by Lori L. Otto
“I’m actually going to have them with me at the hospital. Hopefully they can start getting used to having their brother around–maybe begin to understand that he’s a welcome part of our family.”
“Jacks and I have been working on that.”
“Thank you. I’ve noticed a shift in their attitudes. Or at least they haven’t been verbal about it.”
“We’ve just stressed how much Livvy wanted Auggie.”
I flinch, and my stomach drops when I hear that name, but I force a smile anyway. “She loved him,” I respond.
“She did.”
I turn my attention to my kids. “Bunny, when’s the last time you had something to eat?”
“I had a grapefruit for breakfast.”
“She said she wasn’t hungry this morning,” Nolan tells me. “Same for Willow.”
“It’s fine, man.” I pat him on the shoulder on my way to the kitchen, picking up two plates at the end of the island.
“Let me help,” Coley says, taking one of them. “What do they like?”
“Just put a little of everything on the plate,” I suggest, making my way down the buffet line. She follows me. “This looks really good.”
“My brother and his friend, Booker, made it all.”
“What? Joel did this?”
“Yeah. Shea hired him to cater and do a little cooking for you on the side.”
“That’s… awesome. Why isn’t he here?”
“They went out with Nyall and Joanna… to give us all some time alone.”
“Coley, they’re family. They’re welcome here, too.”
“It was Joanna and Booker. They felt weird about it all.”
“I wish you would have said something. I would have invited them at the church,” I tell her. “How long are they in town?”
“Well, Nyall and Joanna are staying with us for a few more days. Joel is… well, he’s staying with Booker at the moment, but–”
“Hold that thought. Edie? Willow?” I call out to my daughters, who are enjoying being the center of attention with all of the aunts and uncles in the house. Everyone’s doting on them.
“Yeah, Daddy?” Willow says.
“Go sit down at the dinner table for me. You both need to eat.”
“We’re not hungry.”
“You say that now, but I saw you eyeing the desserts Aunt Kelly sent, and you’re not having any of them until you eat everything on that plate. Got it?”
“All of it?” she asks.
“All of it.”
“But then I won’t be hungry for her pie,” she whines.
“Wils, we’ll be here for hours, and I bet you anything there will be a constant supply of sweets coming into this house for a while. You’ll get her pie, okay? Just take this into the dining room and eat.”
“What about Edie?”
“I’m going to get her now,” Coley says. After she has a similar discussion with my oldest, Edie drags herself into the dining room, too. We stand at the end of the island where I can keep an eye on them as they eat, and Coley and I continue our conversation.
“You were saying… about Joel?”
“Well, he wants to find a permanent job in the city, right?” she starts.
“Yeah, I remember him saying that last month.”
“How do you feel… and you can say no, but… what do you think about him staying here with you in your guest room for a while? Maybe he could be your personal chef until you’ve got things under control with Luca, and then he’ll be able to start looking for a job in a kitchen somewhere. He’s very helpful to have around. The girls love him. And he’ll give you privacy. He likes his, too. He’s got plenty of friends here to hang out with. I swear he won’t be in your way.”
I think about it for a minute, then look back into the dining room to see that both girls are eating heartily with huge smiles on their faces. “How’s your dinner?” I ask them.
“So good,” Edie tells me.
“I want seconds of this one,” Willow says, pointing to something green.
I turn back around at the serving trays behind me to see what I actually fed my daughters. In a haze, I didn’t pay much attention to what I spooned on the plate. Spaghetti squash. Grilled chicken. Some sort of fresh vegetable medley in a light cream sauce. Parmesan crisps. They actually had a healthy meal… and they want more.
“Once we get settled in,” I tell Trey’s fiancée, “I’ll give him a call. I’d love his help. I’ll pay whatever.”
After getting some extra veggies for my youngest, I grab a plate for myself and join them. Shea, Will, Trey, Coley, Max and Callen make their way into the dining room shortly after.
