10. Chapter 10
Chapter 10
Beau
" S he's unfit," Fallon told me.
I immediately looked toward the long hallway to make sure Mira had not overheard Fallon's pithy announcement.
"What bullshit." Granted, I hadn't seen Mira with my daughter for long, but what I had seen made one thing clear—Mira was Pari's person. When she was upset as she was now, she all but climbed into her aunt. Regardless of how difficult Pari was, I'd never seen Mira upset. Even Roxy had remarked on how level-headed Mira was and how she remained calm no matter what the situation was, which was remarkable, considering how young she was.
"I'm serious. She's imposing her own rules and ideas. The poor girl should have a pacifier if she wants it." Fallon leaned back on the couch, a glass of wine in hand. "It's a good thing you're her legal guardian. I think you should get Mira settled outside of your home. She can play auntie but not mommy."
I considered what Fallon said. I had brought her here to get her take on what was the right thing to do. Pari had been off today and, if she was getting a cold, it made sense she was cranky. I felt out of my element. The girl who'd been all happy and cheery for a week was now frowning and sulking—I didn't know how to handle it, but Mira did.
Roxy had told me that Mira was worried that Fallon was coming to assess Mira's parenting abilities, and there was some truth to that. Roxy had also thought it was a bad idea to use Fallon, which I'd dismissed. Sure, Fallon and I'd had an affair, but that was years ago, and we'd been friends for longer than we'd been fucking. I knew she cared about me as I did her. There was no world in which Fallon would want to hurt me—she'd only want what was best for me.
"Mira is the only mother Pari has had, Fallon. I can't separate them."
Fallon shrugged. "Children are resilient. Just start to spend more time with Pari and hire a nanny, someone who can take over. You need to start building distance between Pari and Mira so that when she leaves, your daughter will be fine."
But Mira won't be, I thought, not liking this line of conversation at all. I didn't want to hurt either Mira or Pari. They'd landed on my doorstep, and I felt responsible for both of them.
"Pari is Mira's only family and—"
"She needs to get the hell out of your house, Beau," Fallon snapped. "Is this because you still want to fuck her?"
I didn't like her tone of voice. I didn't like her accusation. But she wasn't wrong. I did want to fuck Mira. I was attracted to her as I hadn't been to a woman in a long time—it was more than sexual, which was novel.
"No woman is leading me around by my dick," I retorted smoothly. "You know that better than anyone."
Fallon sighed and cupped my cheek. Her hand was cool from the cold white wine glass. "Baby, you know I'm here for you. I have experience with this, and I'm telling you that the longer Mira is in Pari's life, the more problems you'll have. You need to establish yourself as a parent. You can't do that when surrogate mommy is walking around."
"Fallon, Mira is Pari's surrogate mother." I moved my face away from Fallon's touch. I usually didn't mind how touchy-feely she could be, but right now, while she was passing judgment on Mira, it felt wrong . I didn't examine why, but I had a feeling it had something to do with the chemistry between Mira and me. There was heat and…something else, something foreign—a sense of want that I'd never experienced before.
Fallon shook her head. "Listen to me, Beau. You need to contact her parents and find out what the hell is going on."
"My lawyers are already on it. We get the DNA results in by mid-next week, and once we have that, we can get the legalities in place." I glanced at the hallway that led to where Mira was sleeping, hopefully with my daughter.
"Look, I can see you like her."
"Like? I love my daughter," I remarked heatedly. "Fuckin' love her , Fallon."
She sighed and brushed her lush blonde hair from her face. "I meant Mira. I can see you love Pari, as you should. And she's adorable. I just…I don't know, Beau, her behavior was off, and I have a feeling it has to do with Mira. You don't know what she's been doing with her when they're alone."
"She skipped her nap, Fallon. Kids do that. In the week Pari's been here, this is the only time I've seen that kid be anything but happy."
"And you don't wonder that Mira had something to do with her unhappiness? You told her I was coming, didn't you? Did she put Pari up to behave like this?"
I gaped at Fallon, wondering if she'd lost her mind. "You know Pari is just two and a half, right? I doubt she can be manipulated."
"Do you think you know more about children and their psychology than me?" Fallon challenged.
I ran a hand through my hair. She had a point.
