10. Sabrina
CHAPTER 10
SAbrINA
The long, low sigh that escapes me as I sink into the warm, bubbly water would be embarrassing if I weren’t alone.
I didn’t think I liked baths, but I know now the issue wasn’t the event itself but the shitty tubs and cheap supplies I’d only ever had access to. The hotel bathroom came fully stocked with lavender-scented bath bubbles and salts, and after our five-mile run, I need the pampering, so I’m using it all to my full advantage while Noah takes Maddie out for breakfast.
We didn’t talk during the run, and we didn’t speak after.
Surprisingly, the silence wasn’t the least bit strained.
It’s as if he understood that, for me, running is a solitary activity. That I use the time to force the rest of the world to fade away. My worries. My hurts. All of it ceases to exist when I run.
Hands cupped, I scoop the bubbles up so they’re covering my chest, even though I’m completely alone.
Noah has practice again today, and his first match is tomorrow. We’ll cheer him on if that’s what Maddie wants. I’d be lying if I said I’m not eager to watch him play. I looked up footage of his matches online, and, holy hell, was I impressed with what I saw. Though these days, he’s clearly still in his head. Taking so much time off has to be just as difficult on an athlete’s mental game as it is on the physical aspect.
It wasn’t until after I watched the videos that I realized it was a mistake. Because now I can’t help but be even more attracted to him.
But he’s my boss, and I can’t go there, even if he is insanely hot.
My phone buzzes beside me, and when I sit up, the water sloshes, uncovering my breasts.
Lucy: Good night! Well, good morning to you. But good night for us!
I smile at her silly message and dry my hands on the towel hanging over my head.
Me: Sleep well. You have to get enough rest for my future niece or nephew.
Lucy: So you and Alyssa keep telling me. How’s it going down under?
Me: It’s going.
Lucy: That sounds bad.
Me: It’s fine, really. Just adjusting, that’s all.
Lucy: Don’t make me get on a plane.
Me: You’re ridiculous. I’m settling in. Maddie’s awesome.
Lucy: And Noah?
Me: What about him?
Lucy: How is he?
Me: He’s my boss. That’s all.
I consider telling her about the potential teaching position, but really, who knows what will come of it (probably nothing)? I don’t want to jinx it, so I keep it to myself.
Lucy: We’ll chat more later. I miss you!
Me: Miss you too.
I set my phone down, noticing that the water temperature has dipped a little more than I like. Not ready to get out, I use my toes to turn the hot water faucet on.
Ten minutes , I tell myself. Ten more minutes, and I’ll get out.
Fifteen minutes later, I finally towel off and change into a short dress with a flower print. It’s hot as hell here, so anything more than that, and I’ll be suffocating.
Noah and Maddie aren’t back yet, so I head down to the lobby in search of coffee and maybe a little breakfast.
Luckily, the continental style meal hasn’t been cleaned up. Plate in hand, I fill it with fruit and a waffle—it’s all about balance, right?
I add a splash of creamer to my coffee—okay, more than a splash—and drop a few packs of sugar onto the edge of my plate, then head back upstairs.
Clearly more hungry than I realize, I inhale my meal in record time. I’ve almost finished it all when the door beeps and Maddie barrels inside like a tornado.
She comes running right for me, screeching “Sabrina!”
The sound makes my ears ring, but it doesn’t stop me from opening my arms and bracing myself for her forceful hug.
That’s one thing I love about kids. How open and honest they are with their affection. Adults could learn a thing or two.
Noah is scheduled for training soon, so he calls Maddie over for a hug of his own. “I have to go. I’ll see you later, all right?”
With her back to me, I can’t see her face, but I have no doubt that she’s giving him big puppy dog eyes.
“You promise? For real this time?”
He bends down, his little finger outstretched. “I pinky promise.”
She wraps her tiny digit around his. “Deal.”
Noah straightens and dips his chin in a silent goodbye, and then he’s gone.
Maddie scurries back over to the table and settles in the chair next to mine. “Can we paint each other’s nails?”
“Sure.” I take a bite of kiwi. “Did you bring polish, or do we need to pick some up?”
“We need to pick some up,” she sighs dramatically. “We should probably get chocolate while we’re there too.”
“Oh.” I try not to smile. “Is that so?”
“Yeah. Snacks are important.”
Damn right they are. She won’t find me arguing with her about that.
While I finish up my breakfast, Maddie yammers on about anything and everything, mouth moving a mile a minute. I’m still chewing the last bite of waffle when she asks, “Can we go now?”
“I need to clean up first.”
“Fine.” Her shoulders sag, but she hops up and takes my plate over to the table by the door for housekeeping to pick up.
I wipe the table down with a wet washcloth, then sit to lace up my sneakers. “All right, girlie. Let’s find some nail polish.”
According to Google, there’s a drug store a couple of blocks away, so we opt to walk. Noah might chew me out over it later, but a three-minute Uber ride seems ridiculous.
“When do I have to start my school stuff?” Maddie asks as we wait to cross the street.
She already knows, but I respond patiently nevertheless.
“Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” she echoes, straightening her shoulders. “Can’t wait.”
