by Xavier Neal
“Why haven’t you told them yet? Embarrassed?”
“No,” I firmly retort to smother out any doubt. “They’ve just been sailing around the Caribbean since we started dating, and it didn’t seem like a good conversation to have while they were on their honeymoon.”
His expression doesn’t change.
“I’m going to tell them.”
“When?”
“When we invite them over for dinner to do it.”
He looks unconvinced.
“You can pick out an expensive wine…make your famous ravioli…light up a stogie after dinner…”
Finally, a flicker of a smile appears. “Fine.”
I blow him a kiss and glance in the backseat where Hattie is playing a game on her tablet, Barry adorably wedged in the seat beside her. “Princess, you ready?”
Hattie ignores the question.
And this is why I have a love/hate relationship with that thing. She zones out the rest of the world, which is amazing in the car because we can listen to Dean Martin and discuss what an asshole one of Pax’s clients is being for constantly texting him, but when it’s time to get the thing out of her hands, The Jaws of Life would crack under the pressure.
“Hattie.”
No response.
“Hattie.”
Still silence.
“Hattie Mae!”
“Mae?” Pax playfully questions. “Hattie Mae, because Ellie Mae was taken?”
“Shut up.”
“You’re not naming our future son.”
“Shut. Up. Or you’ll never get that future son.”
He swallows his snicker.
Most definitely an idle threat. I want to have his son or daughter. At least one. I know Pax practically considers Hattie his own, but there’s a longing for one that he helped create. That we brought into this world. I can see it in his eyes.
My voice rises to a new volume. “Hattie Mae Young!”
Her head shoots up at the shouting of all three names. “Hm?”
Displeased with her device focus, I fuss, “Does that need to stay here?”
She shakes her head.
“Apologize,” Pax commands with a stern stare in the rearview.
“Sorry, Mom..I was eating these numbers to make my caterpillar big and fat and-”
“Numbers?” Surprise coats my tone. “You weren’t playing…Minecraft?”
She quickly shakes it again. “No-huh. Pax got me this really cool math game. You can be a caterpillar or a worm, and then you play all these puzzles to try and make your thing really fat and really pretty or sparkly or shiny!”
I can hardly stop myself from letting my smile reappear. “It’s a learning game.”
Her excitement remains. “Yeah! I can do adding or subtracting or multiplying! And then when I don’t wanna be a caterpillar, I can be a wizard and stuff with time and shapes. It’s like so fun.”
“So. Fun,” Pax quietly mocks.
My smile remains as I shake my head at him.
Shit like this still takes some adjusting to. Having another “parent” to share responsibilities with. Not being the only one to check the homework folder or give the clean your room lecture. Surprisingly enough, Hattie never pushes back like Pax isn’t her father. I think she had an easier time embracing it than I do. They have their own dynamic. Bond over their own things such as building complex contraptions with Legos and tossing around the baseball in the backyard. Thankfully, it hasn’t put a wedge in between the one I share with her. We still engage in plenty of just Mom and daughter moments, which Pax uses to catch up on his cases via his laptop. We’re finding a real family dynamic, and it’s incredible.
And terrifying.
And part of me can’t wait to expand it…
“Ready to go see Grandma and Grandpa?”
Hattie unbuckles her seatbelt. “Yeah! Hope we can go swimming! Grandpa’s pool has a slide!”
Pax playfully questions, “Did you pack Barry his swim trunks?”
“He doesn’t have any…”
“We should buy him some.”
“We should!”
“Please, stop encouraging my daughter to develop an expensive shopping habit.”
Pax chortles. “Have a good time, Hattie Pattie. We’ll pick you up tomorrow night after dinner.”
They exchange their usual fist bump before we proceed to the front door.
After two knocks, a member of the house keeping staff answers with a polite smile. “Good morning, Miss Young.”
“Ryann,” I promptly correct. “Please.”
The older woman delivers a simple nod and lowers her greeting to Hattie. “Little Miss Young.”
My daughter joyfully giggles. “Hattie! I’m Hattie! Don’t you remember me?”
“Of course I do, Hattie. You are impossible to forget.”
“Very true.” I accompany my agreement with a tussle of her wavy hair. “Is my mom around?”
“Master and Madam Winston are having coffee on the east patio. I shall fetch them for you.”
“Thank you.”
The woman bows her head once more before walking away to complete her task.
Hattie tugs on the edge of my black A line skirt to grab my attention. “Does she live here with Grandma and Grandpa?”
“Kind of.” My head bounces side to side. “They live in what is called the servants’ quarters, which is a little house just on the side of this one.”
“They’re servants? Like in the princess movies? Is Grandma a Princess?!”
