Remember Me

by L'Amour, Nelle

  With a sharp flick of his wrist, he tosses the half-smoked butt onto the floor and then stomps it out with the toe of his Nike. His eyes, flickering with fury, meet Kayla’s.

  “I thought you gave up smoking.”

  “Well, I did. But the little chat I was just having with your little helper mandated a ciggie.”

  Finn breathes in and out from his nose. Smoke is virtually coming out of his flaring nostrils. He looks like he may implode. “I thought I told you never to smoke in my house.”

  Kayla rolls her eyes before shooting Finn a look of innocence. “Whoops. Just a little slip up.”

  Finn’s eyes power into her. “A little slip up? Are you fucking kidding me, Kayla? Maddie could have a major asthma attack from inhaling particles of smoke. Don’t you know it’s a major irritant?”

  Just then, a bright little voice fills the room.

  “Daddy!”

  Maddie!

  Clutching Kangy, she gallops up to her father. As if the ugly conversation between Kayla and him never happened, his face lights up as he lifts her into his arms. My own rage dissipates at the sight of them. Joy fills my heart. Her limbs curled around him, he affectionately tugs at one of her braids.

  “Hi, sunshine! Tell me something good!”

  “Scarlet and I drew pictures yesterday while you were away. Coloring!”

  “You did?”

  Maddie bobs her head. “Uh-huh. Wanna see what we made?”

  “Of course!” He lowers our twinkly-eyed daughter to her feet, and she scampers over to the kitchen counter to fetch our two drawings. She prances back to us with our creations dangling from her hand.

  “Daddy, look at what I made. A family!” She shows him the threesome she drew—Finn, her, and me.

  Finn breaks into a dazzling smile. “That’s awesome, baby girl!”

  Maddie beams at her father’s compliment while Kayla screws up her face.

  “That doesn’t look a bit like me!”

  Maddie butts in. “It’s not you. It’s Scarlet.”

  Kayla’s jaw drops to the floor. Her eyes smolder.

  “You know what, Finn? I came all the way over here to discuss your upcoming exhibition at Jaime Zander’s gallery. An exhibition that can make us millions. But you seem to be more interested in this totally amateur, juvenile piece of trash.”

  Finn’s smile falls off his face. Rage burning in his eyes, he meets her fiery gaze. His voice rises. “Kayla, nothing comes before my daughter.”

  His words resonate deep inside me. Remorse settles in the pit of my stomach. If only I had felt this way before. I suddenly hate every story I broke after she was born. Every minute that took me away from my beautiful girl. The last one, whatever it was, literally and figuratively.

  With an angry scowl scrawled on her face, Kayla hops off the stool, slamming her flute on the counter. She narrows her eyes at Finn.

  “Darling, when you come to your senses, call me. And don’t forget that tomorrow we have a meeting with Jaime at his gallery.”

  Grabbing her bag, she stalks out of the kitchen.

  From the corner of my eye, I see Maddie poke her tongue at her.

  A smile crawls across my face.

  My darling sassy daughter.

  She’s a spitfire.

  I love her so much.

  I’ve begun my fight for her father.

  And I have her on my side.

  CHAPTER 38

  The next week goes by quickly. Without any drama. I spend my days instructing Maddie and looking forward to our evenings having dinner with Finn. Finn spends the rest of his time in his studio, prepping paintings for his upcoming exhibition. I miss him when he’s not with us and though I’ve been tempted to go over there and watch him paint, I refrain. The good news is that Kayla has been out of sight, out of mind.

  Until Labor Day. Maddie’s fifth birthday.

  As planned, the three of us are in the Range Rover en route to Oak Glen for a day of apple picking. I’m in the front seat next to Finn. Adorably dressed in overalls and a striped tee, Maddie’s seated behind him. Strapped into her car seat and wearing earbuds, she’s listening to music on her iPad, Kangy on her lap. A half-hour into the drive down the 10, I’m surprised when Finn turns off the freeway onto the Robertson Boulevard exit.

  “Finn, where are we going?”

  “We’re picking up Kayla.”

  At the mention of her name, I jolt. This was so not part of the plan. My blood runs cold as Finn goes on.

  “When I mentioned our road trip to her last night, she insisted on coming along. That she needed to de-stress and get out of the city. She also said she realized she needed some quality bonding time with Maddie.”

