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“Can I see your scar again?” Isla looked up at her, hopefully. She was really working on not going to sleep tonight.
“Just for a moment, then you have to promise to go to sleep. You’re catching the bus to school tomorrow, remember?”
“I remember.” Isla nodded. “I’m going to sit next to Casey.”
Meghan pulled her tank up, and rolled her yoga pants down, until the shiny white scar from her c-section was visible.
“This is where I came out,” Isla said softly, tracing her finger along the scarred skin. “Because I was special and wanted to be born so quickly.”
“That’s right.” Meghan’s chest contracted, because sometimes the day of Isla’s birth felt all too vivid. The shock of early labor, the fear when she was told she’d need an emergency cesarian because she was at risk of losing the baby.
And all those questions. Did they want her to contact the father? Her parents? And each time she’d had to say no. None of them were interested. She had to be strong and do it all on her own.
“Can you tell me about my daddy again?” Isla asked, falling back onto her pillow. “I like that story.”
“Sure.” She’d never hidden the truth of Isla’s father from her, though she’d kept the details as child-friendly as possible. It was natural that she was curious about where she came from, but Meghan never wanted her to feel abandoned either. It was a fine line, and right now she kept it light.
“Once upon a time, there was a boy and a girl who loved music. And they met in a field full of instruments and fell for each other.”
“I like this part.” Isla smiled, her eyelids fluttering as she lost the fight against exhaustion. “This is when I was made.”
“That’s right. We decided to make you and grow you, but that I’d be the one to take care of you.”
“But one day I might meet my daddy.”
“Yes, one day.” Meghan’s voice was soft. “When we are all ready for it.”
“But I don’t need a daddy because I have you.”
Meghan smiled. “Yes, you do, baby.”
“And Rich. He’s like a daddy. He’s taking me swimming in the ocean now that my foot’s better.”
Meghan blew out a mouthful of air. “Let me finish the story.”
Isla’s lips curled. “Sorry. We were in the field, right?”
“That’s right.” Meghan stroked Isla’s warm brow.
“And the daddy and the mommy were growing a baby.”
Isla was fast asleep by the time she heard the knocking on her door. Meghan frowned and put her eye to the peephole, her heart doing a little skip when she saw Rich on the other side.
“Hey.” She smiled as she opened the door. “Everything okay?”
“Can I come in?” he asked. His jaw had a dark shadow of beard growth on it, and there was a tic where he might have been holding it too tight, and his hair was wet as though he’d just been in the shower.
“Sure.” She stepped aside, taking a deep breath in which she instantly regretted. The deep, masculine scent of his shower gel washed over her, making her muscles tense at his closeness.
“Is Isla awake?” His voice was low.
“She fell asleep an hour ago. She fights it, but once she’s down she’s usually asleep until morning.”
“That’s good. I wanted to talk to you about something.”
Meghan inclined her head at the balcony. “We can talk out there if you want.” She could feel the edginess wafting off of him as he followed her closely to the balcony. His body was close enough that she could feel the warmth of him against her back. Unlatching the doors, she opened them wide and gestured for him to follow her.
“I don’t come out here very often,” she told him. “I know it’s supposed to be safe but the thought of Isla out here makes my stomach turn.”