“She’d be more like a queen since she’s married now, but no, Hattie. Grandma is not royalty.”
“Are you sure?” She fiddles with her Hello Kitty backpack straps while her head slowly examines the mansion. “Their house looks like a really pretty castle.”
“We can always pretend it is,” my mother’s voice joins the conversation.
“Grandma!”
“Hattie!” She squeaks back as she leans down to give her a warm hug. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too, Grandma!”
Mom holds the embrace a moment longer and then calls me over to deliver to me the same warm greeting. She squeezes me even tighter than she did my daughter.
When she pulls back, her eyes meet mine, and I happily state, “You’re glowing.”
“It’s all the sun,” she brushes off. “But you…you are glowing. Who is this person and where is the one that usually wears a doleful expression?”
I glare. “You’re exaggerating.”
“I am not.” Her arms fold firmly across her chest. “I haven’t seen this side of you since…before Hattie was born.”
My bottom lip tucks itself out of sight.
“You look confident and cheerful and relaxed. What’s gotten into you?”
The correct word choice would be who.
But now is not the time for that discussion.
Dinner. Wine. Cigars. That is the plan, and I’m sticking to it.
“I should go,” I swiftly change the subject and take three steps backwards towards the cracked open door. “I do have a flight to catch.”
Mom suspiciously eyes me as she follows my movements towards the door. She steals a glance of Pax’s Range Rover and questions, “Ubering to the airport? You know Bart could just as easily have one of his drivers-”
“No, thank you,” my denial is quick but not quick enough.
“That’s Pax’s car!” Hattie announces, frantically waving. “Bye Pax!”
My jaw bobs, but the words don’t seem to be in any rush to form a coherent sentence.
“He spends so much time with us Grandma,” she continues to gush. “He makes me pasta and pancakes and taught me how to hit a baseball! He has sleepovers at our house almost every night, and we share pink toothpaste. He says mine tastes better than Mom’s.”
The last sliver of information catches me off guard. “Really?”
Mom softly suggests, “Hattie, can you go put your bag away i
n your room? Do you remember which one is yours?”
“I do!” She shouts. “Grandpa let me pick out the paint that goes on the walls and like all the toys inside of it!”
Bartholomew Winston spends his money every day how people imagine they’d spend it if they won the highest value lottery they’d ever seen. He throws cash around like confetti, living by the very eccentric motto, “You can’t spend it when you’re dead”, which is an odd thing to say considering he’s not that old.
As soon as she’s certain her granddaughter is out of ear shot, she snaps, “You’re dating the divorce attorney!?”
“Bart also considers him a friend!”
“Not better, Ryann. Worse.”
Is it?
“This isn’t just casual, either. Not if you’re letting him spend that much time around Hattie. Not if he’s spending the night.”
Uncertain what to say, I return to my previous stammering. “I- I- I-”
“This is serious.” Her expression becomes unreadable. “Did you see the way Hattie’s face lit up just talking about him? She really likes him.”
“She loves him,” I thoughtlessly correct. “She tells him every night before bed…”
Which is a little awkward since we haven’t exactly exchanged those yet.
“Do you?”
“Tell him that every night?”
She pinches her eyebrows together. “Love him?”
More than I probably should as a responsible adult. I mean who falls head over heels like this for someone in just a few months? Shouldn’t this whole thing have taken so much longer? Without Hattie, sure. A whirlwind romance is not something the old me would’ve fought. But with her? It seems a little wrong to behave like this. To include my needs alongside hers. To…let some of the old me that I didn’t realize I missed this much see the light of day again. She is what matters most to me in this world…I just never predicted I would’ve found someone so soon who would be a close second.
All of a sudden, Bart rounds the corner, carrying my daughter. “Look who Grandpa found!”
Hattie giggles and lays her head lovingly on his shoulder.
Warming up to Bart took some time, yet once she got there, she stayed. Whenever he’s around they become almost inseparable. I think it’s because he’s still a giant kid himself. He has an entire room dedicated to gumball machines.
My mom’s face warms, and I recognize the expression, not only because I’ve watched her make it anytime he’s been around during the last year, but because now I make it, too.
That’s what love looks like.
“Kiss Mom goodbye,” Bart instructs, allowing Hattie to lean over in his grasp.
After a short peck on the cheek, her pout returns. “I really can’t come with you and Pax? I promise to be extra extra good!”
“Mom has to work, remember? Besides Grandma and Grandpa haven’t seen you in months. They’ve missed you. Haven’t you missed them?”
She nods with a smile.