  The cunning bitch! Bonding time with Maddie my ass! She despises the child. But she obviously despises me more. So, she wants to play games with me? Fine by me! Thanks to my parents’ globetrotting, I’m the Queen of Adventure. Let’s see who will win.

  Kayla’s luxury high-rise building is located just off Sunset Boulevard. Already outside, she’s pre-occupied on her cell phone, talking to someone via a headset when we pull into the semi-circular driveway. The attentive doorman hurries to open the back passenger door of the SUV.

  “What the fuck!?” I hear her shriek though my open window when she sees me. “You’re coming too?”

  I guess that Finn neglected to mention that I was coming along. Or that I organized the trip.

  “Get the hell out of the car. You’re sitting in my seat!”

  My blood curdling, I jerk the door open, almost slamming it into her before she jumps out of the way. Hopping out of the vehicle, I slide into the back passenger seat next to Maddie. My eyes take in Kayla as she climbs into the car. Unlike me who’s wearing jeans, a hoodie, and solid walking shoes, she’s clad in skinny white pants and a body-hugging cashmere pullover, looking more dressed for lunch at some posh restaurant than for a day of rustic apple picking. Plus she’s wearing strappy stiletto sandals, hardly ideal for navigating the hilly terrain, and carrying a matching monstrous bag. Maybe the latter will be good for gathering apples, I muse, as I fasten my seat belt.

  Kayla simultaneously buckles herself in. “You know what? On second thought, I’m glad you’re here. You can help Finn and that child pick dirty, worm-infested apples. I actually can’t believe I agreed to do this.”

  “It’s going to be fun,” pipes in Finn.

  Truthfully, it would be more fun without the stuck up bitch. Way more fun.

  The drive along the lackluster freeway is uneventful. Kayla spends most of it on her phone, chatting with clients and perusing fashion magazines, which she’s stuffed into her enormous bag. Occasionally, she looks up and asks: “Are we there yet?” the irritated tone of her voice more annoying than that of a whiny child.

  Maddie and I pass the time reading more about Oak Glen on her iPad. It does look like so much fun. In addition to apple picking, there are so many child-friendly activities, including a petting zoo, arts and crafts, and pony rides. Plus the little town is filled with charming restaurants, bakeries, and gift shops. Truthfully, I was nervous about taking asthmatic Maddie to the scenic “mile-high desert town” with its over four thousand foot elevation, but her doctor assured us she would do fine in the fresh, clean mountain air. “An apple a day keeps the doctor away,” he reminded us. Not taking any chances, I have her inhaler and medicine packed in my backpack. Fingers crossed we won’t have to use it.

  A couple hours in, the rugged San Bernardino Mountains come into view. Soon afterward, we pass a sign.

  “Look!” squeals Maddie. “Oak Glen . . . Exit Only. Yay!”

  I’m as equally happy to see the sign as I am to hear my bright little girl read the words. So is Finn.

  “You read that all by yourself, sunshine!” he beams, merging into the far right lane.

  “Yup, Daddy!” A proud cheek-to-cheek grin stretches across her face.

  Kayla looks up from her magazine. “Big whoop!”

  Wi
thin a few minutes of exiting, we ascend a twisty scenic road that takes us straight to apple country. Sitting in the backseat, I feel a little queasy, but Maddie is loving every minute as if it’s a carnival ride. I point out the many beautiful trees lining the two-lane road, some of which have multi-color leaves that resemble gemstones. An early taste of autumn in Southern California.

  Kayla goes back to reading her magazine, totally oblivious to the breathtaking scenery. Glancing over her shoulder, I see that she’s flipping through the pages of a Christie’s Contemporary Art catalogue. How ironic! My mind flashes back to the Christie’s Preview in New York . . . where Finn and I met. My eyes flicking to his handsome profile as he expertly navigates the serpentine road, I relive that encounter. That sexy, unexpected encounter that changed my life and his. A knot of desire curls in my core. I wish I was sitting in the front seat next to him. Doing all the things I did to him on our road trip to LA . . . that is, if Maddie wasn’t with us.

