5. Hayes
HAYES
“She goes to sleep that easily?” I wonder. When I hear Elodie patter back into the living room, where I’ve been perusing the wall of photos of Elodie and Lola, I unstuff my hands from my pockets and bring my gaze to her.
She smiles angelically. “Normally not but having a visitor over after a day of daycare can drain some energy.”
“All she did was stare at me,” I deadpan, and it causes her to hiccup a chuckle.
I did my best attempting to play with the bunnies with Lola, but she just kept hugging them and looking at me with curiosity.
At dinner, we were in a deadlock, and she kept filling her mouth with food with that cute little spoon, but her eyes never drifted away from me.
A multi-tasker, I guess. And when Elodie told her that it was time to go to bed, Lola gave me a little wave and continued her long appraisal of me as her mother towed her away.
I took a peek into Lola’s room once she had her pajamas on.
There were unicorns everywhere. Even if it was a giraffe, bear, or whale, they all had unicorn horns.
I waved good night to her when Elodie set her in the crib, then let them be.
She mentioned that Lola is moving to a bed; she was going to do it in the next few weeks.
I make a note of it in my head for my place because these little practical things keep trickling into my brain.
I've looked over the rest of the home. Everything here exudes love.
How the hell am I going to fit into this picture? I don’t know.
“Well, she announced her other bunny is called Berry. That's something. You’re new and interesting. Plus…” Elodie seems hesitant to say what she’s thinking.
“I don’t know. Kids are more intuitive than we think.
She’s aware that you are not just a friend stopping by.
Who exactly, not sure. But it’s just… different.
I haven’t seen her like this before, but she’s happy. ”
Our eyes meet, and we both understand how profound this is.
I’ve been going crazy for the last two hours.
I’m stuck on seeing Elodie, the way her smile still radiates with no tropical sun needed, or how she bellows out short laughs when she finds something amusing, and then there is the fact that every time we connect through glances, my pulse picks up.
She’s still beautiful, caring, and motherhood suits her.
I got lost until Lola’s little squeals would grab me and remind me of reality.
I’m not here to remember the way Elodie tastes or the softness of her lips. I’m here because we have a daughter.
The little girl who only knows how to do adorable things. It’s instant, a bond already forming. I feel it in my bones. Why else would Lola only be calm when I’m in the room? She watched me with interest, I think. I’m not the best reader of toddlers, yet.
Tilting my head in the direction of the kitchen, I suggest that we head there, and Elodie follows.
We ate at the counter that divides the living room making small talk, and she was quick to collect the plates.
But not to clean; she needs to occupy herself to avoid recognizing that the air is shifting around us.
I pick up Lola’s plate and have to half-smile to myself. Smooshed banana remains on the pink plastic plate. “She’s a good eater.”
“Yeah, but breakfast is her jam. We could make that a three-course meal, and she still wouldn’t want it to end.” She sets the items in the sink, and I follow her lead.
“We’ll have to do breakfast then,” I casually mention, but it just opened up a door to a whole other conversation, and I sense it.
Elodie turns around to lean against the edge of the sink. She crosses her arms and sighs. I mimic her movements, and we are next to one another as we both look forward.
She nudges my shoulder with her own. “How does it feel? Meeting her?”
Instantly, I smile. “A mix between over the moon and on the edge of a cliff. She’s special. I’d like to think she has some of my attributes.”
“I know. It’s been kind of hard to escape you when she has your resemblance.”
Suddenly, I feel slightly numb with another thought. “Did you want to escape me?”
Gingerly, she shakes her head. “No. It was just hard not knowing where you were.”
I’m trying to imagine her position; it’s a bit of a struggle when I’m jealous of all the time she had with Lola.
“I’m here now,” I whisper to myself.
But she heard me. “What is it that you want, Hayes?”
Elodie saying my name in any tone stokes fire in me. Both the good and the bad. “More of this. I get that we can’t just tell her who I am, but I’m not going to wait long to do it, either.”
In the corner of my eye, I see her nod once slowly as she listens. “Have you told your family?”
My lips quirk. “Not yet. Well, my mom will be thrilled. She might go a little overboard. That’s bound to happen when her only child becomes a dad, I guess.
