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“Whenever I close my eyes, I think about it!” she whispers worriedly.
My heart breaks for her.
“Well then we’ll have to give you something better to think about. Close your eyes and I want you to think of a little butterfly in a garden. What color should she be?”
“Purple.”
“Oh purple, yes. And she has white polka dots on her wings.”
“And glitter too,” Harper adds.
I smile in the dark. “Yes, a lot of glitter. All that glitter makes her shimmer in the sunlight. I want you to think of that little butterfly twirling around in the air then landing on a flower. She opens her wings and closes them again, nice and slow. She’s enjoying the flower’s sweet nectar as she takes a rest on the soft petal.”
Harper’s breathing starts to even out. Her face relaxes as I close my eyes and continue.
“Beside her, there’s another butterfly. It’s one of her friends. She has pink wings the color of cotton candy. She’s smaller than the purple butterfly, but she’s just as nice. They both stay on their petals, drinking nectar and watching the wind blow the petals of the flowers surrounding them. The sun is so warm, and the butterflies are so happy.”
For another few minutes, I keep describing the made-up scene, trying to think of anything that might calm her. Then, I let my voice fade away when I’m certain she’s fallen asleep.
In the morning, I wake up to my alarm, but Harper doesn’t stir beside me. She’s tucked in the blankets, her lips slightly parted, her hair scattered all over her pillow. She’s so cute I can barely stand it.
I’m careful as I tiptoe quietly over to my closet to grab clothes for the day. I don’t want to wake her up. I’m sure she needs to catch up on some sleep after last night. I pad down to the kitchen and home in on the coffeepot, my mouth already salivating at the thought of a freshly brewed cup. Be still my heart.
I have the bag of coffee open and am scooping beans into the grinder when Luke comes rushing into the kitchen. “Have you seen Harper?”
I add another heaping scoop. “Oh, yeah, she’s asleep in my room.”
He was already heading back out into the hall, but when he hears my answer, he jerks to a stop and turns back around. “What are you talking about? She’s in your room?”
There’s a frenzy to his words that makes my hands shake with nerves. I set down the bag of coffee beans before facing him again.
“She came into my room last night after she had a bad dream,” I start to explain.
“Okay.” He motions for me to get on with it. “So then why didn’t you put her back in her bed? Or come get me?”
I shake my head. “I guess I wasn’t thinking. I mean…I was going to put her back in her bed, but she fell asleep. And then I fell asleep…”
He rubs his forehead like he’s trying to ease a tension headache.
The whole thing seems innocent enough to me, but now I feel like I’m missing something.
“She was just so upset, I felt bad. I didn’t want to force her to go back to her room while she was crying.”
But to him, that’s beside the point.
“Don’t you see that it’s a little strange for my daughter to be sleeping with you in your room?” I flinch, trying hard to not take his tone personally. “You’re still a relative stranger to us. And besides that, you’re the chef here, Chloe. You get that, right? You’re not her nanny. What happens when she gets attached to you and then it’s time for us to move back to the city and you’re not there? What do I tell her then?”
I fumble over my words, hating that there are tears looming in the corners of my eyes. “I didn’t…I’m sorry, I didn’t think that far ahead. It was late and I guess I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s been like this from the beginning. I can’t figure out how to make this work. You and Harper…” He shakes his head as he lets his sentence die away. Then he leaves the kitchen, already heading for the stairs.
The exchange leaves me trembling. My gaze falls to the bag of coffee, but now it just seems strange to resume my task as if everything is normal.
Is it really that big of a deal that I let her sleep with me?
Now, in the light of day, I guess I see that I could have calmed her down and then carried her down to Luke’s room. That probably would have been the right choice, but she woke me up when I was dead asleep. It’s not like I had all my wits about me.
And okay, even if I didn’t make the exact right choice, I don’t understand why he’s so mad. I mean, I’m not a crazy person! I’m nice! And he knows that. I’m not a relative stranger anymore. Not at all. I’ve been here working, spending every single day with Harper and him since the start of summer.