  Kayla’s shrill voice slices into my nostalgic, lustful thoughts. “Oh, my God! This Balthus is to die for! It’s perfect for Sheldon! He’s been desperate for one to add to his collection. We need to put in an absentee bid right away.” She immediately reaches for her phone and punches in a number.

  “Fuck! There’s no cell service here.”

  Maddie, minus her earbuds, turns away from the window. “Daddy, did Kayla just say a bad word?”

  Jesus. What is with this woman? Isn’t she aware there’s a five-year-old sitting behind her? A sweet, innocent little girl. Obviously not. She impatiently tries her phone again. Again no luck getting service.

  “Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!”

  Taking his eyes off the bumper-to-bumper road, Finn shoots her a glaring look. “Kayla, put the phone down. And watch your language. My kid’s back there.”

  Kayla jerks her head his way, her eyes full of venom. “You obviously don’t understand, darling. I’m talking about a five million dollar painting that could net me a ten percent finder’s fee. Do the math!”

  “I can do the math,” Finn replies coldly. So can I. Wow! Five hundred thousand dollars! But no amount of money is worth compromising my daughter’s emotional and physical well being.

  As Kayla huffs with frustration, my heart swells with admiration. And love. Deep-seated and unconditional. What a wonderful dad Finn is. I couldn’t have possibly chosen a better man to father my child. So protective. So loving. A longing to touch him, kiss him—everywhere I can—spreads through every fiber of my being. My lips burn with desire. Desperate to distract myself, I map out our day’s activities as we meander up the long, winding road, now passing farms. Maddie is over-the-moon thrilled to see horses and cows, and I share her excitement.

  The traffic lessens and ten short minutes later, we reach our destination at the very end of the road. Riley’s. While we’ve passed many apple farms along the way, Finn and I chose this one as it seemed to be the most child-friendly, offering a ton of activities. I unbuckle Maddie’s car seat while Finn parks the SUV. Due to how crowded it is, we’ve had to park in a lot across the street. Kayla complains.

  “Seriously, darling, can’t you park any closer? Does it look like I’m wearing hiking boots?”

  Turning off the ignition, Finn glances down at her high-heels.

  “Don’t tell me you didn’t bring sneakers or boots?”

  Kayla makes a face. “Phineas, are you kidding me? Hiking boots are for peasants, and seriously, did you really expect me to wear—and ruin!—my thousand dollar Chanel sneakers in this muck?”

  With a roll of his eyes, Finn hops out of the car, then helps Maddie out. She leaves Kangy behind.

  I follow suit, then Kayla. As she steps out of the SUV, a deafening scream pierces the air.

  “Oh my God, Phineas! You parked in mud. I may have just ruined my brand new Louboutins!”

  I glance down at her mud-covered stilettos and silently laugh. The six-inch heels are almost six-inches buried.

  The fun has just begun.

  Five minutes later, we’re standing in line to get into the farm.

  Encyclopedic Maddie excitedly tells her father about all the apples we read about. The area offers close to a hundred varieties, including heirlooms, which are no longer commercially sold. Bored out of her mind, Kayla pays little attention to my precocious little girl. She tries her phone yet again and curses under her breath when she can’t get service. Losing her patience, she pouts.

  “Jesus, Phineas. Why did you have to choose this fuh . . . farm.” By the skin of her teeth, she manages to avoid the F-bomb. “We passed dozens of them and none of them had lines.”

  “Because this one is the most fun!” chimes in Maddie. “Guess what!”

  “What!??” Kayla snaps back.

  “It has a petting zoo and a tractor ride.” She looks up imploringly at her father, with those big puppy-brown eyes you just can’t say no to. “Daddy, can we visit the animals and ride the tractor after we pick apples?”

  Finn affectionately ruffles her hair. “Of course, birthday girl.”

  “Yay!” Maddie claps her hands, then clamps her arms around her father’s long muscular legs. His face lights up while Kayla’s grows horrified.

  “Oh my God! I’m not getting near some stinky animals that can bite or riding some trailer park vehicle!” she shrieks.

  Finn is clearly annoyed by her contentiousness. He narrows his eyes at her. “Listen, Kayla, you can do whatever you want. After we go apple picking, you can check out some of the stores.”

  She huffs. “The only store I’m interested in is Neiman Marcus.” She glances down at her mud-encrusted sandals. “You owe me a new pair of shoes.” She screws up her face. “Thank you very much.”

