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Lev lifts his weight off the back of the chair and turns to Max, staring at him intently. “Were you born under a rock, or have you not heard of Christmas in July, you dumb fuck?”
“If you put up a tree during July, I will personally press a knife in your chest,” Max says, unamused.
“It sounds like you were neglected as a child if you don’t enjoy Christmas,” Lev says.
I cough, trying to break up their argument, but it does nothing.
“It sounds like you were coddled as a child if you enjoy it that much.”
“Enough,” I mutter, and they both shut up. While I get both viewpoints, I don’t think this is the best place to hash it out.
“Well, what do you think?” Lev encourages me to answer, and I just look at him. “You enjoy Christmas, right?”
I smile and shake my head. “Neglected child here.”
He looks away from me quickly and puts his head down. I hope I didn’t make him uncomfortable, but what the fuck did he expect? Did he want me to say I love red and green thrown all around my house and twinkle lights? Oh, maybe I’ll leave the fireplace off so Santa can make it down the chimney.
Can’t forget about the fucking milk and cookies.
The kids regather on the stage and perform two more dances, all of them incredible. Alyna owns the stage. A woman stands next to them and begins to thank everyone for coming to the performance. They go behind the curtains for a while.
“Uncle Misha!” a kind, gentle voice calls from behind me. I turn to see Alyna walking with Sloane and Anya.
I kneel to the ground and open my arms for the little one. She jumps into my arms, her hair bow hitting me in the face, and I smile through the uncomfortable feeling. Alyna feels tiny in my arms, yet I want to hug her as tight as possible.
Her feet hang while I hold her on my side. She traces the ink on my neck and smiles. “Did you see me up there?” she asks.
“What kind of a question is that?” I ask. “You’re all I saw.”
Her giggle is high-pitched, just like Anya’s was. I lift her over my shoulders. Lev, Max, and Dimitri talk to her about the show while I hold her up. Her small fingers wrap around my index fingers to keep herself steady.
It’s moments like these that will be drilled into her mind forever. Having so many people care for her—people who would do anything for her—is priceless. This little girl obsessed with Disney movies, ballet, and feeding the fish will end up being the most incredible person I know. As time passes, the déjà vu she feels won’t leave a bad taste in her mouth. She’ll only have good memories to keep in her mental scrapbook. Memories like this—where we all cheer for her because she’s all we see.
It’s the happy memories that sustain us. Her heart won’t be tainted with the devil’s wrath—not if I have a say in it. I want her to imagine the world in her hands, because it is. Anything she wants, she’ll get.
Sloane crosses her arms and gives me a weak smile while she looks at me and then Alyna. When she looks at me like that, I can’t do anything but forget my anger. It’s the gentle look in her eyes that makes them appear soft.
We all catch up for what feels like an hour. The entire auditorium clears out, and Alyna dances on the stage by herself. Dimitri tells me he plans on leaving me to go back to the house with Anya soon, and I don’t blame him. I’m glad he’s stayed with me as long as he has, but his family needs to come first.
As we say our goodbyes, Sloane grabs onto my arm and we make our way to the entrance of the building. Opening the door, a huge gust of wind blows past us. The lights make the pelting rain look like mist as it falls from the sky, splashing onto the concrete.
Before I can offer my jacket to Sloane, she looks up at me with a grin and runs outside. When I chase after her, she stops to grab my hand with a wide smile plastered across her face. Why the fuck does she enjoy this? Better yet, why is her smile making me enjoy getting drenched with water?
When we make it to the car, she looks at me but doesn’t utter a word. It’s the kind of look that gives me the ability to read her mind. For Sloane, I’ve come to understand it’s the little things in life that mean the most to her. Running to the car was enough to give her the biggest smile. It’s the kind of smile I’d like to give her with my words.
I shake my head and start the car, driving back onto the main road. She stays silent and picks at the skin surrounding her fingernails. Her head turns to face mine, but she’s quick to turn away.
Wishing she’d just get on with it and say what she needs to say, I ask, “What’s on your mind?”
“Can you pull over?”
I give her a worried look. “Are you sick?”
“Could you just pull over?”
I do as she says and move to the side of the road. “This isn’t really a good place to stop,” I tell her and shift the car into park.
Just as I turn to look at her, she reaches over and pulls my face close to hers. Her lips press against mine, biting on my bottom lip. In the split second that her skin touches mine, every nerve in my body is electrified with greed and anticipation.
