4. Chapter 4
Chapter 4
Mira
W hen Pari said she wanted pancakes, I was thrilled to make them for her in Beau's gorgeous, fully stocked, chef's-dream kitchen—something I hadn't been able to do in so long. The past year had been incredibly hard. Asha had grown sicker, and the six months since her death were a blur. I'd tried working at a restaurant, but between caring for Asha and Pari, I'd eventually had to quit.
After Asha passed, things only got worse. My parents had us kicked out of Asha's home, freezing her assets and using a judge's injunction to invalidate her will. I was terrified of how I'd provide for Pari, frantically researching daycare options when everything spiraled out of control.
And now, here I was, standing in one of the most beautiful homes I'd ever seen—more opulent than even the house I grew up in. But none of that mattered. What mattered was the simple joy of making pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream for my baby girl.
" Miramashi , Bodaddy is nice," Pari mumbled as she drew in her sketchbook. It was her favorite thing to do these days, and I got at least ten to fifteen minutes of reprieve when she got into it with her colored pencils.
I had managed to settle her at the kitchen island while I cooked. She sat on a high-back barstool with armrests, which meant she wouldn't slide away.
"Yes, he is." I mixed the batter with a whisk.
"Is this our new home now?" Pari looked up at me from her drawing.
It was definitely going to be her new home, but probably not mine. I'd have to get on with my life and co-parent from a distance, whatever that meant. I wish I could stay here so I could care for Pari as I had been, but she wasn't my child—she had my heart, but I didn't have any legal rights. It was so unfair! But my hand was being forced, and I knew that between my parents and Beau, the choice was crystal clear.
"Little girls live with their daddies, so you'll live here with yours."
She nodded thoughtfully and then dropped her pencil. She picked up her sippy cup with both hands and drank her milk. She set her cup down and asked, "Will Mama come stay with us?"
I didn't want her to forget Asha, so I showed her pictures, and we talked about her. She didn't remember her mother, per se, but I'd made sure she had memories of her all the same—ones she could look back on later in life, even if they came from my perspective and not her own.
"Mama is a star in the sky, remember?" I let the batter rest and began to slice strawberries. "She'll always be there, watching over you."
I gave her a strawberry, and she took a bite, juice leaking out of her mouth. I reached out across the island and wiped her face with a paper towel.
"Yummy," she exclaimed and ate more of the berry.
She was giggling about the juice running down her chin when my heart stuttered as Beau came into the kitchen in a pair of workout shorts and a wet T-shirt that molded to his upper body. He had a towel in hand, but it did little to make him any less sexy—in that sweaty, rugged way men in movies always seemed to pull off. He'd obviously just finished working out.
"Good morning." Beau came up and dropped a kiss on Pari's cheek like he'd been doing it every day since forever. "How did you sleep, Angel?"
"Sleep all night," Pari announced and then ran a finger over Beau's cheek. "Wet."
Beau chuckled. "Yeah, I'm sweaty." He turned to me. "How did you sleep, darlin'?"
Sleep? I was wide awake. My body was saying hello very loudly in my head.
"Good. I…I hope it's okay that I'm making pancakes." I assumed it was, and if it wasn't, Beau could go fuck himself. Pari was hungry, and the fridge was overflowing with goodies.
"This is your home…at least for the near future, you don't have to ask to use anything," Beau told me. He slung the useless towel around his neck, and for a fleeting moment, I wished I could be one of those bold movie heroines—the kind who'd grab the towel, pull him close, and kiss him like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Kiss Beau Bodine? He was Asha's ex-boyfriend. Pari's father. This whole line of thought was dis-gus-ting .
Not!
"Thanks," I told him sincerely. "Would you like some pancakes? I'm serving them with strawberries and whipped cream."
"Sounds delicious," he said, but he was looking at me in a way that made me wonder if he was talking about the pancakes or me.
Get your mind out of the gutter, Mira. This one's off-limits!