"So, what you're saying is that Mira is bad for Pari?"
"It's not that simple, Beau. If she was all Pari had, then okay—but she has you, and what happens tomorrow when you meet someone, and want to marry her?"
I laughed. I couldn't help it. "I ain't ever marryin' anyone, babe. You know that. It's not who I am."
"You're thirty-four years old, Beau; there's plenty of time for you to fall in love…trust me, I've seen it happen."
"I'm not going to kick Mira out of Pari's life because someday I may have a relationship with some woman I've not even met ." I got up, feeling restless, and stuck my hands in the pockets of my linen pants. "What did you think of Pari?"
"I need more time with her," Fallon stated. "Maybe I can do that after she wakes up from her nap. But I want to be alone with her, just you and me, no Mira."
Before I could respond, a loud noise erupted from the kitchen. I turned to find Roxy standing there, banging something loudly.
We were in the informal living area, which had become Pari's play space. The room was open-plan, connected to the kitchen and a large dining area that I preferred over the formal dining and living rooms.
"Roxy, darlin', you know Fallon here."
Roxy smiled tightly. "Yeah, we've met. How are you doin', Fallon?"
"I'm good, Roxy." Fallon's face broke into a wide smile. "When Beau said you'll be cooking dinner, I was excited. I've missed your cooking."
Roxy's eyes flickered, but she didn't bite. "It's been a long while since you ate here," she said, her voice cold enough to make me glance up. Something was brewing beneath the surface, but Roxy wasn't one to stir the pot unless there was a damn good reason. "But I didn't cook dinner tonight. That's all Mira."
I looked at Roxy, and then at Fallon, whose eyebrows lifted slightly. Her smile faltered for a split second before she recovered.
"Mira cooked?" I asked, realizing too late how dumb it sounded. What I really wanted to ask was, when the hell did that happen? I'd seen her with Pari most of the day, and she'd been running on fumes.
"What's on the menu?" Fallon asked brightly, her eyes gleaming with something that made me uneasy. She was already dissecting the situation, sizing it up. Fallon was always good at reading people, but in a way that made you feel exposed, like she was figuring out exactly where to poke and prod. When she did that to others, I didn't care, but now she was doing it to my people, and I did care.
Roxy glanced toward the hallway. "Why don't you ask her?"
I saw Mira, baby monitor in hand. Her shoulders were stiff, and despair was written in her expressive eyes, but she quickly straightened, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and stepping into the room. She looked tired, but there was a fire in her eyes.
Fuck! How much of my conversation with Fallon had she heard?
"I made a chilled cucumber and mint soup to start." Mira walked to the kitchen counter and set the baby monitor down. "For the main course, there's herb-crusted salmon with lemon-dill sauce, roasted fingerling potatoes, and sautéed asparagus with garlic and balsamic. And for dessert, a fresh berry tart with a vanilla bean mascarpone cream."
There was a pause as the words sunk in. It wasn't a complicated menu, but it was damn impressive. "When the hell did you cook?" I mused.
Mira shrugged. "Pari and I did the prep work before lunch. I'd hoped that would tire her but…."
Fallon's smile barely moved. "That sounds lovely, Mira. Do you usually cook with Pari?" Fallon asked, her tone polite but lacking any genuine warmth.
"Yes," Mira replied tightly. "Sometimes I let her cook as well. She gets splattered with butter and oil, but it's all in a day's work, you know."
Roxy snickered at that.
Fallon narrowed her eyes.
I took a deep breath, knowing I had to do damage control.
"Yes, Fallon, Pari and I always cook together, at least I try," Mira continued. "She bangs around a bowl with a whisk, sings songs, pretends she's cooking. It's fun."
"Pari tastes everything. I'm telling you, Mira, you cookin' with her, letting her feel the ingredients and touch the food as it cooks is why she eats everything." Roxy looked at me with a challenge in her eyes. "Most kids I know are picky as hell, but not our angel."
I didn't know about Mira overhearing my conversation with Fallon, but Roxy definitely had, and she was coming daggers out, guns blazing.
"When will Pari wake up?" Fallon stood up. "I'd like to spend some time with her."