“Do you two have any questions about today?” I ask my girls.
They look at one another, trying to think of something.
Edie eventually speaks. “Who was that man at the funeral in the lime green jacket and black glasses?” When I don’t answer immediately, she continues to describe him. “He had on black pants and a black and green striped tie. And his pants seemed too short. And you seemed to be gritting your teeth when you shook his hand. And also? Granddaddy put his hands in his pocket when he came up to him.”
I didn’t need the additional info. I’d wanted to deck the guy the second I saw him in his flashy hipster suit. “That was your mother’s first agent. His name is Abram.”
“Do you not like him?” she asks me.
“You’re quick on the uptake, Eeds,” Max says.
“What’s that mean?”
“That you’re astute… perceptive. You know what that means?” She nods her head.
“Why don’t you like him, Daddy?” Willow asks.
“Do you know the word smarmy?” Will asks.
“No.”
“Exploitative?” Coley adds.
“No.”
“Bumptious?” Trey gets into the fun.
“Stop it!” Edie says, getting frustrated.
“He, uh… kissed your mother when she didn’t want to be kissed,” I say simply. “Do you know what we call that?”
Both my girls shake their heads.
“Assault.”
“Sexual assault,” Coley says. I shake my head subtly, trying to stop her from saying it, but it’s too late. I’m not sure my daughters are quite ready for this conversation. It dawns on me that I don’t know what conversations Livvy had with them. I know we decided to not have a full anatomical conversation with them when they asked how babies were born last winter, but rather a very vague discussion about how when couples fall in love, they decide to share that love by bringing a baby into the world… and sometimes, if they’re lucky, sleeping in the same bed can make that happen.
I felt like we’d gotten away with it, but I had a feeling the girls had more questions that were likely not asked in my presence. Or it’s possible Livvy just wanted to be more honest with them and told them.
Plus, Edie knows the term hooker. She must know things beyond what I think she knows.
Willow’s cheeks blossom red. “Oh,” she says, returning to her plate of food.
“Why?” Edie asks.
“Why what?” Trey responds.
“A kiss isn’t sex.” She looks at me, wide-eyed, after she makes the declaration. I’m pretty sure I’m looking at her with the same expression.
“Can I be excused?” Willow interrupts.
“It’s okay, Wils,” Coley says. “It’s okay to talk about–”
“Sweetie, go ahead. Take your plate in with Memi and Granddaddy.”
“Thank you.”
After she’s gone, I direct my attention to Coley. “Don’t push her, if she’s not ready… she’ll let you know.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. Just… you’ll figure it out. Don’t worry about it.” I look back at Edie. “Bunny, what were you saying?”
“Just that… I know that a kiss isn’t sex so how can that be sex… assault?”
I let out a long sigh and tug at my hair
. I can feel everyone looking at me. “Eeds, do you know what sex is?”
She shrugs her shoulders. “Where babies come from,” she says, looking down, embarrassed, after she says it. “And you can’t have babies from just kissing. Or else there’d be a lot more babies in the world!”
We all laugh at that comment, appreciating the boost of humor injected back into the room.
“Well, that’s very true. Women can’t get pregnant from just kissing,” I confirm, choosing to breeze past defining sex; that’s far too complex for her young mind. “But because some kinds of kissing can be an intimate act between two people, it can sometimes be categorized as sexual. Sexual doesn’t only relate to sex. It can relate to physical attraction, intimacy, contact… those kinds of things. Does that make more sense?”
“The way you and Mama kiss is sexual, right?”
Whereas before, all eyes were on me, now everyone looks away. Forks are set down on plates; heads are bowed into laps.
My eyes water, thinking about kissing Livvy. My Olivia.
“The way we kissed…” I linger on the past tense of the verb. “It was everything, bunny. Just… everything,” I tell her, wiping my eyes.
“I’m sorry, Daddy.” She starts to cry, too. “I didn’t mean to bring her up.”
