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“Well,” Grace says, giving the little girl a wide grin. “I’m glad she’s feeling better, and I’m glad you’re back to work.”
We chat a little longer before I carry Aria back into the daycare. You’d think she’d never been here before because she’s clingy. It takes nearly all day for her smile to arrive and for her to finally settle down. Of course she cries when I pull her out of the swing because she’s grown comfortable once again and doesn’t want to leave.
Shadow takes us home, and I decline his help when getting out of the SUV. He’s driving the one Harley always drives so the car seat base is already inside. After he tells me to leave the base, that he’ll be the one picking me up again tomorrow, I give him a wave from the front porch. He stays in the vehicle but the window rolls down.
“Make sure to lock the door and set the alarm.”
I nod that I understand and enter the house after unlocking the door.
Aria has fallen asleep on the drive, and I leave her in the car seat for a few minutes while I run to my room to change into comfortable clothes. I’ve actually enjoyed this part of being home alone. Not having to wear a bra all day and night because there’s no telling when I’ll need to help with the baby has been wonderful. Aria doesn’t mind that I’m a little underdressed.
I take a break on the sofa, letting my eyes flutter closed, all while wondering if I’ll ever feel normal again. Before I was concerned about my safety, and to a point I still am, but damn it, I’m tired.
I manage a twenty-minute nap before Aria’s giggle wakes me up.
She seems quite content to play with the mobile attached to the handle of her car seat but I feel horrible for leaving her in it.
“Are you playing, sweet girl?”
I lean down and pull her from the car seat, and she starts to rumble with a protesting cry before she notices me carrying her toward the walker. She loves that thing. Before long, she’s going to be running around the house on her own two feet. She’s already pulling up on furniture when she’s supervised.
“I’ve got to make dinner. Are you hungry? Daddy won’t let you have new things so it’s rice cereal and smooshed green beans again.”
She makes a raspberry noise that makes me think she’s refusing the entrée selection, and I laugh as I head into the kitchen.
I’m standing with the freezer and fridge door open, trying to decide what to eat, when the phone rings.
I rush to it because there are only two people who would ever call my phone and both of them are away working.
A FaceTime request from Harley shows on the screen, and I answer it immediately.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I got a break and wanted to see my girl.”
I grin, knowing my cheeks are starting to turn pink.
“Can you put her on?”
“Crap. Y-yeah,” I sputter, feeling like a fool for mistakenly thinking he was referring to me. “It’s your daddy.”
I get behind Aria in her walker and hold the phone out at arm’s length so she can see him.
I watch his face as he looks to the left of his screen, knowing that he’s looking at me before he turns his gaze to his daughter.
Awkwardly, I hold the phone for a minute or two while he coos at her and reminds her how much he loves her.
“Can we speak privately?”
“She’ll only chew on the phone if I leave the room,” I explain. “But I can try. If the call disconnects then—”
“You and I,” he clarifies. “Bye, sweet girl.”
He has a smile on his face, one I only see when she’s involved, and the second I stand and start to walk out of the room, it easily disappears.
I want to berate him for making me leave the room. It’s not like she can really understand what he has to tell me.
“Want to explain why you’re dressed like that?”
I look at myself in the small video in the corner, scrunching my nose. “I’m wearing a tank top and shorts. Can’t you see the straps? I’m not naked or anything.”
I pull the phone out further, almost to arm’s length, the way it would’ve been in order to keep Aria from being able to grab it while he was speaking with her.
“Jesus, Ali. Are you being serious right now?”
He looks over his shoulder before turning around so his back is to a wall.
“Are you purposely trying to push boundaries? Test my resolve? Entice me?” His voice grows angrier with each question.
I take a long deep breath before responding because there’s no telling where in the world this man is, and I’m caring for his child. It wouldn’t be fair to hang up on him and not answer the phone when he inevitably called back. He’s not really one to let someone else get the last word.