" Miramashi , more milk." Pari held up her empty sippy cup.
"What does that mean? Miramashi ?" Beau wanted to know.
" Mashi is Bengali for aunt, but I asked her to call me Mira, and Asha said Mashi , so I ended up becoming Miramashi ," I explained as I refilled Pari's cup and handed it back to her.
"I like that. You're Mira Auntie, and I'm Beau Daddy." He looked at his daughter indulgently, making my heart flutter. "And what does my Shona mean?"
I often called Pari Shona , which was a common Bengali nickname.
" Shona means gold in Bengali," I told him.
He laughed softly. "She is, isn't she? Pure gold."
"Yeah, she is." Emotion swarmed me at his words. "Would you like some coffee?" I asked, raising my cup. He had an excellent espresso machine that ground fresh coffee beans to make what was one of the best cups of coffee I'd had in a long time.
"Black, no sugar, but give it a minute. I'll take a quick shower."
I licked my lips as my throat went dry. The idea of Beau taking those clothes off was…well, decadent spank-bank material.
For a girl who had a limited sexual history, I was certainly acting like a bitch in heat, I thought, admonishing myself. I immediately felt guilty for my desire and looked away from Beau's firm ass as he walked away. Good girls didn't go around lusting after their niece's father.
Unlike Asha, who'd embraced her sexuality, I'd had trouble letting it loose. But then Asha had had more therapy than me—mine had been sparse, and, in all honesty, I didn't think it did me much good, mostly because I hadn't been ready. Maybe now, once Pari was settled, I could get back to working at a restaurant, even if I couldn't go back to culinary school. I could save up to see a therapist and get my head straightened out.
Pari soon got restless, so I set her down in the living room attached to the kitchen. Beau also had a formal living room, where we'd been the day before.
I turned the television on so she could watch some cartoons while I got the pancakes ready. I was militant about how much screen time Pari got—I wanted her to play and do other things besides being a slave to technology. But sometimes, The Disney Channel was the best babysitter.
I had just finished plating the pancakes when Beau came back, smelling like a forest…sexy as hell. He was in a pair of casual linen trousers and a white T-shirt. He looked like he'd stepped out of the loungewear edition of GQ magazine.
"Wow. Fancy!" he remarked when he saw how I had plated the pancakes, strawberries, and whipped cream.
"Well, you can take the chef out of the restaurant, but you can't take the restaurant out of the chef." I winced at that. I wasn't a chef; I was a cook. I hadn't worked at a restaurant; I had worked in a diner. Still, a girl could dream.
Beau grinned, and before I could summon Pari, he did so himself. I had to learn to let him spend time with her and raise her, but it was hard, so very hard, to see my role diminishing. It was the way it should be, but I wished so much that I would not lose my baby.
Pari chatted the entire time we ate breakfast. Beau was patient, and I marveled at how well he was handling this whole parenting thing. After Pari was done, she went back to the living room to play.
"I'm going to work from home today," Beau informed me. "I wanted to ask you, do you have everything you need? Do you need to go shopping?"
With what money?
"I'm good." My underwear might be three years old, but the elastic still holds. Go, Victoria's Secret ten for thirty-dollars sale.
"Pari need anything?"
I shook my head. I'd made sure Pari had everything she needed, maybe not the most luxurious brands, but I was happy to splurge when it came to her.
"What is your plan for the day?"
I knew he was being curious, but it felt like an interrogation.
"After breakfast, Pari and I usually go out for a walk or to the park to play. I try to tire her out so she'll nap after lunch."
"There's a swimming pool if she likes to swim." Beau leaned back in his chair. He watched me intently, and it made me uncomfortable.
And horny!
I was equal parts fascinated and horrified that Beau was evoking such feelings inside me. I'd been waiting to be attracted to a man, and the time had come, and it was a wholly inappropriate male specimen my pheromones were going gaga over.
