12. A Pink World
12
A PINK WORLD
WYATT
F ebruary in Neandia was often a rainy slog, but sometimes it threw you a bone. While it was still chilly, the sun was bright on a lazy Saturday. I brought Theo downtown to grab coffee and play in the park. We had a ten AM appointment, but I figured it would be good to stretch his legs. Either way, I’d be miserable if I didn’t get a coffee. My mother was only capable of producing “church lady” coffee—a weak, terrible pot that left me depressed.
We walked to my favourite shop, a glare making it hard to see. Theo took off like a shot, making me so nervous. I raced after, panic-stricken. He ran just out of sight, around a corner.
“Doggy! Chien! Doggy!” Theo shouted
“Theo, come back here and slow down!”
“He’s fine!” A voice called in English.
I finally passed the glare around the corner and was face-to-face with a woman in head-to-toe pink. It was Odie. Theo focused entirely on the dog in the bike basket. He must have seen them ride by.
“Grieg, right?” I asked.
“He loves children, don’t worry about it.”
“Papa, it’s a doggy!”
“I know, buddy. His name is Grieg. And this is Odie,” I said.
I was glad she caught him. My heart slowed, happy he hadn’t bolted into traffic. However, I stared awkwardly at the woman who still hadn’t emailed. I tried not to make it weird, but I was hurt. She never followed through. If she had time for a Saturday morning ride, didn’t she have time to email?
“You’ve got a runner,” Odie said. “My niece is the same way. She’s fast, like a racehorse. She will drop your hand and take off.”
“We’re… working on it,” I said, annoyed.
“Kids… they’re predictably unpredictable,” Odie said, adoringly.
Was she unaware I was frustrated with her? Or was she just really good at ignoring tension?
“He’s your son?”
“Yes,” I answered curtly.
“He’s a doll. Honestly. Absolutely adorable.”
Odette removed her helmet, unveiling her soft blonde hair. She smiled and focused on Theo. Her eyes shone bright and kind. Theo beamed back at her, patting Grieg too intensely.
“That might be a bit too much love, friend,” Odette said in sweet French. “What is your name?”
“Theo! I’m four!”
“Oh, such a good age,” Odette tucked a piece of stray hair behind her ear and turned to me.
I didn’t know if it was the sheer kindness in her gaze or her broad, unrelenting smile, but I couldn’t stay mad.
“I didn’t know you had a kid, Wyatt.”
“Sorry, I didn’t… mention him,” I said.
“It’s okay. You should have gloated!”
I was relieved to see she liked kids. Business associates rarely wanted to hear about my kid. My team knew he was the centre of my universe—like it or not. And sometimes, when I brought it up, I got dreaded sympathy. Oh, look at the poor widower and his young son! Let’s pity him!
“He’s great, yeah.” I needed to leave.
She was kind, but the longer I didn’t talk about the email, the more frustrated I became. Why didn’t it bother her that she didn’t keep to this commitment? I supposed someone her age was too flighty to remember.
“So, anything major happen at the ribbon cutting?” Odette asked.
“I think Rick probably filled you in.”
“Oh.” Brows furrowed in confusion, she asked, “I don’t imagine you have time to talk?—”
Annoyed, I cut her off, “We were going to play in the park. I shouldn’t bother you. I know you’re busy.”
She picked up on my tone. It was too severe.
“Wyatt, I’m not too busy. And… I am sorry if I offended you. I felt stupid about emailing you. I didn’t know what to say and thought no matter what I said, it would sound silly since you know so much more.”
“Odie! Look!” Theo flipped Grieg’s ears up on top of his head and laughed.
I let out a breath I hadn’t realised I was carrying. She hadn’t ducked me on purpose. She’d not known what to say any more than I knew what to lead with now. I’d hurt her feelings.
Fighting a sad expression, Odette smiled at Theo. “He’s got the best ears, doesn’t he?”
“Yes! I luff him!”
“Uh… I do have time to talk if you do. I planned to get coffee and watch him play in the park… if that works?”
“Sure. Sounds good!” Odette beamed, tossing her helmet in the bike bucket.
“Do we need to do something with the dog?” I asked.
She nodded. “Grieg knows to wait for us.”
We entered the coffee shop and got in line. Thankfully, it was early, and the line was short.
“I like your clothes,” Theo stared at Odette.
She giggled. “Oh, thank you. I do like the colour pink, I suppose. Pink and red are my favourite colours. What about you, darling?”
“I like violet,” Theo said.
“That’s a wonderful colour.”
I tussled his hair. “It is a good colour.”
“It was Mama’s favourite colour,” Theo proclaimed.
His mother’s life was a colour-coded dream of every shade of purple you could imagine. She knitted him a violet blanket before he was born. We weren’t sure if he was a boy or a girl, and she doubted whether we should let him have it. For my life, I couldn’t imagine why he wouldn’t get a blanket just because it was purple. He slept with it to this day.
“She is dead. But she loved me lots,” Theo added.
