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I bark out a surprised laugh. “Thelaceyone?”
“That’s what I said.”
I swallow back my laughter and continue running the comb through her hair. “Well, the lace one was a gift from Auntie Lana. It’s for special occasions.”
It was actually a hand-me-down from Lily, and she only had it because she was the flower girl in Mitchell’s sister’s wedding. Yuliana has never once had a place to wear a fancy dress like that.
“Daycare is special.”
“Well, of course it is. But—”
“I’m special, too,” she pouts.
“Okay, how about this? What if we wear the outer space dress with light-up shoes, braids in your hair, and I’ll spray some glitter on the ends? You remember the glitter spray we bought for your tooth fairy costume?”
Yuliana’s eyes widen until they’re half the size of her face. “Yes! I want the glitter! And a necklace.”
Dang it. Just when I thought I’d almost won this battle without any tears.
“No necklaces at daycare. I’m sorry, Honey Bunny. It’s not safe.”
“But I weared necklaces before,” she argues.
“Not to daycare. You only get to wear them when Mama is around to keep an eye on you.”
Yuliana sags in defeat, reaching her grabby little hand out for the necklace hanging around my neck. “I want a pretty necklace, too. This one is special. I need a special necklace.”
I pry her damp fingers from around my mother’s gold locket. Immediately, I have flashbacks to when Yuliana was a baby and constantly yanked on my necklace. I ended up tucking it away in a jewelry box until she was two and less grabby. I didn’t want the chain to break.
Lana and Alexis both questioned why I still wore the necklace at all, considering it very likely was given to my mom by the man she cheated on our dad with. I don’t have an answer for that. Let bygones be bygones, I guess?
Whatever happened before my mom gave the necklace to me, I don’t really know. It was important to her, and she was important to me. That’s all I need to know.
“You are so special, which is why I’ll give you this necklace one day,” I say. “Just like Grandma gave it to me. But that will be a long, long, long time from now.”
She pouts. “How many days?”
“Thousands. Ten thousand,” I say dramatically. “Maybe twenty thousand, if I’m lucky.”
Yuliana’s understanding of numbers and time is pretty dicey at best, so she doesn’t know how to respond to that. In a minute or two, she’s found my scented lotions and has forgotten about the necklace entirely.
I watch her dab herself with at least eight different scents, unable to choose between them, and I can’t imagine our lives ever not being like this.
Yuliana and me. Me and Yuliana.
Natalia made some good points: life will change one day, and when that happens, I could regret not bringing Kirill into the fold.
I know what that kind of regret feels like all too well. It’s the same way I’ve felt the last few years ever since I figured out my dad didn’t blow up his marriage with Mom and abandon me.
I mean, he did abandon me, but there were extenuating circumstances. Mostly that Mom was in love with another man.
My entire life was spent proving to him and myself that I didn’t need him. That I didn’t want him anywhere near me. So needless to say, it’s been hard to turn that mindset around on a dime. Even after Alexis called me last week.
“Dad is getting worse,” she said, cutting straight to the chase. I was at the tail end of a half hour lunch break and didn’t have time to chit chat. “He’s been sick, but it’s getting bad. It would be nice if you could come see him.”
“I don’t know how I would swing that. I have work and Yuliana has school.”
“Daycare,” Alexis corrects. “She goes to daycare, and she can miss that. Plus, you know Lana and I will pay for travel.”
