The next time I wake up, it’s because, from somewhere beyond my conscious state and bedroom, I hear laughter.
It’s the sound of my daughter’s sweet giggle followed by a deep, resonating chuckle.
I bolt upright in bed, the sweat of panic beading in the hollow of my throat.The move is clearly the wrong one because a sharp pain hits me squarely between my brows, nearly knocking me back over.My stomach rolls with nausea.I manage to prop a hand behind me and steady my head with the other.
Taking deep breaths, I slowly exhale and take stock of my current state.
Blankets are thrown around the bed, and my sheets and pajamas are saturated and sticky from sweat.I give an experimental sniff at my underarm and practically recoil from the stale, nasty stench.
Regardless of my current state of dress and odor, my immediate priority is checking on the safety and well-being of Lenni.
I untangle my legs from the blankets, using energy I don’t have to throw the covers back and swing my legs over to the side of the bed, my bare feet touching the floor.Once again, my body betrays me, and my head lolls forward in a wave of dizziness.I groan and swallow down the bile that threatens to escape my throat.
The next minute—or it could be ten because right now time is an unknown quantity—a large, masculine body appears beside me, hands positioned on my shoulders to hold me upright.My head swirls in dizziness, the edges of my vision bursting with white light.
“Hang on there, Cherry.Let me help you.”
With strength I didn’t know I possessed, I tilt my head and peer into Dane’s earnest gray eyes.
I lick my dry lips and try to speak through a parched mouth.
“Lenni?”I croak out, the words like fire from my burning throat.
Those gray eyes crinkle and his mouth curves at the corners to offer me a smile.
“She’s doing great.I have her coloring at the table right now, but she’s dying to get out on her bicycle.”
My body sags in relief.And then I’m hit with another panicked thought, and my heart bottoms out in my stomach.
I gasp.“What day is it?How long have you been here?And when…?”
Before he can answer, Lenni runs into my room, bringing with her a barrage of happy, high-pitched chatter.
“Mama!You’re awake, Mama!”She tries to reach up on her tiptoes to hug me, but I shift my weight to pull away, and Dane puts out a hand to stop her.
“Hold up there, Lulu Lennon,” he says with such familiarity that I want to cry.“Your mommy is still really sick.”
Technically, I got this bug from her.With her starting the new daycare a few weeks back, she brought all the ick germs home with her.I’m just thankful my sweet girl didn’t get as sick as I am with this virus.There is nothing worse than when you have a child sick in your arms and there is nothing you can do but wait it out.
Disappointment washes over her face, her smile dampening until Dane lifts her up in his arms, then she grins wildly.
My ovaries dance and flip at the sight of him doting on my daughter.Ourdaughter.
For five years, I managed to avoid this very image in my head because I never wanted—or expected—it to happen.To me, it would be the worst if he swooped in, stole her heart, and then left her devastated when he got bored and left us.
I’ve seen it too many times to friends who were children of divorce.The mothers were left to pick up the pieces while the dads just left their families behind.
Nothing in this world can be as damaging to a child’s psyche than loving their father and then losing that relationship when he moves away and on with his life.
And shit.It might already be too late because I can see how Lenni looks adoringly at Dane.
My heart clenches in fear, and I want to protect her own heart from that pain.
On the positive, at least she doesn’t know Dane is her father.And I need it to stay that way.For the present time, Dane can just be her good friend, Ax.
“It’s okay, Mama.I’m not sick.Ax gave me my witamins and milk so I can be strong.”Lenni flexes her little bicep to prove she’s immune.“And Mama, he played Olaf with me.And we watched Moana.And we played hockey.And he made me pancakes wiff lots of surr-up.But not bananas.I told him I don’t like those.”
She shakes her head and wrinkles her nose in an icky face of disgust.Lenni has always been a good eater, trying almost anything I put in front of her.She’s a huge fan of broccoli, tomatoes, peas, even bell peppers, eating them like candy.But it’s the smell and texture of bananas she’s never been able to get over.