I tried not to make a big deal out of talk about Isla—especially Theo’s proclamations. He was four. This was how he related to the world in big swaths of black and white. People never knew how to handle the dead mom or dead wife chat. People got all weird for fear of making me sad. Talking about Isla made me happy, not sad. I predicted Odette would gloss over it, but she didn’t.
“It sounds like she had great taste. It is a lovely colour on you, too,” Odette said.
“Latte for me, please. Large with a bonus shot,” I ordered in nervous French. “And a cafe au lait for the kid. Oh, two croissants, too.”
I turned to Odie. “What are you having?”
“Oh, you don’t?—”
“No, no, I insist,” I said.
“Cappuccino. Large, please,” Odie said. “And one of the cinnamon buns. Thanks.”
We paid and stepped away to wait. Theo talked Odette’s ear off about the dog and his trains, and she listened intently. Theo was always desperate to chat with women. I suspected he latched onto anyone he viewed as a maternal figure to fill a need. They called our order. Odette helped, instinctively taking Theo’s hand.
“I’d be glad to join,” Odette offered. “If that is… if I could help you get over there. I have a coffee carrier in my bike basket. I sometimes do coffee runs for my sister and I. I’ll walk with you.”
“That’s ingenious,” I laughed.
We loaded the bike.
“Can I ride in it?” Theo asked.
“If your Papa says you can,” Odie answered.
“Yes,” I sighed. “This is the only time you will go out without a helmet, and it’s only because I trust Odette, and she’s walking the bike. ”
“Yes. Never leave without a brain bucket, kiddo.”
We walked on. As we were about to cross the intersection where we’d met, I stepped in front of Odette and saw a car coming out of the corner of my eye. She stopped short, protecting Theo and Grieg from the intersection. The vehicle turned right before us, pretending we didn’t exist.
“Just like that,” Odette sighed. “How did you?—”
“Spidey senses, I guess,” I chuckled. “I’m hypervigilant. Some might even call it paranoid.”
“Protective,” Odette said. “Daddy powers.”
We crossed the street. I wanted to say something interesting but had no idea what to say to a princess—especially one I’d silently cursed for a couple of weeks for ghosting me.
“The bike helps. It’s smart to put him in the bucket, Odie.”
“I figured it might corral him a bit.”
“I appreciate it… as well as the adult company,” I agreed.
We arrived at the park and divided the food. As expected, Theo demanded Odie follow him around and observe everything. I watched the dog, bundled in a coat, sleep on the bike like this was his typical day. Theo came back occasionally for bites of food and his coffee. I struggled to accept children drinking coffee, but a cafe au lait was common for children here.
Eventually, Theo made a friend, giving Odie a reprieve.
She sat. “He’d get on with my nieces like anything. Look, I am sorry I never emailed. I meant to, but… I wasn’t sure what to say. And there is something I should say.”
“Oh, it’s okay. Life is busy.“
“I’m sorry. Just wanted to clear the air.”
“I appreciate it, but… you have nothing to apologise for. I asked a lot?—”
“You didn’t, Wyatt. I have no idea how to fix this, but I want to get involved. I will be the official patron of Vision 360. So, if we want to make a splash, I will gladly do whatever we need to.”
I smiled. “That sounds great. Wait, what do I call you? I should have asked. ”
“In public at a formal occasion, Princess Odette or Your Royal Highness. Here, Odie is just fine. I promise I’m not fussy.”
“Great to hear. Look, I don’t mean to overstep?—”
“You haven’t. You helped protect Grieg. You’re amazing. And you seem to show up and save my life regularly.”
I flushed red. “Well, when you make me sound like Superman?—”
“Isn’t hypervigilance a superpower?”
“If so, I’m Captain Paranoid.”
“What does that make your sidekick? Neurotic Girl?”
“Oh, you’re far from neurotic, Odette,” I laughed. “Give yourself time and children to come into that level of concern.”
“I have enough neuroses for both of us, trust me.”
“You’re in good company, then.”
Odette looked me in the eyes, face going from happy to serious but not severe.
She squeezed my hand and said, “Don’t stop fighting for people, Wyatt. This place is beautiful, but it needs improvement. You’ve shown me that twice in the past month. The world needs more people like you. Don’t ever apologise for wanting to make it better.”
How did she know I needed to hear that?
I stammered, looking for the words as I held her hand in mine. We’d done this at the hotel when fleeing the scene, but how she cradled my hand in hers felt different. How did such a small hand support mine like this?
“I… I won’t. But will I have your support as well, Odette?”
Odette brightened, looking at my hand in hers and pulled back. Her affection was genuine, but I suspected she had to behave well publicly. Holding my hand—even if it was just platonic—was overly familiar. Still, I’d enjoyed it. I shouldn’t have. It was an overstep.
Odette beamed. “Yes, of course.”
“Can we meet up to chat about the next steps?” I followed up.
“I’d love to,” Odie said. “Tell me what works. You’re the one with the kid. And I swear I am much more comfortable chatting in person. I didn’t mean to ghost you.”
“I get it,” I said. “Let’s meet up.”