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“Would you rather I’d done both?” he asked, arching his brow. “Where’s Olivia?”
“Watching Brave for the second time today,” El-Mudad said, motioning for us to continue into the den. “I can’t speak for Sophie, but I know my reaction to your new jewelry is simply shock. I’ve seen you take an hour to pick out which shoes you’re going to wear, but you altered your body on a whim?”
That was also a good point. “I agree. And it does seem a little...midlife crisis-y of you.”
“So that’s the issue. I’m a sad old man trying to be young?” Neil demanded. “Perhaps the two of you should look into elder care for me, so I can’t injure myself further with my foolishness.”
“Stop,” El-Mudad told him. “You know that isn’t what we’re saying. You would have a similar reaction if either of us did something so out of character.”
“Like, if I ran out and got a tattoo of a dragon over my whole back, you’d probably have something to say about that,” I added.
“You would never do that. You hate tattoos,” Neil argued.
I shook my head. “I do not hate tattoos. I just don’t want them on me. I don’t care for accessories I wouldn’t be able to change.”
“And I’m not opposed to piercings,” El-Mudad reassured him. “I don’t think it looks bad. I just question why you were driven to do it.”
Olivia was so captivated by the action on the television, she didn’t notice us come into the den at first. When she did, she jumped to her feet and ran to us. “I swimmed! I swimmed all by myself!”
“You swam,” El-Mudad corrected her. “But yes, she doggy-paddled from one end of the pool to the other. I was very impressed.”
And I was very relieved. I’d done a lot of swimming as a child. There were way too many lakes in the Upper Peninsula to let a kid run around not knowing how to swim. The earlier they learned, the better, in my opinion.
Not that I had very many parenting opinions.
Maybe that was part of my problem with the idea of teaching Olivia to ride. I’d been trying to base most of our decisions for her care off of what I imagined Emma and Michael would want. Neil had a point; they weren’t here. The job was up to us now, and we had to find solutions that would work with the child Emma and Michael had, sadly, never gotten a chance to know. Perhaps they wouldn’t have approved of all of our decisions, but they didn’t know the circumstances in which we were making them.
“Have you taught her how to tread water?” I asked El-Mudad. “Float on her back?”
“We’re trying,” he said. “And she’s learning very well.”
“I’m a good swimmer,” Olivia stated confidently.
“You certainly are,” Neil praised her. “But even the very best swimmers must have a grown-up with them in the pool.”
That was a worry we definitely had; Olivia was so self-assured and confident that sometimes she took it upon herself to act like she was thirty, not three.
“Even Sophie and Afi and El-Mudad don’t go swimming without someone there to help us,” I lied. Neil did laps three times a week before El-Mudad or I ever got out of bed. But Olivia didn’t know that, and it was for her own good.
“I know,” she said happily, then went back to her movie and brushing her baby Merida doll’s hair with a detangling comb forced to work against its intended purpose. The poor doll had seen better days.
I went to the armchair where I’d left my Kindle and sat down. “I think I’m going to spend the afternoon reading.”
“A book?” Neil asked, as though he was shocked.
“Yes, a book.” He acted like I was illiterate or something. “I’m picking up all sorts of interests, now that I’m not working.”
I didn’t know which book I planned to read, but I figured I should find something if I were going to work on one of my own.
“I have to say, I do find the Hamptons terribly dull,” El-Mudad admitted. “I need to find a hobby, myself. I’m not used to being in one location for long.”
“Yes, life is infinitely more interesting when hopping about from one exciting city to the next. But it’s also infinitely more tiring.” Neil grimaced. “Or does that make me seem even more ancient?”
“You’re not ancient, and no one said you were,” El-Mudad scolded him. “Are you going to think I’m ancient when I’m in my fifties?”
“It depends on how nice you are to me between then and now.” Neil picked up the sleek black phone on the end table. “I’m going to ask Julia for a bit of lunch. Does anyone want something?”
“A latte.” Though my brunch intoxication had decreased greatly on the flight back, I could still use a little sobering up. “And water and four Motrin.”