“Don’t apologize.” I shake my head and pull her into my chest. “And certainly, don’t cry. Always bring her up. It’s going to take time for me to not be sad, but I always want to think of her and remember her.” Always. Everywhere. “Okay?”
“Okay.”
“I mean it. The last thing I want is for you to think I’m too fragile for you to talk about her. I’m not.”
“Okay,” she repeats.
“I want to be strong like you. I’m just going to need your help… and I think there will be moments when you need mine, too. Right?”
“Right.” We all go back to eating, following Edie’s lead after she swallows her tears. “Daddy?”
“Yeah?”
“Did that man go to jail for sex assaulting Mama?”
“No, he didn’t. We didn’t press charges. I walked in right when it happened… he did lose his job, his most lucrative client and his credibility.”
“What’d you do?” she asks me.
I consider lying but decide to tell her the truth. If she asks Jack, he’ll tell her what really happened with no shame whatsoever, and he’s not a fighting man. “I hit him. Nearly broke his nose. And I don’t condone violence, bunny… but I lost my temper that day. Your mom and I were in a rocky place in our relationship, so… a lot of factors played into that moment. I was handcuffed by security… afraid I’d be arrested. But Granddaddy came just in time and cleared things up. Saved me from any jail time.”
“Was that before or after I was born?”
“Way, way before. I was a freshman at Columbia. Your mom was a senior in high school.”
“Can I date college boys when I’m in high school?”
“No,” I say, giving no thought whatsoever to her question. When I look around at my family members, they’re raising their brows, knowing that I will be powerless to stop the force of nature that will be high-school-Edie-Scott, just like Jack Holland couldn’t control high-school-Livvy-Holland.
But I can think that I have that power for now–and make her think that, too.
She takes her plate to the kitchen, then joins her sister and the others in the living room. I notice everyone is still looking at me. “What?”
“Your nine-year-old seems to know a lot about sex.”
“About that,” I start. “Don’t trust that girl alone with any computer, phone or tablet, you got it? Liv unlocked her iPad and she figured out how to create her own YouTube channel.”
“Sure, blame the girl who can’t be here to defend herself,” Max says. My heart falters, but a smile breaks across my face, and we all start laughing out loud. It feels damn good to laugh together.
Chapter 27
Frustrated, I tap the bottle nipple against Luca’s lips, which he refuses to open. It’s the third day I’ve failed at bottle feeding, and he’s losing weight, even though he’s still being fed with a tube.
“Try your finger again,” Katie encourages me.
“We’ve established he’ll suck on my fingertip,” I say, unable to mask my anxiety. “He likes the natural feel of it. I get it. What he doesn’t like is the fucking rubber tip of this fucking bottle.”
I bow my head and close my eyes as I murmur an apology to my little girls. “There’s a five in my wallet on the dresser.”
“It’s okay, Daddy,” Edie says, coming over to me and rubbing my arm sweetly.
“It’s not, bunny. Your brother needs to eat, and I can’t do it.”
He starts crying in my arms, his hands flailing. I feel the same exact way, kid, but somehow, I’ve got to hold it all together. I set the bottle down and find a different position to try to calm him.
Willow comes up from behind her sister and takes the bottle from the countertop, then pops it in Luca’s open mouth as he wails. He fusses for two seconds, then tests out the nipple a couple times. He opens his eyes, blinks once, and keeps suckling the formula. I take the bottle from my daughter, holding it at the proper angle.
“Well, why didn’t I think of that, Wils?” I say, grateful for her quick actions.
“I don’t know, Daddy. You’ve been fighting to get his mouth open forever,” she exaggerates. “Seemed pretty obvious to me.”
“I guess it did. I must be overthinking things.”
“So, can we go soon?” she asks.
“Sweetheart,” I start, my heart racing at what I consider a momentous occasion, “this is such an important thing that’s happening here. We’re watching your little brother eat for the first time. This is huge! And we’re all witnessing it together.”
“Big whoop. I’m hungry, too, but no one’s feeding me anything.”
