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And it was too domestic for my peace of mind. I had to remind myself that this wasn’t a true photo of domestic bliss, because we weren’t family. Specifically, they weren’t my family, because that’s not what Chris wanted. At least not from me.
So about ten minutes after the cakes and cookies had cooled, I feigned exhaustion, which wasn’t too difficult, since my hip throbbed and it was at least an hour past due for my next round of pills.
“Sorry guys, but I think I’ve reached my limit on all things but sitting on the sofa.”
Chris frowned and came to my side, resting one hand on the small of my back, his hazel eyes staring deep into mine. As if he cared.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, just tired.” I shook off his touch, hating that I wanted to lean into it and took a step back. “Take a little bit of everything, please. I need to…go sit.” I turned away from the concerned looks both Jacobs sent my way and limped to the living room in search of something to dull the physical pain.
Nothing could be done about the other pain.
Nothing but getting over it, shrugging it off.
It wasn’t the first time I was disappointed by my own expectations and I doubted it would be the last.
Chris
“Daddy, is Tara mad at me?”
I looked up from my laptop with a frown. “Why would you ask that?” I knew exactly why she would ask that, because Tara had been distant when we were all together at her place.
Lila shrugged and plopped down on the sofa next to me, her little knees digging into the cushion so we were eye to eye. “I don’t know, she seemed weird don’t you think?” Her face twisted up into a thoughtful frown. “I think she’s mad I didn’t stay with her at the hospital.”
“I don’t think that was it, sweetheart.” But something was definitely going on with Tara. She seemed normal during the tree decorating part of the evening, but then it was like a switch had been flipped and she’d backed off, putting about half a mile of space between herself and Lila. And me. “Maybe it’s just because she’s in pain. People act differently when they aren’t their best selves.”
“But she is the best!”
“Yeah, she is,” I agreed. In fact, I suspected Tara was doing her best to give me exactly what I asked wanted, which was to keep Lila safe from disappointment. Abandonment. “How about we go see her tomorrow and you can ask Tara yourself?”
My little girl’s eyes lit up, and I knew it was the right call. At least I thought it was. I hoped it was. “Really Daddy?”
I nodded. “Really.”
“Okay!” She gasped and covered her mouth. “That means I need to finish my super secret art project.”
She’d been working for days on something up in her room, and I was dying to know. “Want to share with your father?”
Lila shook her head. “Nope. It’s super secret, Daddy.” She climbed off the sofa with an adorable grin on her face.
“Right. Super secret.” I shook my head, wondering how in the hell I would handle a teenage Lila when the eight year old version ran circles around me most days. “Have fun!”
“I will! Good luck writing,” she yelled as she ran back to her room, closing the door behind her just in case I thought about sneaking a look, which I thought about every time I walked past. According to all the child rearing experts, little girls needed their privacy, and as long as she was safe, I would honor her wishes.
Instead of wondering what was keeping my daughter busy upstairs, I turned my attention back to the screen in front of me. I was ahead of schedule on my word count and still plowing forward so I focused on my still unnamed female investigator and her hunt for the Mad Monogamist, as the reporters had started to call him. The story was coming together even better than I had imagined and if I didn’t have Tara on the brain, my investigator might have a name. And an identity.
Why the hell was she so hard to forget? I’d dated enough since my divorce to know that very few women were special in any way other than in the eyes of the men who loved them. But Tara was different. She wasn’t just a strong woman with a protective streak that could benefit my little girl, she was smart and sweet and beautiful and kind. And she genuinely loved my little girl.
My phone rang and vibrated across the table and I let it ring until I was able to get through my current paragraph. Lila was upstairs, safe and sound, which meant whoever was calling could wait until I was ready to answer.
Or not.
