“I was just bored. Uncle Maffew and Auntie
Natalie didn’t come over all weekend, and Mommy didn’t want to go
to the beach,” she almost pouted. She paused, grimaced as she
continued on, seemingly grasping for the good things that did
transpire over the days we’d been apart. “Mommy did play with me a
little bit, but then she got tired and took a nap. And she let me
pick out dinner and I helped her make it, too.” She smiled a little
as her attention flitted up to meet mine in the mirror. “I got lots
of time to play with my new dolls you got me, Daddy. And I got my
dollhouse all set up.”
We’d gone shopping Friday night, searching out
a dining room set for her prized dollhouse that was tucked in the
corner of her room. We’d ended up with a tiny dining room set, and
I couldn’t say no when Lizzie had asked me to add two new members
to the ever-growing miniature family. Lately Lizzie seemed to spend
more time lost in the sanctuary of their world than in her
own.
Sorrow swamped me, because I could feel my
daughter’s own. I hated it. I would do anything to be able to take
it away.
“That doesn’t sound so bad.” I made a feeble
attempt at encouraging her.
She sighed, slumped her chin in her hand as
she rested her forehead on the window, her attention focused on the
blur of the passing street. “I just don’t know why you can’t sleep
at our house. It’s better when you’re there, Daddy.”
Her words cut right through me. I fought to
gather myself, to keep it under control, because I knew I had to
stay strong for my little girl.
I forced myself to speak. “We already talked
about why I can’t right now.”
The problem was all of those reasons had come
with little conviction. I didn’t believe them myself.
“Just tell Mommy you’re sorry,” she begged
quietly. I heard the tears building in the vulnerability that wound
its way into her angel voice.
God
.
How was I going to get through another
conversation like this? We had them often, and I’d give just about
anything to offer her a different answer, to come up with a
different result.
I wanted one myself.
Sighing heavily, I scrubbed my palm over my
face, blinked as I tried to focus ahead through the sorrowful haze
that clouded my vision.
“It’s not that simple, Lizzie.” God, how much
did I wish it was.
Silence hovered in the car before she finally
spoke again. “Your voice was so loud, Daddy. You made Mommy cry.”
Her words came as a whisper, a memory that so clearly traumatized
my little girl.
That day had been the first emotion I’d seen
from Elizabeth in weeks. It’d been charged, the moment when
Elizabeth had finally broken and I’d cracked.
I’d said things I never should
have.
But Elizabeth had said them, too.
“I hate that you heard that, Lizzie, but
sometimes grown-ups have fights and we raise our voices. None of
that was directed at you.”
“But then you
left
,” she countered.
“You’re supposed to say you’re sorry when you do something
bad.”
Palpitations fluttered my heart. The deepest
sense of grief and a suggestion of awe took hold. My little girl
forever grasped so much more than I imagined she did. The
intuitiveness that always seemed veiled beneath her child-like
naivety shone through with the wise, logical words that she
spoke.
If only it were that easy.
“Your mom and I are doing the best we can
right now, sweetheart. But no matter what, we love you more than
anything. You know that, don’t you?”
Intense blue eyes met mine in the mirror,
honest and pure. “I always know that, Daddy. It just makes me sad
that you can’t stay.”
Relief assuaged some of the guilt that
wouldn’t let go, and a wistful smile pulled at my mouth. “You’re an
amazing child, Little Elizabeth.”
Lizzie blushed the brightest red and fought a
grin. Dimples dented her cheeks.
Affection pushed at my ribs.
I rarely called her that, but sometimes, I
just couldn’t help myself.
She bore little physical resemblance to her
mother, but I glimpsed her in so many things, the child a striking
reminder of a young Elizabeth.
Sweet and kind.
Timid and shy and incredibly confident in the
exact same moment.
Wise, but continuously led by her
emotions.
Good
.
That, and she shared Elizabeth’s grandmother’s
name.
“I like that name, Daddy,” she mumbled through
her shyness, that sweet little girl back again.
“I do, too, princess,” I whispered to her,
emotion cresting my mouth. I loved her so much, so much it
hurt.
She smiled a little. A silent conversation
passed between us, something that spoke of a deep understanding. On
some level, my little girl recognized what I was going through and
the way I truly felt. She knew I would go home to them if I could,
that if I could break down Elizabeth’s walls, I would.
I made a left-hand turn and merged right to
wind into the circular drop-off in front of Lizzie’s
school.
“Look!” Lizzie suddenly squealed.
I craned my head to try to take in what had
caused such a reaction in Lizzie, the child overflowing with
excitement. As I came to a full stop at the curb, she quickly
unbuckled and shot forward in her seat. She pointed out to the
sidewalk.
“What is it?” I asked, my eyes scanning the
sea of children jumping from backseats of cars, slinging backpacks
onto their shoulders, yelling and laughing as they began their
day.
“Daddy, look it…right there!” She jabbed her
finger in emphasis, and my sight finally settled on the source of
the furor that surged through Lizzie.
A wistful smile emerged on my face.
Kelsey Glenn.
She stood on the sidewalk with her father,
Logan. He knelt on a knee in front of her, helping her secure her
backpack onto her shoulders. The little girl grinned as her dad
lightly nudged her chin with the hook of his finger.
I’d met her a handful of times. Over the
summer, the two girls had become close friends. I thought it was
cute that Lizzie finally had a playmate that she gushed about
almost every time I saw her, the way Lizzie would worry if Kelsey
would like something or not, going on about Kelsey’s favorite food
or favorite color or favorite show.
