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Jack threw his arms around Achille. “Thanks!”
Achille hugged him back. The expression on his face, joy mingled with sadness, hit my stomach.
I sat in a chair facing the window as they played, wanting to give Achille a moment with his son. Guilt throbbed in my throat as I watched the movers roll in the boxes. It didn’t take them long. Everything in our old apartment fit in his family room. Boxes labeled with my sister’s name went into storage.
“Chugga chugga choo choo,” Jack sang, smashing a Brio train into a wooden bystander. “Auntie Violet, come play.”
“Play with your daddy.”
Jack seized a track from Achille. “No. That goes there. No. Over there.”
Sprawled on the floor, Achille put the factory block with a plume of smoke beside the apartment building. “Although, if we’re being accurate, this should be beside the projects.”
Jack frowned. “Pwo-jects?”
“Projects. It’s where poor people live. See all the smoke coming out?” He gestured toward the factory. “That’s bad. Nobody with money wants to be near that.”
“Oh. Why?”
“Because most people think factories are ugly, and they make the air bad. It’s not fair, but that’s how it is sometimes.” Achille perked up, grabbing another block. “All right. What else? The park. Trees.” He placed them next to the train station. “This’ll go by the fancy high rises. People like you and me would live here.”
“You and me?”
He grinned. “Yeah.”
I snorted and shook my head.
When the movers finished, we had a dinner of reheated lasagna. Our first meal as a family passed in silence. I spent most of it watching Achille. He ate quietly and fast, looking out of sorts. This would be a huge change for him. Much more than me.
Achille and I took turns persuading Jack to finish his supper. By the time he did, Jack could barely keep his eyes open, so I started his bedtime routine a half hour early. We got through a bath, brushing his teeth, and changing into pajamas with no tantrums. When we ushered Jack into his room, I beckoned to Achille.
“Okay, so, I usually have this board where we evaluate how he did for the day. But since today has been so crazy, I won’t bother.” I sat down, and Achille sank on the bed beside Jack. “We’re going to do a family hug. We do this every night, don’t we, Jack?”
He nodded. “Yup.”
I wrapped an arm around Jack, and so did Achille. Then I slid my other arm across Achille’s back. He did the same, his hand anchoring on my waist. His fingers seemed to burn through my shirt as we squeezed, our heads bent together.
“Before we say goodnight, we give each other a hug and a kiss.” My lips brushed Jack’s head and Achille followed suit. Jack kissed my cheek and then his father’s.
I pulled back. “Goodnight, Jack.”
Jack clung to me. “No, no, no. It’s Daddy’s turn!”
For the love of God.
I faced a smirking Achille, my cheeks burning in the dark. I hovered close, steeling the nerve. Do it, already. I closed the distance, pressing my lips onto his cheek. Just a quick peck. Hardly a kiss. But the contact sent a shiver down my spine, a rush of something forbidden and exhilarating.
“No,” Jack burst. “Kiss him on the lips.”
Achille chuckled, and I shook my head. “That’s a bit too bossy for me, mister.”
I tucked him in bed, pulling the covers to his chin. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Auntie…Daddy,” Jack murmured.
“Night, kiddo.”
Jack’s eyes fluttered, and we disentangled ourselves. Achille’s hand lingered on my waist a moment too long, sending a cascade of butterflies through my stomach. I stepped back, needing to put a mile between us.