"Not today." Mira didn't even look at Fallon or me as she opened the fridge. "She's not in a good mood, and she doesn't do well with strangers when she's not feeling great. Why don't you come over next week sometime?" She turned to face me, a large plastic bowl in hand. "What do you think, Beau?"
"I think that's a good idea. Do you think Pari will wake up for dinner?" I realized that I'd made a mistake bringing Fallon into our dynamic now, especially since we were still getting to know one another.
"Beau," Fallon bit out and smiled tightly at me. "Can we talk in private?"
I'd asked her to come over so, I couldn't kick her the hell out now. Also, she was a friend, and I respected her.
Then why is she pissing me off?
I knew why. Fallon had implied some not-so-nice things about Mira, and every protective instinct inside me had flared to life.
Mira's eyes flicked to me, and there was something in her expression that caused an unexpected tension to grip me.
She was nervous, yeah, but there was more than that. She was trying so hard—I realized how much pressure she was putting on herself—not just to impress me but to prove to Fallon and probably to herself that she belonged with Pari. That she could hold her own with the Fallons of the world.
The baby monitor buzzed to life, and I used that as an excuse to step away from the volatile situation I had caused.
"We can talk in just a bit, babe." I squeezed Fallon's hand and put her off. I knew where she'd take this, and now I regretted asking her to come over.
I went to Pari, looking forward to the weekend when we would set up a room for her. I'd spent some time online shopping with Mira and Roxy, and Mama was already starting to send more clothes than my daughter would ever wear before she grew out of them.
"Hey, baby girl," I whispered, marveling at the tiny child sitting up on the bed, rubbing her eyes.
"Bodaddy." She smiled, and it looked like the nap was exactly what she needed. But then she sniffled, and I realized Mira was right again—Pari was definitely coming down with a cold.
I picked her up in my arms. She had that amazing baby smell mixed with sandalwood, which I discovered was a powder that Mira used to keep Pari dry at night.
I got her out of her diaper, which she used to sleep in, and listened to her as she yapped about a real rabbit she saw in the garden. It looked like her stuffed rabbit, whom she'd named Ghoshu. Apparently, rabbit was kharghosh in Bengali, and Pari had simply shortened it.
"You hungry, baby girl?" I asked as we walked out of the room hand in hand.
" Starving ," she exaggerated as she patted her belly.
Fuck, but this kid made me happy, I thought as I laughed. I'd never imagined this kind of love existed—this instant kind where you were ready to give your life for someone. I never thought anyone would love me with the innocence and purity with which Pari did. She was all in, even though she hadn't known who I was a week ago.
"It must be hard balancing everything—taking care of Pari, cooking, managing the house. I don't know how you do it," I heard Fallon say as we came into the living room.
Fallon was using her saccharine-sweet voice, the one that dripped venom. I was now convinced that I'd made a mistake bringing Fallon into the picture. I'd hoped for a nuanced approach, but she'd taken a stand against Mira that I couldn't comprehend.
I saw Mira's fingers tighten around the dish towel in her hands. Her smile was strained. "My Shona , you're awake."
She kneeled, and Pari wiggled away from me and ran into Mira's arms. " Miramashi , I slept. I peed. I hungry."
I saw Mira kiss my daughter, and everything inside me softened. How could I send this woman away, this woman who'd raised my child through tough times? Why couldn't my mother, Fallon, even Trev, who was usually laid back, and Katya see how wonderful Mira was?
Fallon came up to me and slid an arm around my waist, leaning her head against my shoulder. I wanted to push her away when I saw hurt swim in Mira's eyes. Did she think Fallon and I were together? I'd have to disabuse her of that notion.
"Can we talk now?" Fallon asked.
I nodded. "Mira, Roxy, we're going to be in my office. Just let us know when dinner is ready."
"Ten minutes," Roxy shot back. "We'll start eating whether you're here or not."
I sighed. The battle lines were drawn. Roxy didn't like Fallon, who didn't like Mira. It was easy for me to decide whose feelings I'd soothe—that would be the two women who lived in my house along with the child they took care of.
Once we were in my office, Fallon continued the assault on Mira. "She has the best intentions, but she's so young, and she looks exhausted, Beau."
"You haven't spent any time with Pari. Maybe you can after dinner, and then tell me what you think," I suggested tightly.
