27. Vaughn
TWENTY-SEVEN
VAUGHN
My fitting with Koval went well. The tux was coming along, and he bullied me into also ordering an overcoat for the big night.
I asked what the point of that was when I’d take it off within three minutes of arriving, and he and Alba squawked at me until I backed down.
Then I asked him if he sold women’s clothes, and his judgmental, all-seeing eyes had slid to Alba.
She’d given me a long look and shook her head.
Koval had huffed and gone back to pinning the partially completed sleeve to my shoulder.
The hunt for the dress continued. I still didn’t quite understand what she needed. It was a dress. How hard could it be?
Instead of parting ways when we left the shop, I tugged on Alba’s hand. “There’s someone I want you to meet,” I told her, and watched the smile bloom over her face.
That’s how we ended up in my living room, surrounded by a mass of dolls and children’s toys.
Billie disappeared into the kitchen to prep some food for the week for Charlotte, which left Alba, me, and my daughter in the living room, free to play.
I’d pulled her out of kindergarten for the day, hoping we could have some fun.
I thought this would be easier than dinner with my ex-wife.
I was wrong.
Charlotte ignored Alba for a full fifteen minutes. She mumbled a hello, then played with her dolls in the living room with a kind of intense focus that could only be deliberate. I didn’t hold it against her, and I was happy to see that Alba didn’t, either.
“Charlotte, do you want to share one of your dolls with Alba?” I prodded.
Charlotte glanced at me, then at Alba. “No,” she said.
Alba gave me a look, her eyes glimmering with humor.
“That’s okay,” she said. “I’ll just sort out all the doll clothes and see what we’ve got here.
” She grabbed the plastic container filled to the brim with tiny clothing, sat cross-legged on the floor, and began laying all the pieces out, organizing them by style and color.
A tiny pink skirt was set beside a tiny purple skirt.
A long sparkly dress was laid out below the skirts, beside what looked like a wedding gown and another evening gown.
Charlotte’s eyes slid to the array of clothing, then back to the dolls in her hands. She grabbed a brush and began detangling the doll’s hair—then glanced at Alba’s work again.
Alba said nothing; she simply kept organizing the clothes and occasionally making comments about how much she liked a piece. “I wish I had a dress like this,” she said, smoothing her hands over dark red sequins. “So pretty.”
“The purple one is better,” Charlotte said, jumping up like she couldn’t resist anymore. She dug through the container of clothes and brought out a handful of sparkly purple fabric with so many ruffles that I could hardly tell it was a dress. She presented it to Alba, whose eyes went wide.
“Fabulous!” Alba said, and Charlotte beamed. “Should we put it on your doll? Are they going to a ball?”
“A fancy ball like the one my daddy is going to. Are you going to go too?”
Alba glanced at me, then accepted the spare doll Charlotte handed her. “Yes,” she replied.
“What are you going to wear? You should wear purple.”
“I haven’t found a dress yet,” Alba admitted. “But that’s a good idea.”
I slid off my chair and down to the ground with them, and Charlotte thrust a third doll at me, followed by an outfit she and Alba chose together.
Then I struggled to get the dress on the doll and fumbled with the tiny snap closure until Alba laughed and took pity on me, reaching over to help me dress my doll. Charlotte grinned, and I laughed.
Later, we went out for dinner. Charlotte chatted with Alba the whole time, and I got used to the strange tightness in my chest at watching them together.
It felt like a future I wasn’t allowed to hope for.
I’d lost my chance at a solid family when Tiffany and I broke up—and now it felt like I might get a second chance.
Distantly, lurking at the back of my mind, images began to solidify: a diamond ring glinting on Alba’s finger.
A new baby. Charlotte’s wide eyes as she held the infant for the first time, her first step in becoming the overprotective big sister.
Alba, tired and deliriously happy, looking at me with shining eyes…
I blinked the images away. It seemed like too much to hope for when I’d already messed up my first chance at a happy family.
That evening, when Alba had gone home and Charlotte had had her bath and was snuggled in bed, I lay next to her and angled my head so it touched hers.
“What did you think of Alba?”
“Is she your girl friend?”
I turned to see Charlotte grinning at me, a little giggle slipping out. Frowning, I asked, “Where’d you learn about girlfriends?”
My daughter laughed, snorting and giggling and looking like the little girl she was—and wouldn’t be for much longer. I wrapped her in my arms and tickled her until she squealed. Then I said, “Alba’s my girlfriend.”
“You said she was your friend.”
“She’s my friend and my girlfriend.”
Charlotte frowned at me; she hadn’t considered that possibility.
“One more book, and then bed.”
Charlotte nodded, then got on her knees and reached for the shelf of bedtime books near her bed. She grabbed the thickest, longest book and handed it to me with a smile. I couldn’t be too mad, though, because she blotted herself against me and snuggled in the way that never failed to melt my heart.
She was asleep by the second-to-last page. I lay there for a while, watching her sleep, then slid off her bed and tiptoed out of the room. With one last glance over my shoulder toward my daughter, I released a long breath and closed her door.
Leaning against the wall, I thought of all the decisions that had led to today. Returning to Carmine’s even when I knew I shouldn’t. Exchanging letters with my mystery cleaning lady. Staying late to work, and discovering she was Alba. Hiring her. Sleeping with her. Falling for her.
It all happened naturally, and it had been just as natural to see Alba and Charlotte together. Alba had a core of integrity that Charlotte could sense; I was sure of it. She’d come from a vapid, rich, horrible family, but she’d grown from it and was now the amazing woman I knew.
I never wanted to let her go. I wanted a thousand days like today. I’d let my company burn to the ground, just for the kind of quiet happiness that I’d experienced by watching Alba and my daughter playing and laughing and chatting.
Except…would I? Or would I spend long evenings in the office, fighting for a company that no longer seemed to hold my interest?
I shook my head. Of course I would. I was a businessman, an entrepreneur. I didn’t just abandon projects when they got difficult. I didn’t flit from idea to idea, dragging my family down every step of the way.
Maybe I could have it all. The business. The partner. The family. Maybe things weren’t destined to crumble the way I’d grown up thinking they would.