The door opens, and Athena steps out of the house, desperation wild in her eyes. “Oh, there you two are.” A weak smile curves across her face, the panic in her eyes unwavering.
What exactly did she think would happen while we were gone? Sure, if I had taken Peony to the playground on my own, Athena would have had a reason to worry. But I wasn’t alone. I was with Zara.
Peony stretches her arms out to her. “Nina!”
Athena doesn’t wait for me to pass my daughter to her. She’s removing her from my grasp before I realize what she’s doing.
As soon as Peony is securely in her arms, the panic quickly smooths from Athena’s expression. “You ready for your bath and bedtime story?”
They step into the house, leaving me on the stoop wondering if I should join them for this part of the bedtime ritual.
Toddler steps.
Athena doesn’t ask me to join them, so I head to my bedroom, change into sweatpants and a T-shirt, and return to my office to work for a bit while she gets Peony ready for bed. I’ll say good night to her once they’re finished. That’s more than I’ve done since they moved in with me.
I settle in the wingback chair, reread where I last left off in the story, and type. But the words don’t flow like I’d hoped they would. The endless memory of the kiss with Zara is blocking them.
Focus.
The next few paragraphs flow like I’m milking frozen blood from a rock. By the time I stop to check on Peony, I’ve barely typed out a page…double-spaced.
The memory of the kiss, Zara’s soft lips against mine, has yet to let me go.
Heaving out a disgruntled breath because I’m getting nowhere with the chapter, I put my laptop on the desk and walk down the hallway toPeony’s room. Peony is in bed, hugging Poppy and listening to Athena read Peony’s favorite book to her.
I lean on the doorjamb, waiting for them to finish. Peony’s animated expression while she listens to the story has me smiling. She really does love that book.
Athena closes it and sets it on the bedside table. The book is the same one they were reading the day I found them on my doorstep almost two weeks ago. The same one I’ve seen Athena read to her so many times, I’m surprised the board book hasn’t fallen apart.
Athena kisses Peony on the forehead. “Sweet dreams.”
I want to let Peony know with more than just words she’s my daughter, but we’re a long way from that point. One day. Maybe one day she’ll let me kiss her forehead too.
I walk to Peony’s bed and pat her panda on the head, a little at a loss at what to do. I’m not the one who puts her to bed every night. I’m not the one who reads her a bedtime story. I’m not the one who tucks her in and checks under her bed for monsters. And I’m not the one who says good night to her and kisses her on the forehead. For the past two weeks, I’ve simply let Athena do those things. It was easier that way, given Peony’s opinion of me.
But maybe that needs to change. Maybe I need to be the one who does all those things for my daughter.
Soon.Once I’m positive she has accepted me and what happened this evening, at the playground, wasn’t a one-time thing. Then I can fully jump into my role as her father.
“Good night, Poppy. Good night, little flower.” I wave to them.
A shy smile sneaks into Peony’s expression, and she buries her face in Poppy’s fur.
She turns her head a fraction, peering at me with those big, pretty brown eyes, her smile still in place.
