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Of course, I don’t say that. I just nod and give her a reassuring smile. “I’m okay, Mom.”
“Good,” she replies, looking pleased. “Well, I should get going. Don’t forget about family dinner on Sunday.”
“Of course,” I say with my hand on the door.
After my mother leaves, I find myself standing there, frozen in place. I’m still reeling from whatever that was.
What was that?
I can’t decide if I should feel good or bad about what happened. Was it wrong to take advantage of Briar? Or let another man touch her like he did? I’ll admit that watching him kiss her felt like slapping some sense into me.
It was like finding a part of myself I didn’t know existed but only getting a taste. I wantmore.
Finally leaving the front door, I walk up the stairs to find Abby clumsily putting on her bathing suit. Briar is there helping her, and the moment she hoists the straps over her shoulders, Abby takes off in a sprint as if she can’t get in the pool fast enough.
“You need sunblock!” Briar shouts after her.
With our daughter gone, it’s just Briar and me, and the moment our eyes meet, there is a sudden tension between us. Was Dean right when he said we suck at communication? Why can’t I just talk to my wife about what happened? It’s definitely ameproblem.
“I should…go with her,” Briar says, rising from the floor.
“Yeah, of course,” I stammer. There won’t be time for that conversation today, not with our six-year-old around.
I try to go back to work on my laptop, but it’s futile. There is too much swirling through my mind. Instead, I walk out back, where Abby is splashing in the pool while Briar sits on the side with her feet in the water.
“Daddy, look how long I can hold my breath!” Abby shouts, mispronouncing breath with anfinstead of athbecause of the missing teeth in the front of her mouth. A smile stretches across my face as I watch her.
She sticks her face under the water for no more than fifteen seconds. “Good job, peanut.”
When she wipes away the wet hair stuck to her face, she looks up at the apartment above the garage. “Will you ask your friend to come swim too?”
Briar and I glance nervously at each other.
“No, honey. He’s probably busy,” Briar says softly.
“Can you just ask him?” she begs. “He can hold his breath for a long time. Mommy had to save him.”
Briar chuckles to herself as I glance between them.
“Please, Daddy!” Abby whines.
“We said no,” I reply, sitting on one of the chairs by the pool. “Stop begging, Abby.”
Just then, she waves up at the apartment. “There he is!”
Briar and I turn to look up to find Dean staring out the window. A moment later, he steps out onto the landing outside the apartment. Awkwardly, he waves down at us.
“Will you come swimming with me?” Abby asks.
“Um…” Dean stammers. “I don’t…think so.”
“Please…” she whines.
“Abby, what did I say about begging,” I say, scolding her just as Dean cuts in.
“Fine, I guess.”
As he disappears into his apartment, Briar and I share another nervous look. After our morning, it feels unnerving to play with our daughter like nothing happened.