  The obnoxious, self-centered bitch makes my blood simmer. I’ve never met anyone with such a sense of entitlement. I want to punch her in the face and actually clench my fists by my sides so I don’t.

  Despite its length, the long line to the entrance moves quickly. In a few minutes, we are at the information center where we get a brief education about the history of the family-run farm, the dos and don’ts of apple picking, as well as a reminder of all the other activities available. I’m awed. We can even make our own cider with an old-fashioned press—something I did with my parents when we went to the South of France. It was hard work, but super fun.

  About to embark on our apple picking adventure, we’re given eco-friendly paper bags which can hold up to five pounds worth of apples as well as long picks with a small basket at the end for gathering apples off the trees. Finn tells Maddie that she can share his. Kayla declines both with one word: “Seriously?”

  We’re off. Holding his pick along with a bag, Finn takes Maddie by the hand. She looks my way, her sparkling eyes gazing up at me.

  “Can I hold your hand too, Scarlet?”

  “Of course, sweetie.” I take her other hand so that she’s sandwiched between Finn and me. The warmth of her little fingers twined with mine makes my heart smile. With a jubilant Maddie jumping and skipping, we head down a long dirt road surrounded by apple trees on either side in search of the first orchard with ripe, ready to pick fruit. Occasionally, we swing Maddie into the air and she squeals at the top of her lungs. It all feels so natural. Like the three of us have walked together like this forever. People passing us smile. Several even comment: “What a sweet child you have! You’re a beautiful family!” Neither Finn nor I say more than a heartfelt “Thank you.”

  Kayla trails behind us. I don’t look back. Nor does Finn.

  We stop at the first orchard that allows us to pick apples.

  “Can you read what kind they are?” I ask Maddie.

  Studying the sign, she sounds out the word. “Brae-burn.”

  Finn is blown away. “Wow, sunshine, that’s awesome!” His eyes wide, he turns to me. “You’re an amazing teacher.”

  Pride filling me, I smile. “She’s an amazing student.” Our eyes stay locked. And you’re an amazing man.

>   I’m falling in love with my husband.

  The real truth: I’ve never stopped loving him. Ever.

  We get an “A” for apple picking. Just from the Braeburn orchard, our bag is more than halfway full. We must have over two dozen. Toting the heavy bag, Finn, who’s assumed the role of camp counselor, insists we move on to another orchard so we can bring home a variety.

  Next stop: Classic McIntoshes.

  The orchard is packed, with people of all ages clambering for the popular shiny red apples. We find a ripe tree that’s not too populated.

  Gazing up, Maddie instantly spots an apple she covets.

  “Look, Daddy! A baby apple!”

  Sitting piggyback on top of Finn’s shoulders, she aims the long pick with the basket at it.

  I look up at the apple-laden tree. Yes, in the midst of all these big red apples is a petite one. Like my baby!

  “Go for it!” Finn tells her.

  Expertly, she swipes at the tiny apple, but it refuses to drop into the basket. No matter how many times she tries, the stubborn little Mac remains dangling on the tree. I study it. It’s perfect. Rosy. Unblemished. Radiant. Feisty. Just like my sweet little girl. The apple of my eye.

  Maddie frowns. “Why won’t it come down?”

  “Sweetie, I don’t think it’s ready. I think it wants to stay with its mommy and daddy.”

  Scrunching her brows, she digests my words and then gazes back up at the tree. She points at the two mature apples that are right next to the small one.

  “Do you think those two big apples are the mommy and daddy?”

  “Yes, darling. I do. We should keep them together. They’re a family.”

  With a squeeze of my hand that makes my heart flutter, Finn gazes up. “Sunshine, I think Scarlet’s right. We should let it be. Why don’t we check out one more orchard and then we’ll have lunch.”

  Before we take another step, a tart, familiar voice descends upon us.

  “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been looking all over for you, Phineas!”

  I look over my shoulder. It’s Kayla. She looks completely disheveled, her perfectly blown hair a mess and her expensive ensemble laced with dust. Fuming, she stomps toward us, fury fueling every step. Suddenly, a few feet away, she trips over a rotten apple and goes tumbling to the ground, landing in a twisted heap.