AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Sweetie. Be good for Georgia, okay?”
We’re standing in the doorway of Leo and Georgia’s apartment upstairs, and Laila is trying to pull her hand out of mine, her body nearly quivering with excitement.
“Laila.” I firm my voice, drawing her attention to me. “I mean it. Georgia is trusting you to help make decorations. I need to know you’re going to pay attention to her.”
Laila stills and looks up, giving me her newly patented humoring-Dad smile. “I will.”
When Georgia stopped by last night asking if Laila wanted to help make wedding decorations the next day, I was hesitant. Not that my daughter is bad at following directions, and as an admittedly biased parent, I think her artwork is great. But having her make actual wedding decorations…
“Well…” I hedged. “Are you sure? She’s only seven.” At Laila’s scowl, I amended quickly, “Almost eight.”
“Yes.” Georgia smiled down at Laila. “I have most everything done already, but I had a last-minute idea. Since Leo and I love playing games so much, I’m going to be making some mini-Scrabble sets for each table. I thought Laila might like to help.”
At Laila’s enthusiastic yes, it was decided. I’d bring her over at ten in the morning, and Georgia would bring her back around two. “Enough time for us to make all the sets, and have lunch,” Georgia explained, giving me a conspiratorial look. “But if you need more time…”
Time alone with Thea? I have no complaints about that.
“I’m sure Laila will be an excellent helper.” Georgia opens the door wider and gestures to the piles of Scrabble boxes sitting on the floor in the living room. “I have everything ready.” Her gaze dips to Laila. “And I was thinking for lunch, we could order pizza? I heard it’s your favorite.”
“Yes!” Laila cheers, beaming at Georgia. Then she turns to me. “Dad. I’ll be good. I promise. You can go now.”
“Okay, okay.” Chuckling, I hug Laila and say a quick goodbye to Georgia, extracting a promise that she’ll call me if she needs anything.
Georgia pats my arm. “We’ll be fine, Ben. Go spend some time with Thea.”
Yes. Time alone with Thea.
Now that we’ve been staying at Blade and Arrow, it’s been a little more challenging finding private time, just the two of us. And as much as I love my daughter, I miss having that special time with Thea.
Time to really make sure she’s okay—that she’s not just putting on a front because she doesn’t want to worry Laila.
Time to give my undivided attention to Thea. To give her massages and kisses and—
Not sex. Not yet. It’s only been a little over a week since her concussion, and I don’t want to take the chance of causing a setback.
But we can still cuddle on the couch, sharing kisses and maybe some tamer things. I’ll make lunch, and give Thea a back rub, try to work out some of the stress she’s been carrying. And maybe we can take some time to talk about the future—something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately.
I know what I want, and I think Thea wants the same thing. I’m just not sure about it. And I’ve been hesitating bringing up another serious topic when she’s dealing with so much already.
Maybe today will be the right time.
When I open the door to my apartment, I’m expecting to see Thea in the same place as when I left less than ten minutes ago. She was going through donated books, starting the time-consuming process of inventorying them so they’ll be ready to add to the collection once the library reopens.
I asked if it was too much for her, if she should leave it to one of the other librarians, but Thea assured me she was feeling fine, and it made her happy to see all the books people donated. So how could I argue with that?
But she’s not on the couch. Or anywhere in the open concept living-dining-kitchen space. And a sliver of worry works its way deeper, as I think, it was too much. I knew Thea shouldn’t be working on the computer and reading. Now she’s in pain, has a headache, maybe even got dizzy…
“Thea?” I force my voice to stay calm, even though I’m feeling anything but. Ever since the fire, my protectiveness has been in overdrive, and it’s a battle not to jump to conclusions every time Thea shows any possible sign of discomfort.
“Ben?” Her voice comes from the direction of the bedroom. She doesn’t sound hurt. Or sick. But still.
Setting off at a brisk pace, I cross the living room and head toward the hallway. “Thea. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” There’s a smile in her words, and the pressure in my chest eases a little. “I have… well. Just come in the bedroom.”
Of all the things I was expecting, this wasn’t it.
And I’m speechless for a second.