“And just so you two know, Jesse has been an extra pain in the rear end lately about ‘communication’, so be prepared for outrageous demands via text message to know she’s ‘safe’ and that he is being ‘kept in the loop’ on her whereabouts.”
Pax answering the door at my side a couple weeks ago apparently waged a new war. His attorney is breathing down Dan’s neck, claiming I’m not abiding by the communication portion of our custody agreement while Dan has been trying to bring to their attention the concern for new unexplainable marks on her body that have appeared after his care. Despite there being no mention of a need to keep him informed of my dating life in our arrangement, his lawyer is claiming a lack of knowledge for a new person picking Hattie up from school and bringing her into his care, goes against the communication standards. Rather than fight it, Dan encouraged me to just provide what they insisted, so during our next mediation it shows I’ve done everything possible to be compliant while he’s still being difficult.
My mother nods her understanding at the same time Bart slowly questions, “Pax?”
Panic burrows in my eyes.
This is not wine, pasta, and cigars!
“Pax is Mom’s boyfriend and my special grown up friend.”
His salt and pepper eyebrows dart upward. “Oh, is he?”
“Yeah! I want him to be my dad someday!”
More shock shakes my system.
Did she just say…?
Bart’s attention darts to my mother. “Did you know?”
“For like two minutes. She didn’t tell me, either.”
“You guys were on your honeymoon!”
Bart grunts his displeasure and looks at Hattie. “Can you go try your new swimsuit on? Grandma picked you out a new one that looks like a mermaid.”
“A mermaid?!”
“Yeah! Can you go change, please, so we can start the day with some sun and swimming?”
Mom cautiously questions, “Haven’t we had enough sun?”
“No such thing,” he sweetly teases.
He’s like two shades away from being George Hamilton. Maybe I should nonchalantly mention they wear more sunscreen?
Bart places Hattie back on the ground. She gives me one last wave and rushes away again. Afterwards, he adjusts the collar of his white polo shirt, and motions a hand out the door. “Let me walk you back to the car.”
I quickly deny, “Not necessary.”
“But it is,” he quietly argues. Bart leans over and plants a chaste kiss on my mother’s cheek. “I’ll be right back my little sugar plum.”
My face unconsciously gags at the nickname.
Guess Buttercup isn’t that much better…
Bart and I silently walk side by side over to the Range Rover. Upon seeing us, Pax prepares to spring out of his seat to help me, when my step father shakes his head. He opens the door, helps me in, and strolls over to the driver’s side where my boyfriend has lowered the window.
“Rossi.”
“Bartholomew.”
He shoves his hands into his khaki shorts pockets. “Hattie says you’re her special grown up friend and Ryann’s boyfriend.”
Pax’s tone remains strong. “Yes, sir.”
Bart lets out a very harsh exhale. “I see.”
“This isn’t how we wanted to tell you. Either of you,” I try to interject. “There was going to be pasta! And wine! And cigars!”
“Ryann is an adult. A well-educated, well informed, intelligent woman who can make her own decisions in regards to who she deems fit for her and her daughter. I respect her choices. She and Hattie are family, and I’d do anything to make sure my family is happy. However, if you harm my new step daughter or my angel of a granddaughter I will bury you, Rossi, without a second thought to the relationship you and I share.”
“Bart!”
Pax places a comforting hand on my thigh. “I’ll personally hand you the shovel.”
A small smirk crosses Bart’s lips. “Enjoy your trip. We will see you tomorrow night for dinner. I think there was a mention of wine and cigars.” He winks at me. “Make sure you bring me back a good stogie, Rossi. I’ve got the wine and pasta covered.”
“Will do.”
My boyfriend rolls the window up and waits until Bart is back at the door before pulling out of the driveway.
His surprisingly relaxed nature has me shouting, “How are you so calm!?”
“I’m in one piece.”
“What?! Why wouldn’t you be?! Does he have a secret violent streak that he’s managed to keep hidden from my mother this entire time? Did they get married too fast? I knew they got married too fast.”
He sweetly pats my leg. “Buttercup, men get very protective about their families especially their wives or daughters. It’s basic instinct. Ancient survival. It doesn’t matter if he’s known you since birth or since five minutes ago. You are his daughter in his mind, and that means it is his responsibility to defend you. It’s one reason his previous pushing on you to switch to an attorn
ey he recommends and is willing to pay for, is a better idea than keeping the buffoon who has been handling your custody issues this far.” Pax pulls out of the gated community. “I understand and respect where Bart was coming from. You saw it as being out of line. I saw it as being willing to protect what you love. And just so we’re on the same page…when Hattie starts dating…which won’t be until she’s forty five, the speech I give will be much more violent.”
