Chapter 37
37
28 years old - Lily
“ I ’ve asked everyone on the first floor,” Bryce tells me from the bottom of the staircase.
“And I did the second floor already.”
We both come to a stop once we are on the same level, our arms resting on our hips. Bryce bites his lip, exposing his upper teeth. He types on his phone and I see from the corner of my eye that he is dialing Nick’s number.
“Hey, Lily and I are going to look for Birdie outside…She’s not here…No, she’s not here…Can you stay put? You know, in case she comes back? It’s easier this way. We’ll check out the places she likes to go to…Thanks, man, appreciate it.”
He doesn’t need to tell me what the conversation was about or what we need to do next. The wheels in my brain start working to compile a mental list.
“You go to her school and the playground where she likes to bike to. I’ll call Mariana and walk in that direction. She might be there.”
How could I be so stupid? I let my feelings for Nick cloud my judgment. Of course, it was a bad idea to let him meet Birdie. Not like this. Not before she knows the truth, or at the very least, a version of the truth that is acceptable for me to tell a nine-year-old.
Ever since the nurse at the pediatrician's office asked her whether Bryce was her father or not, she has been sneaking in questions about Logan. I couldn’t satisfy her with my default answers anymore, not like when she was a toddler. And those coupons that Nick made me when we were kids…
Fuck, why did I keep my memory box so accessible to her? I knew better than that. Little girls like to raid their mother’s things. My mother used to scream at me for going through her drawers.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial Mariana’s number a few times. All efforts go to her mailbox. Must be bedtime already. My hands type her a message asking whether Birdie is at her place or not as my feet walk in the direction of her neighborhood. After I’m done, I put my phone away and let my eyes scour for an angry little girl with long, dark brown hair.
My voice is shaky when I stop to ask people whether they have seen her or not. Everyone that I encounter only offers me apologies and head shakes. They probably think I’m losing my mind, going outside with only a thin cardigan, talking to everyone who will listen, asking them about a kid that no one has seen.
My phone dings in my pocket. Thinking it’s Mariana, I pull it out quickly so that I can give her an explanation. She must have been shocked to have read my vague message.
Nick
She’s here. She’s ok. Texted Bryce as well.
Oh, thank God. Thank God. Thank God.
I sprint back home and rush toward my apartment when I see the door slightly open and hear muffled conversations from inside. Deep in their discussion, they must not have heard my footsteps. The handle is already in my hand, but I hold myself from pushing the door open when I hear what they’re talking about. Birdie and Nick are both sitting on the couch. Nick nods to whatever she just said, his back hunched and his hands resting on his knees. I lean in closer so I can listen better to what they’re saying.
“I understand that, Birdie,” Nick answers her. She just stares up at him with so much sadness. “And I wish I could tell you more, but I think it would be best if you talk to your mom about that.”
“When you go back, if you ever see him, can you please ask him why he doesn’t think I’m important? Some of my friends’ parents are not together, but they always get to see their moms and dads, even the moms and dads that live in other cities.”
I’m about to step inside and comfort her when a hand holds my shoulder. Bryce is standing behind me. “Let her finish,” he whispers to me. “She has never talked about this with us. And you might want to calm yourself down before you face her.” I nod. He has a point.
“You know,” Nick says in a gentle tone I’ve never heard him use before. “Although I can’t tell you much about your dad. I can tell you this. Your mom and your uncle love you very, very much. To them, you are the most important person in the world. I’ve known them for a long time. I know how they work.” He gives her a wink. “Oh, and I’ve met Paul. He couldn’t stop talking about how awesome you are. I bet he thinks you’re important as well. Sometimes blood is not really thicker than water, Birdie.”
“What does that mean?” she asks him curiously.
“It means that sometimes the people most important to you are your friends instead of your family. And sometimes that’s okay.”
Birdie looks at Nick, studying his face and letting his words sink in. “Like you and Mom, you mean?” She stares down at her feet. “I’m sorry I read your coupons. I know I’m not supposed to.” Nick opens his mouth to answer, but Birdie continues speaking. “You wrote it. That she was the most important person to you.”
Nick lets out a lazy smile. “Yeah, something like that.”
“I wish my dad thinks I’m as important as my mom is to you.”
“Birdie, do you want to know a secret?” She nods. “Since your mom is still one of the most important people in my life, that makes you important to me, too.”
“Really?” Her face lights up. “Can we be best friends, too? Like you and her?”
Nick lifts his finger to his chin and pretends to think. “Hmmm, it depends. Your mom used to invite me to her ballet recitals and share her snacks with me when she was your age. Your uncle Bryce told me you also do ballet. Are you going to invite me to your recitals and give me your snacks?”
“I have another one in March. You should already be here by then! If I promise to invite you and give you my snacks, will you promise that you’ll be my best friend?”
I feel tears falling on my cheeks when he gives her his pinky finger, holding it out in front of Birdie’s face. “Pinky promise,” he says to her.