"She loves to swim." I'd taken her to the gym where Asha had a membership for baby swim classes. "But I don't have any floaties with me."
I'd left much behind at Asha's house, taking only what I could quickly gather—just the essentials for Pari and me.
"I'll make sure you have them." Beau held up his coffee cup. "Can you make me another, darlin'?"
His request evoked such a feeling of domesticity that I decided not to question his arrogance in assuming I was there to serve him.
"What do you do, Beau?" I turned on the coffee machine. "I mean…for work."
"I run a tech company."
I made a sound of assent and folded my arms as the coffee machine gurgled.
"You didn't know?" he inquired.
I shook my head.
"How did you know where I lived?" he asked.
Again, with the curiosity that felt like an interrogation
"I got your details from Asha's phone," I told him. "I wanted to call you…but I wasn't sure what you'd say, and as I told you yesterday, I was desperate, so I decided to show up and hope that you'd be home on a Sunday."
I brought his coffee to him.
"Thanks, darlin'. I'm glad you came here…actually, I'm grateful you did. If not, I wouldn't have met her." He looked at Pari with such longing that it broke my heart a little. Asha had been unfair to Beau. I didn't understand her reasons, and now we'd never know—but she'd been wrong to keep Pari away from her father, one who wanted her.
Beau was a decent man; that was something Asha and I had agreed upon. He was also a bit of a manwhore, but when he was with Asha, he treated her decently. And me as well. Except for the time when I had, to my chagrin, caught Asha and him having sex on the kitchen counter (yeah, I had to clean that with Lysol several times before I could cook), Beau had done nothing for me to be suspicious about. Though, if he'd been shady in any way, I'd have simply run with Pari. I'd just go to Mexico with her, and we'd live there. I'd be a criminal, but the hell with it. There was no world in which I'd let my parents, and especially my father, get anywhere near Pari. Mexico had been my Plan B. I hadn't needed it. Beau's kindness came through, and thanks to how fucked up my family was, my bullshit detector was honed. I could identify a creep from miles away, blindfolded.
"Beau, I'm really sorry that Asha did what she did." I put my hand on his to comfort him.
He turned his hand, so instead of my palm on the back of his hand, we were palm to palm. He interlaced his fingers with mine, and my heart thundered. The electricity between us was palpable. Did he feel it, too? Or was it just a me thing?
"Darlin', a doctor will be here today to take a DNA sample from Pari. Also, I want her to speak with a child psychologist."
I tried to snatch my hand away at that, but he wouldn't let me.
"It's not because I think there's something wrong; I just need to learn how to care for her. I need the help."
"I raised her without needing a psychologist," I snapped. "You can, too."
I knew I was getting defensive. What if they found out the truth—that I was a shitty parent? Because deep down, I suspected I was.
"Please, Mira. This is in no way any reflection on how you take care of Pari."
He now massaged my hand with his, evoking little tremors inside me. I was behaving like an ingenue ready to be seduced by the first rake who came along. This wasn't a fucking Bridgerton novel.
"Who is this psychologist? How do you know them? When and where will this meeting take place?"
"Dr. Fallon Ashford has a well-respected practice downtown. She's a friend of mine, and I'm meeting with her later today to discuss the best way and time for her to spend some time with Pari."
I took a deep breath. "I'll be there. I won't let Pari be alone with—"
" Miramashi , need to go potty." Pari came running to me.
I disengaged from Beau and grabbed Pari's hand to take her to the bathroom connected to our bedroom, where I'd already secured her potty chair.
While I waited for Pari to do her business, which was always an event, I considered what Beau had said. The DNA test made sense. I wasn't so sure about the psychologist. I had a feeling he wanted to assess how I was as a parent. I hated that, but he had every right to make sure I wasn't doing any damage to Pari.
"Eeny, meeny, miny, moe…." Pari sang nursery rhymes, and I joined her as I centered my thoughts. Nothing like sitting in a bathroom, waiting for Pari to poop, to make the epiphanies happen!