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She was getting far too attached. She was seriously falling for him all over again.
Nothing good would come of this, she reminded herself, vigorously brushing her hair. He wasn’t hers. She wasn’t his type. Hadn’t she learned anything from last time?
Eyes stinging, Payton forced herself to action, twisting her dark red curls into a knot on top of her head before gathering keys, wallet, and loose change, depositing all in her bright orange and red striped leather bag.
She collected the girls from the nursery. Thank God for the twins. She adored their chatter, their high spirits, their sense of fun. Like her, they loved adventurers.
Outside, Gia’s hand in her left and Liv’s in her right, they strolled down the street hop-hopping every third step at Gia’s insistence.
“Mommy,” Liv’s small voice trilled in the golden sunshine.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Where are we going?”
“Shopping. Playing,” Payton answered thinking that the sun was gorgeous, glorious yellow light, and the leaves on the trees shone vibrant green.
She drew a breath, reveling in the fullness of the afternoon, telling herself that this—it—was all…the highest, the best, the girls the three of them together in beautiful Capri. What more could one ask for?
Life.
“That’s it?” Livia persisted.
“Maybe the hair salon.” Payton hated the sudden squeeze of her chest, the air pinched as if caught in a fist. “And then we’ll get some ice cream.”
Gia stopped hop-hopping, and pulled the others to a stop, too. “Are we getting our hair cut?”
It’s not a big deal, Payton reminded herself. This is minor. In the big picture hair means nothing. “No, sweet pea. Just Mommy is getting her hair cut.”
“Cut?” Liv chimed.
“Yes, shortened for the winter, I think.”
Gia’s forehead wrinkled and she gazed up and about at the cloudless blue sky with the endless sunshine. “But it’s not winter, Mommy.”
“No, but it will be and I thought I’d simplify things. Besides, change is good.”
Despite Payton’s cheerful tone, the girls gazed at her wide-eyed, pensive, their easiness gone.
“Short like Gramma’s?” Gia challenged.
Payton held her smile although her jaw had begun to ache. “I’m sure there are other short styles that aren’t quite so severe, don’t you think?”
Liv’s dark blue eyes watered. “But Mommy I love your hair. You have bea-u-tiful hair.”
“Thank you, baby. You have beautiful hair, too.” And Payton hugged the girls, touched, pained.
She didn’t want this, either, but far better she do the big chop at once then watch her hair fall out in clumps, and far better the girls know about it in advance then it be some secret shock later. “Well, you two come with me and help me pick out a new style. It’ll be fun. You’ll be my advisors, right?”
They were walking again and the sunlight dappled the pavement but the girls had lost some of their exuberance. Livia clung tightly to Payton’s hand and Gia shot her mother curious side glances.
“Mommy,” Gia said after a moment. “Will your hair grow back?”
Payton squeezed Gia’s hand. “Of course.”
The girls reluctantly let the subject go and they walked the rest of the way talking about more cheerful subjects.
Entering town, they crossed the wide square with the beautiful stone plaza. Flowers bloomed everywhere, riots of color in huge glazed planters and friendly wrought iron window baskets.
They were just a block from the stylish hair salon when Livia stretched out an arm and cried, “Look! Daddy! He’s back!”
Payton felt a thrill as Marco headed their way. “You’re back early. We didn’t expect you until later tonight.”
“Wrapped up things sooner than I expected,” he answered, swinging the twins up into his arms. He leaned over to kiss Payton but she nervously turned her head, giving him her cheek instead of her mouth.
She saw the flicker in his eyes, her cheek wasn’t what he’d wanted. From his expression she didn’t know whether he was angry or amused, but he dutifully kissed her cheek and let it slide. “Where are you three heading?”
Payton adjusted the straps of her oversized bag. “We’re just running errands.” She prayed the girls wouldn’t say a word about the hair appointment. She knew Marco loved her hair long, but he wasn’t the one who’d have to watch it fall out in clumps. “And then we’re going to get an ice cream.”
“Ice cream? You girls like ice cream?” Marco teased, grooves forming on either side of his mouth as he smiled at Gia and Liv.
“Yes!” the girls squealed in unison, delighted by the attention. They’d enjoyed getting to know Marco better. The starchy uneasiness had finally begun to disappear.
“Mommy’s getting her hair cut,” Liv announced solemnly.
Oh, damn. Payton hid her frustration with a bright smile but Marco wasn’t buying it.
He looked at her through narrowed eyes. “She is?”
“Mmm, all off,” Gia added sharply. “Short.”
“I don’t like short,” Liv cried. “I like Mommy’s hair long.”
Marco set the girls down. “Well, then maybe Mommy doesn’t have to cut her hair today.”
Payton could feel his displeasure and instead of ducking his gaze, she lifted her chin and met it head on. This was her business, not his. The cancer was her cancer, not his. The treatment was hers as well. In the end she was the one sick. In the end it was her body under siege. “I have an appointment. I can’t cancel at this late notice.”
“Sure you can,” Marco returned. “I’ll cancel it for you and leave a generous tip. They won’t complain. They understand things come up.”
“Marco.”
“No. This is the girls’ vacation. Our vacation. You can do this later. In fact, it’d probably be easier later. For everyone involved.”
She wanted to be angry with him. She wanted to show him—remind him—that she was independent and capable of making decisions on her own, but truthfully, she didn’t want to upset the girls. Not this week.
Not when she wanted to create lasting, happy memories.
So Marco canceled the appointment and then joined them on their errands around town. And Marco took their errands very seriously indeed. He read all the labels on the different sunblocks. He directed the shoe salesman toward the sandals he preferred, although in the end the twins got the pair they liked best. He tried hat after hat on Payton’s head until he found the perfect one, with the brim not too small, not too floppy, and without any ridiculous flowers or ribbons.
Payton fought the urge to hurry him. Three simple errands had never taken so long and yet he obviously enjoyed being part of the shopping and selection process.
“Done?” she asked, after popping into a corner convenience store to pick up some sweets and fun magazines for Pietra, the young woman Marco had hired to help look after the girls.
“If you are,” he answered.
“Yes.”
“Then let’s get ice cream!” the girls begged, drooping in the afternoon heat. “Now? Please?”
Marco agreed and they ducked into a semidark store where an old ceiling fan gently whirred and the air felt deliciously cool.
“Ah,” Payton sighed, sinking into a delicate wrought iron chair. “It feels great in here.”
“It’s not that hot outside.” Marco withdrew his wallet and paid for the girls’ ice cream.
“I’m from San Francisco,” she answered, pulling out a seat for Livia to sit down and then a chair for Gia. “When I’m not at work I live in sweatshirts.”
“You glamour-puss.”
Payton laughed. She liked it when Marco teased her. She liked it when things were easy between them…friendly. “I can’t help that my ancestors were from the Nordic countries where everything was ice and snow.”
He returned to the table with a small cup of gelato for her. “Thankfully there’s no ice in your veins. You run about as hot as they come.”
