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“You’re so good with him,” she states.
“Am I?”
“You are.” The question is in her voice. Curiosity over what happened to my child’s mother. I’m grateful that she hasn’t asked me yet. “You definitely do a good job.”
At that compliment, Timothy lifts his head and looks at her. The little tyke starts reaching for her and cries.
Instinct makes her reach back, but then she stops. She looks to me though.
“Vincent, I know you have a thing about me touching your child, but I swear to God I won’t hurt him.”
“It’s not that.” It was never that. “You’re… the first woman I’ve been with since …” God, I can’t say it. “Outside family and the people who work for us, you’d be the first to hold him.”
“Well, maybe that’s no bad thing seeing as how he seems to like me. It’s going to be hard to be around a seriously cute baby for the next couple of weeks and not hold him.”
She stands up and makes her way over to us, and when she stretches out her hands, I hand Timothy over to her. It feels like a big deal for me. So does watching her hold him. I’m having a hard enough time as it is separating what I feel for this doll, and this just made it worse.
Instantly, he stops crying and takes a lock of her hair.
“You’re a little pumpkin belly,” Ava coos, fussing over him, and the little devil starts giggling then laughing when she tickles his tummy.
“Jesus, he’s actually smiling.”
“He is so cute,” she bubbles.
Marguerite comes back and seems happy to see Ava holding Timothy. She gives me a look of awe and nods her head.
“That’s the first I’ve seen him smile all week,” Marguerite says.
“Well, I hope he continues to smile.” Ava hands Timothy to her, and I feel genuine relief when he doesn’t start crying.
“Wonderful. Well, it’s bedtime. Good night, all.”
“Good night,” I reply while Ava smiles wide.
She returns to her chair and looks to me. “See, he was fine.”
Maybe… but I’m not.
I rest my elbow on the table and look at her.
“I know you want to ask, so just ask.”
“What?”
“You want to know what happened to her. My wife.” I make it sound like I’m okay with her asking, but if I were, she would have had the story by now.
“I would never want to pry like that. I know I pried enough that night.”
“Why’d you go up there?”
A dimness appears in her eyes that catches my attention. “I wanted… I wanted to see if there was something nicer about you. Something or some part of you that might not think of me as a whore.”
I don’t think I could possibly feel worse.
My shoulders slump. “Ava, you’re not a whore.”
“No? Wasn’t it you I gave myself to? I knew what I was doing when I made the offer. I must have.” Her hands start to shake.