“Do you like school?”
Mouth puckered, she tilts her head one way, then the other. “It’s okay. I don’t love it, but I don’t hate it either.”
“I always loved school. It was my safe place.”
She looks up at me with a questioning gaze. “Your safe place?”
“Mhm.” When the crosswalk light illuminates, I take her hand and lead her across the street.
“What does that mean?”
On the sidewalk once again, I peer down at her. Sometimes I forget how different my childhood was from most.
“My parents weren’t great. At school, I knew I was taken care of.”
It was my escape from the constant yelling, and while I was there, I knew I’d get at least one meal in my belly.
“That sucks.”
“Hey, I’m still here, aren’t I? And I’m doing great.” I give her shoulder a squeeze.
We enter the drugstore, the whirr of the air conditioning music to my ears, and between one blink and the next, Maddie takes off running down the nearest aisle.
“Maddie,” I scold, going after her. “You can’t just run away from me.”
She’s not listening, though, as she settles in front of a display of neon colors.
“This one would be pretty on you.” She holds out a highlighter shade of pink.
It’s a shade I’d never in a million years pick for myself, but I smile as I take it from her. “You’re right. Which one do you like for yourself?”
She twists her lips back and forth, studying the display, then peers back at the one in my hand. “That one would be pretty on me too. We can match.”
Warmth blooms in my chest. Her dad might drive me crazy, but this little girl is impossible not to care about.
“Perfect. Then we’ll match.” I pluck a pack of cuticle sticks from the shelf and a small bottle of nail polish remover. “Why don’t you get a basket?” I nod to the stack in my line of sight. “We need snacks too.”
Grinning, she darts toward the entrance. Half a second later, she sprints back to me.
When we’ve found the correct aisle, she picks up a bag of barbeque chips and drops them into the basket, then turns to me.
“What kind of chips do you like?”
“Salt and vinegar.”
She wrinkles her little nose. “Those are nasty.”
A chuckle escapes me. “I happen to love them.” I pick one off the shelf and add it to the basket that will soon be overflowing.
“My dad does too.”
Unwilling to let myself think about the man, I say, “What else should we get?”
Maddie puckers her lips. “TimTams.”
“Tim-what?”
“TimTams.” She scurries away. “Trust me, you’ll love them. I get them every time we’re in Australia.”
It occurs to me then that this little girl is far more well-traveled than the average adult.
She finds the chocolate biscuits and picks a couple of flavors. “All right, let’s go,” she announces, skipping to the checkout.
Halfway there, I remember the reason we made this stop in the first place and drag her a few aisles over for detangler.
On the walk back to the hotel, she chatters nonstop about her friends in Texas as well as friends she’s made while traveling with her dad.
It never occurred to me that she’d see other kids along the tour. It makes sense, though, that Noah wouldn’t be the only one to bring his family along.
Upstairs, she unpacks our spoils, then directs me to sit at the table.
I plop down and let her get to work. When she opens the cuticle pushers, a mild sense of dread washes over me, but she’s surprisingly slow and gentle.
While she works, her tongue sticks adorably out of the corner of her mouth.
She takes her time applying the polish, doing a damn great job.
When she’s finished, I hold my hands up and spread my fingers wide. “This is really good.”
She beams. “Thanks. My daddy lets me do his nails for practice.”
My heart stumbles. “He does?”
“Yeah.” She nods succinctly. “He always has.”
Interesting. Despite yesterday’s incident, it’s obvious he’s a great parent, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.
“After mine dry, it’s your turn.”
She shrugs, unbothered. “I’d rather watch a movie.”
“That’s cool with me.” I blow on my nails.
“I was thinking,” she says, “Tomorrow I want to get my schoolwork done early so I can watch my dad play.”
I straighten and regard her. “You want to see his game?”
“Yeah, I like watching him, and it’s his first game back. If he loses, I have to be there for moral support.”
A laugh bubbles out of me. Leave it to this little girl to say something nice but simultaneously roast her father.
“What are you going to say if he doesn’t win?”
Her nose scrunches. “I’ll give him a thumbs-up and tell him he did a good job and he’ll have to try harder next time.”
I snort, the sound that escapes me one I’m not sure I’ve ever made before. “Maddie!” I admonish, but it loses any actual reprimand when I can’t stop laughing.
“We should’ve gotten stickers at the store. If he loses, a sticker might make him feel better.”
Though my natural reaction is to laugh again, I choke it back and give her a genuine smile. “We can go back in the morning.”
She grins back, and my heart melts a little. I find that I like making her happy. Not because I want to spoil her, but because I get a thrill from banishing that sadness that lingers behind her eyes. If I can brighten her day with something as simple as a pack of stickers, why wouldn’t I?
She checks my nails with a gentle tap of her finger. “They’re dry. Movie time.”
We’ve eaten dinner and are halfway through another movie when Noah returns—on time like he promised.
After we’ve said good night and I’m lying in bed on my own, an image of her floats into my mind. The relief in her expression was so palpable. Even now, I can’t help but tear up at the memory.
That little girl deserves the world, and I can only hope that for however long I’m with her, I can be a light in her life.