I’m not getting younger, either. Plus, since my dad died, she's been trying to find ways to fill her time. I try to talk with her at least once a week and ensure she is taken care of. Her spirits will lift. What better way than a grandchild? Be afraid that she’ll consider moving to Illinois. ”
Elodie continues to listen attentively. “She’s on the east coast, right?”
“Yeah, Boston.” My mother is a character, insists on going to the gym several times a week even at seventy, and she’s done her best to stay in good spirits since my dad passed unexpectedly. I should fly out to see her more often. “Your parents are going to murder me, aren’t they?”
“Nah.” She waves me off. “They are good honest people. Your money is nothing to them. My dad just retired after years as a manager at an agriculture company near Everhope, and it gave us an upbringing that we count our blessings for. To be honest, nobody in Everhope is struggling.”
“Reminds me of my family. My dad worked hard, and my mom was a teacher.” We grew up similarly in a way, and I would like to think that it means we grew up with similar values. A smile tickles my mouth. “You’re avoiding the main question of how they took the news.”
“I mean, they weren’t over the moon when I told them I was pregnant and the dad wasn’t in the picture.
I mean…” She raises one hand above her head.
“My brother is serving his country.” She lowers her other hand to show a difference in scale.
“Their daughter accidentally became pregnant, with no man in her life,” she quips before turning serious.
“But I’ve explained to them how this all came to be…
after my dad’s favorite hockey team won a game and he’d had a few beers, of course. To lighten the blow.” She isn’t joking.
She continues, “They dote on Lola. It worked out. They are aware you re-entered the picture and are giving us space until I’m ready for you to meet them. They don’t blame you. Even if they did, would you care?”
Scratching the back of my neck and crossing one ankle over the other, I have to highlight the obvious about me. “People don’t scare me, Elodie. But out of principle and respect, then maybe. It’s the honorable thing to do, to stand by a woman when you get her pregnant.”
She hums a sound. “It’s commendable but has to be for the right reasons, Hayes. Not because of the way we were raised or think it is supposed to be.”
I have to chuckle. “I’m not sure my mom from Boston with a strong Irish Catholic background would agree. She still sometimes goes to confession. I’m already anticipating her second sentence, which will be about marriage.”
One look and Elodie seems petrified.
Shrugging, I have to calm her, even though a part of me considered the option. “I’m not suggesting that, unless that’s what you would have expected from day one had I been there at the beginning.”
She shakes her head fervently side to side. “No. My parents have an amazing marriage, and it’s because they married for the right reasons. Not because of a sense of obligation.”
“Still, I’ve gone crazy the last few days because I can’t pinpoint so many aspects of how to go down this road. Honorable and responsible keep coming to mind.”
Immediately, she scoffs and steps forward. “This isn’t about the honorable thing. You don’t need to get close or suggest all of these documents if it’s out of obligation.”
She moves to leave my orbit, but I’m quick to touch her wrist and prevent her from going. “Obligation and wanting to provide are almost the same. I want to get to know Lola, and I want to provide.”
She eases, but my hand is still on her arm, and my fingers feel glued to her. Touching her could become a vice. I just can’t let the magnetic force between us go. She doesn’t step back, either.
“Uhm.” Her voice is delicate, and her fingers feather over the back of my hand glued to her wrist. “You mentioned your dad passing. You spoke about him a lot on the island. What do you think his reaction would’ve been?”
It stings that he isn’t around. It’s the memory of him that has helped remind me to soften around Elodie and Lola.
I slip my gaze away from her as I reflect.
“Nobody expects to see someone at breakfast, then never again when everything seems to be going well. I’m grateful that I was in town when it happened.
We had lunch the day before, he and I, after he met with his broker.
” I smile somberly to myself. “We were talking stocks. You and he might have gotten along. Numbers and all.”
“He sounds like a good man.”
“He was. I’ve been wondering what he would think of all of this. He was a little traditional in some ways and not in others. I guess it's unpredictable where his opinions would lie. I think he would’ve laughed and passed me a cigar.”
She smiles sympathetically. “I could envision you accepting it, even though I guess you don’t really smoke cigars, do you?”
“No. Occasionally at a wedding.”
Silence grows between us.
“When do you want to see her again?” she asks softly.