“Shut up, Willow. Daddy said he’d take us wherever we wanted on our way home if we were good. So, shut up and be good.”
“Stop telling me to shut up.”
“Girls, stop arguing. Edie, don’t say shut up, but… Wils? Let’s be quiet while Luca has his dinner, okay? Don’t rush him.”
“He doesn’t know what I’m saying anyway,” she mumbles as she crosses the room to the couch where her book lays. She crashes onto the cushions and buries her nose into the pages.
“Daddy, can I try?” Edie asks. Her interest in Luca has been surprising–and a total relief.
“You can hold the bottle for me. Just make sure you keep it like this,” I say, showing her. She’s careful as she grips the bottle, and she strokes her brother’s head softly as he drinks the formula.
“He’s so cute.”
“I know. You think he looks like your mom?”
“He has dark skin like her–and me. He’s not pale like you and Willow.”
“We aren’t pale. Memi’s pale,” I argue. “Uncle Trey is pale.”
She smiles. “They’re ghostly.”
“Yeah, they are,” I agree. “And he has lashes like yours. I bet he’ll have brown eyes like yours, too.”
“He has girl lashes.” She giggles. “And his hair’s dark like mine and Mama’s.”
“Mmhmm.”
“So, he’s going to be a pretty little boy, I guess.”
I laugh with her. “I guess he will.” I think he’ll look even more like Liv, though, than Edie does. He has his mother’s nose, too.
I take over bottle-holding duties when she moves to give him a kiss on the forehead. She baby-talks to him, too, and I don’t want to do anything to discourage their bonding.
“Looks like he was hungry,” Katie says, coming over to us as he finishes off the bottle.
“Oh, my gosh. That’s crazy. That’s not normal, right? Should he have eaten all of it?”
The nurse nods her head. “You didn’t overfeed him,” she assures me. “I measured out an appropriate amount for his little tummy
.”
“Now we burp?” I ask.
“Do you remember how?”
“I’m a pro at this. Give me that rag.” Edie hands me the cloth that the hospital had provided, and I drape it over my shoulder. Luca’s much easier to handle without the feeding tube attached. I know we’re not finished with it, but it’s nice to have him a little less tethered. I hold him close to my heart and pat his back gently.
After a couple minutes, Katie approaches me. “Sometimes, it’s difficult for preemies. We may need to–oh!” She stops talking when she hears the air escape his throat.
“I said I was a pro. This was my job with these two. Liv fed them; I burped them.”
“Ladies don’t burp, Daddy,” Edie says.
“Mmhmm,” I say, rolling my eyes. “You keep thinking that. And tell your sister, won’t ya?” Give Willow a soda and put her in a room with her Uncle Max, and she will challenge herself to burp the alphabet. I’d admonished my little brother multiple times for encouraging my daughter’s behavior, only to find out he really had nothing to do with it–except that she had no trouble being her true self with him.
And, really, I didn’t want to discourage that, even if it wasn’t ladylike. She knew better than to do it in public.
“Who wants to change a diaper?” I ask the room. No one volunteers. “Daddy gets to pick the movie tonight, then.” I get up and take the baby to the changing table.
“What movie are we watching?” Willow asks.
“Something… I don’t know. Black and white. A classic,” I suggest. My girls hate black and white movies. Hell, I’m not a fan of them myself.
“Oh, I’ll do it,” my youngest says, dragging her feet as she walks toward me. “Show me what to do again, Daddy.” I exchange a look with the nurse, who totally saw through my manipulative plan, and grin.
“Great job,” Edie says sarcastically.
I’d forgotten about Willow’s current fascination.
“Sharknado 4!” she exclaims, holding the clean diaper over her head in victory.
“Oh, man…”
Katie bursts out in genuine laughter. “Darn, and you’re sure you have to go home tonight? I’ll have to miss that one?” she asks Willow, her hands on her knees.
“Have you seen the first three?”