She shook her head. "Are you thinking with your dick, Beau? Is that the problem here? I get it, Mira is a pretty thing, and you always like young pussy, so—"
"Fallon, stop," I didn't raise my voice, but she could hear the steel. Fallon was a friend, yes, but she didn't get to talk to me like this, ever . "What the hell is your problem with Mira?"
"Even with the best intentions, things can slip through the cracks. Especially when you're overwhelmed, and this is not some job; this is parenting. Do you know how many kids I see who got screwed up by their young mothers?" Fallon wasn't backing down, and it was starting to irritate the hell out of me.
The psychologist in Fallon was testing the waters, prodding for weaknesses. She was like that—careful with her words but sharp enough to make her point. I wasn't blind to it. She was circling both Mira and me this time, looking for the cracks.
Before I could formulate a reply, there was a knock on the door. Roxy opened without waiting for permission. "Dinner's ready." She shot me a look, and I wasn't sure if it was meant to be a warning or if she was just pissed at the whole situation.
"Let's eat," I said, eager to shift the mood.
As we moved to the dining table, I caught Mira's eye. She gave me a quick, tight smile, but it was shaded with vulnerability. She was trying so damn hard, and it was hitting me now how much she was on edge. How much this dinner wasn't just about the food. It was about proving herself. It was me forcing her into this situation, with Fallon as judge and jury.
We sat down, and the first course was served. Mira's cucumber and mint soup was light and refreshing—exactly what you'd want on a hot June evening in Savannah. Fallon took a spoonful, smiled politely, and made some comment about it being "lovely," but there was no real praise in her voice.
I dug in, though, and looked across the table at Mira. "This is great," I said, meaning it. I might not know half the effort that goes into cooking, but I knew when something tasted good, and this was damn good.
"Thank you." Mira's eyes flickered between Fallon and me, still gauging the room.
Pari was happily slurping away on the cold soup.
"I don't know any kids her age who eat like she does," Roxy praised. "Mira, you've done an amazing job with her. Can you believe it, Beau? Pari likes vegetables? Most kids won't eat a green bean, but Pari wants them roasted in the oven with garlic."
"Kids eat what they get used to," Fallon interjected. "Did you grow up eating Indian food, Mira?"
"Yes." Mira wiped Pari's hands as she dipped them inside the soup.
" Miramashi , pink fish."
"That's salmon," Mira explained cheerfully, ignoring Fallon. "I'll make you a plate, amar chhoto Pari ."
When it was just Mira, she seemed vulnerable, but when she was with Pari, Mama Bear took over.
"What was that?" I asked. " Ama …what?"
Mira laughed, and I felt it all the way inside me. There was something so joyous about her, it was infectious. "It's Bengali for my little Pari."
"I love that," Roxy exclaimed. " Amar …what?"
Mira helped Roxy learn the Bengali words as she plated herb-crusted salmon with pulao rice. It smelled divine.
"You should make more child-friendly food, Mira," Fallon suggested while Roxy cleared the soup bowls to set us up for the next course Pari was almost done with.
"What does that precisely mean?" Mira demanded. "Child friendly?"
Fallon shrugged. "Just that children don't have a sophisticated palate and prefer simpler foods."
" Some children," Mira corrected. "I grew up eating whatever the grown-ups ate, and I'm doing the same thing with Pari. If something is too spicy, I pare it down for her, but otherwise, she eats what I do. And I eat healthy food."
Roxy all but snarled when she added, "You can't say salmon with dill and rice with carrots and peas and coriander is not healthy. I haven't seen a child eat so well as Pari does."
I put a hand on Fallon's shoulder, deciding to let her talk to Pari despite my previous reluctance. "Let's finish dinner, and you can spend time with Pari, yeah?"
After that, Fallon, thankfully, shut up, and we got on with the food. The main course was restaurant quality—herb-crusted salmon with a bright, zesty lemon-dill sauce that melted in your mouth.
Pari ate her food like a champ—carrots, peas, and the fish, crispy skin and all.
I could see the effort Mira had put into every detail, from the way she plated the meal to the care in its presentation.
She was in her element here, and I was more attracted to her than I had been to any woman, ever .