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Bambi nods with a heavy sigh. “Yes! Just screaming and clawing at the seats and window and I couldn’t even park, so I just whipped a U-turn and drove straight back here.” She grabs myarm and shakes her head. “I’m sorry, Clara. But even I have my limits. I’m tapping out and you’re tapping in. Go help the reigning champion.”
I don’t get a chance to ask her what she means. She’s out of sight and earshot before I can say, “What?”
My heart breaks and bursts and breaks all over again when I step into Demyen’s office.
Everything that used to be on his desk is scattered all over the floor. Willow’s “project,” a colorful collage of painted flowers and stick figures in the wall facing his desk, remains unfinished and forgotten ever since that horrible day. Those art supplies, too, have been thrown across the room.
Willow is screaming, and sobbing, and trying with every ounce of her strength to wrestle free from Demyen’s embrace. But he’s holding her in a bear hug from behind, murmuring comfort into her ear, reminding her that she’s home. She’s safe.
“Look!” He turns both of them so she can see me. “Mommy’s here!”
Willow instantly goes limp.
The only sound coming from her now are the shaking, rasping sobs that slowly, gradually fade into the melancholy silence she’s embraced as her new normal.
Demyen scoops her up into his arms and cradles her to his chest. He rocks her, still whispering those promises of safety and protection, and nods for me to sit down on the loveseat.
Once I do, he gently lowers her into my arms and sits down next to me, wrapping me up in his.
I can’t cry. I won’t cry. I need to be strong for her. For my baby.
But I want to, so badly. I want to sob into her pigtailed hair and weep for her, for every child who now has to face the waking nightmares of never being safe in their own school again.
Somewhere in the distance, I hear Demyen whisper, “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
So I let it all out.
I don’t know how long we sit there, Willow curled up and tucked into my chest. Demyen holds me to his while my tears soak her hair. Well, with one arm he does—the other is wrapped around Willow, reminding her that she now has two parents who love her so very much.
After both of us have somewhat drifted into quiet exhaustion, Demyen kisses my head and whispers in my ear, “Go get dressed. I’ll watch her.”
“Huh?”
“We’re going out. Family day.”
My heart squeezes hearing him refer to us as “family.” But my brain and my nerves don’t care. “I wish we could, babe. But… she won’t handle the mall, or zoo, or?—”
“We’re not going there.” He gestures toward the door with his chin. “Just trust me. Go get dressed. And grab your swimsuits.”
Again, I’m so very confused. But I trust him.
That’s a miracle in its own right.
The whole ride to wherever the hell we’re going is filled with Willow’s panicked breathing. It only stops when hell freezes over—by which I mean, Demyen starts singing.
I’m gaping at him in utter shock, because not only is he singing, but he’s singingwell.Like, shockingly well.
It quiets Willow, too. Or at least, she stops hyperventilating in her booster seat.
He glances at me, then at her through the rearview mirror. And then the most brilliant, beautiful grin spreads across his chiseled face.
By the time we pull up to what appears to be a luxurious cabin on a private lake, Demyen has serenaded us through three love ballads, one of which was in Spanish.
He shuts up the moment we see the guards park behind us and that familiar, icy coolness slides back over his face.
I grin. He doesn’t have to worry. His secret is safe with me.
“Alright, kiddo. Time for some fun.” He jumps out of his side of the car and immediately goes for her door. Like I’m not even here, ready and eager to cradle my precious baby and whisper encouragement to her as we slowly navigate through this strange new place.