There was nothing that gave me mixed feelings
like watching Lizzie grow up, to see her excited to have friends,
to talk on the phone and giggle like a teenager. She was only six,
but the last year had passed in what seemed a blink, a blip of time
that now flickered and held as memories in my consciousness. I knew
that as the years passed, they would only quicken. Lizzie would be
grown before I could make sense of it.
It made me proud and sad, ushering in a
fearful expectancy of what the future would bring.
Kelsey spent her time living between her
parents’ houses, carted between the two on whichever day belonged
to her mother or father. The two girls had been in the same
kindergarten class. As the school year had neared its ending, right
before everything had fallen apart, Elizabeth had found out her
father lived just two streets over from us, and Lizzie and Kelsey
had clung to each other over the difficult months that had
ensued.
I guess I’d never thought it possible that
Kelsey and Lizzie would end up having so much in common.
Lizzie couldn’t stop talking about
her.
“What’s her name again…Kelly…Katie…Karen?” I
teased.
“Daddy…” Lizzie drew out in a frustrated
groan. “It’s Kelsey. And she’s my very best friend. Didn’t you know
that? She even gave me a necklace that says so.”
I grinned as I peeked at my daughter in the
rearview mirror. She played with the little pendant necklace she
proudly wore around her neck. She lifted it a little higher when
she caught my eye.
“See!” she prodded.
“Well, it looks like it’s official
then.”
“Yep.” She giggled a little.
The sound filled the car, filled my heart. It
felt so good to hear her laugh. For so long, it’d been missing. And
I knew even if Elizabeth and I never healed from this, our daughter
would.
“Well, we better get you out of here so you
can catch up with her.”
I came around to the rear passenger side and
opened the door. Lizzie slid out onto the safety of the walkway and
grabbed her backpack from the seat. She slammed the door shut
behind her.
Dropping to a knee, I helped her slide her
backpack straps up her arms, then pulled her hair free from
underneath it.
Softly I smiled at her, my attention locked on
the sweetness in her vibrant blue eyes.
“You have a great day today, okay? I’m going
to be thinking about you all day and all night until I see you
again tomorrow morning. Then you’re going to come and spend
tomorrow night with me. Does that sound like a good
plan?”
She smiled a little. “Yeah, Daddy, I like that
idea.”
“Lizzie!” The peal of a high-pitched voice
reverberated across the lot. “Lizzie, over here!”
We both jerked to see Kelsey running our
direction, the biggest grin on her face. The little girl smiled up
at me as she approached. “Hi, Mr. Davison. Is it okay if Lizzie
walks with me to class?”
“That’s fine by me.”
Lizzie beamed as she squinted up at me, every
trace of her earlier melancholy erased. “Thank you, Daddy! I’ll see
you tomorrow.”
I dropped a quick kiss to her forehead. “Bye,
sweetheart. You be good. I’ll call you tonight.”
“Okay!” she said as the two turned. Giggles
rolled from them both as they shot off in the direction of the
school gates.
Logan casually walked up, wearing a pair of
cargo shorts and a tee-shirt. He shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Morning.”
“Morning,” I returned absently, my attention
on the two little girls skipping up the sidewalk.
“They sure are cute together, aren’t they?” he
mused.
“Yeah.” They really were.
“Kelsey can’t stop talking about Lizzie,” he
continued. “She asks if Lizzie can come over and play just about
every time she’s at my house.”
“Yeah?” I said, the word not really a
question, but a filler to take up the time that passed until my
daughter disappeared into the mass of students flooding into the
school hall.
“Elizabeth looked a lot better last week when
I picked Kelsey up over there. I was glad to see a little color in
her face.”
A deep frown burrowed in my brow as I cast a
suspicious glance his way.
He was looking forward, watching the girls.
His body was relaxed, chunks of his light blond hair stirred up by
the short gusts of wind. But he was working his jaw. Nervous.
Agitated.
Awareness prickled along my senses like a
solitary string that pulled at my consciousness. A warning
flare.
This asshole was digging. Waiting.
Wanting.
The anger that had smoldered for all those
months boiled, rose up in a swollen rage.
Did he think for one fucking second I’d let
him have her? That I’d stand aside and watch the woman I’d loved
for all my life fully slip from my grasp?
Yeah. Maybe I’d lost her. But that didn’t mean
I was letting her go.
He looked over at me. Flinty green eyes
narrowed as they took in my expression. He lifted his
chin.
“I’ll see you around.” Then he turned and
headed back toward his car. He pitched a fleeting glance at me from
over his shoulder before he climbed into his car.
The sharpest shot of possessiveness rattled me
straight to the core, deep enough to cut into the compulsory
resignation that had spurred me to pack my things and walk out of
Elizabeth’s house.
He pulled from the curb and out into the swarm
of merging and exiting cars. He caught the severity of my gaze as I
followed his departure. There wasn’t a god-damned thing I could do
to stop myself from staring him down.
Because it slammed me—the realization that
just because Elizabeth couldn’t stomach the sight of me didn’t mean
she might not one day want someone else.
My hands curled into the tightest fists, and I
buried them in the pockets of my slacks, struggling to hang onto my
last ounce of sanity because I knew I was about five seconds from
losing my fucking mind.
I just wasn’t rational when it came to
her.
She was mine.
She’d always been.
And I was going to make sure she always
was.