12. Bryan
12
brYAN
N ova nudged me in the ribs with her elbow. I glanced over and she pointed at Amelia’s back. My daughter sat on the floor in front of the Christmas tree, swaying back and forth. The tree had consumed the entirety of their day, and Amelia was enthralled by it. Each sway to the side was corrected with a slight jerk back into a more upright position.
Nova suppressed a giggle as Amelia finally, slowly slid to the side. Her little limbs fell to the side as she lost the fight to sleep.
“And she’s out. Poor kid, she’s had a long day,” Nova said.
“Long?” I glanced at my watch. It was barely past dinner. Amelia still had food on her plate.
“She’s spent a lot of energy. It’s all been very exciting for her. She’s worn out.”
“I never thought Christmas trees were that thrilling,” I admitted.
“They are when it’s the first time you’ve ever had one,” Nova said.
“We’ve had Christmas trees before,” I said.
“When? Not last year. Did you have one the year before?”
I shook my head. The last tree we had was the year Natalie left us. Amelia would have been two. “It’s been a while.”
Nova stood and began collecting the dirty plates from our dinner. Amelia had insisted that we eat where she could watch the tree. And I had insisted that Nova join us. After all, she had done the majority of the work getting the tree and then coordinating decorations. Amelia’s time and energy had been spent dancing around and being generally excited.
So, we had dinner sitting around the den where the tree had been put on display. Nova and I sat on the couch using the coffee table, while Amelia had taken up her position on the floor in front of the tree.
“I’ll set these in the kitchen, and then I’ll come back and get Amelia to bed,” Nova said.
“Don’t worry about Amelia. She’s not going anywhere.” I chuckled. “I’ll take her upstairs and get her in bed as soon as I finish.” I took another bite of the hearty chili Nova had prepared. “This is really good.”
“Thanks, I’m glad you like it. There have been so many additional things going on, I found it easier to start a pot of chili and let it simmer all day instead of preparing something more elaborate. If you need me to make something different, please let me know,” Nova said.
“This is warm and filling. It’s perfect.” I had another spoonful. Mother would have called it peasant food , a bowl full of meat and beans. But I liked it. There was enough spice to be interesting, and topped with cheese, it felt more filling than a roasted chicken breast would have. “Besides, Amelia liked it, and that’s important.”
I realized Nova stood over me because she was waiting for me to finish and hand her my dishes. I handed her the empty bowl.
“Thank you. If you decide you want more, there is plenty. You’ll be having it for lunch tomorrow,” she said as she carried everything out of the room.
I patted my belly as I stood. It was perfectly flat, even though I was full enough that I almost expected it to round out. I stepped around the coffee table and over to where my daughter lay sprawled out on the floor. She was so peaceful and beautiful. My perfect little angel.
I lifted her into my arms. She weighed practically nothing and was all long, skinny arms and legs.
“You need to eat more of Nova’s chili,” I whispered. And to think Mother was concerned that she ate too many cookies. Any food this child ate, she immediately burned off.
I shifted her when I got to the stairs.
She murmured something.
“Hush, hush, go back to sleep,” I whispered.
The nightlight was already glowing a soft pink in the far corner of her room. I gently placed her on her bed. She was as limp as a rag doll as I carefully took her shoes off. I contemplated wrestling her into her nightgown but decided her clothes were soft enough. One night sleeping in them wouldn’t hurt. She reached out and grabbed her stuffed cat, bringing it against her face for cuddles.
I sat on the edge of her bed and gently patted her tiny back, soothing her back to sleep.
“Daddy.” Her voice was tiny and barely above a whisper.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Is this what having a mommy is like?”
I froze. My heart skipped a beat. Amelia didn’t ask me too many questions about having a mother. She knew she had one. She knew her mother had made other choices. Choices that weren’t us.
“Go to sleep.”
Amelia rolled over and looked up at me. “Is Nova like a mommy?”
“No. Nova is our cook and your nanny.”
“But she’s nice, and she had dinner with us, and she likes us.”
Nova did like us. And we liked her. I knew Amelia adored her, and my motives were wholly different. I liked her very much. But none of that made Nova like a mother. Was there a difference, emotionally, between someone willing to be called ‘Mommy’ and one who insisted on being called ‘Mother’?
How did I tell my kid I didn’t know what it was like to have a ‘mommy,’ someone who was emotionally available and actually liked her child? My mother barely had a maternal bone in her body. The woman who had given birth to Amelia had run away when she clued into the reality of having children…
“I don’t know, sweetheart. I don’t know.”
I sat with her for a long while, making sure she was asleep before I got up. I took my time heading back downstairs. Was I trying to avoid Nova, or was I trying to figure this question out for myself before I faced her?
Nova was charming and beautiful. Her smile brought joy into my home. Her very presence made my daughter happy. And what thinking about her did to me… She was fully distracting in a way that I had nothing to complain about.
I hadn’t thought about finding a mother for my daughter once in the past four years. Had I been selfish keeping that away from her? I had my own issues surrounding that loss and abandonment. Was I seriously thinking it was time to find a mother for Amelia and a wife for me?
When I thought about Nova, it was not to contemplate getting a mother for my daughter. Nova elicited thoughts of seduction and sweaty bodies twisting together. There was nothing wholesome and family oriented when it came to what I thought about Nova. But could there be? I enjoyed her company. Amelia certainly did.
I returned to the den. I stared at the Christmas tree. Amelia and Nova had done a good job with it. It felt right to have one up this year. After a few moments, I scanned the den and collected a few glasses that had been left. I carried them into the kitchen.
“Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” Nova said when she saw me carrying in the glasses. “Is Amelia still asleep?”
“All tucked in.” I placed the glasses next to the sink.
“Thanks for inviting me to stay for dinner,” Nova said as she rinsed the glasses.
“It was Amelia’s idea,” I admitted. “And it was a good one. I see no reason you couldn’t sit and enjoy the tree with us.”
“You spoil her,” Nova said.
“I do. I love my daughter. I see no reason not to give her everything she wants.”
“I was wrong earlier.”
“Oh, yeah? Do you frequently admit to when you are wrong? Should I make note of this momentous occasion?” I teased.
“I can see why Amelia wants all of your attention. Because when she has it, she has all of you. You give a hundred and ten percent of yourself. I see why it’s hard to work when she’s around for you.”
“Oh, really?” I leaned on the counter.
“You’re the kind of man who gives work your full attention. You can’t give all of yourself to both work and to Amelia. I know I said it was a balancing act you’re going to have to figure out, but you might not be able to balance, all or nothing. It’s not that she is demanding. It’s you being giving. It’s cute how much you like each other.” She glanced at me and then quickly looked away. “Your attention can be rather intense.”
“Am I intimidating you now?” I hadn’t realized how much into her personal space I had slid until she placed a damp hand on the center of my chest.
I slid my fingers around her hand.
“Bryan, we shouldn’t,” Nova said on a gasp.
“Shouldn’t what?” I asked as I lowered my head to hers. “What if I want to give my attention to you?”
Her lips were soft and warm as I claimed them. I had been dreaming of her mouth for days. She tasted better than my memories.
She pressed against me, sliding her hands up my chest, over my shoulders, and down my arms before reaching up and wrapping them around my neck. I slid my hand down the slope of her back as I dipped my tongue between her parted lips. We melted into each other, and time stood still as the kiss grew with intensity and purpose.
Nova stiffened and then was backing out of my embrace. “We can’t. We’re supposed to be keeping this professional, remember?”
My memories were fuzzy when it came to words, but my body remembered. And I wanted—no, needed—her back in my arms.
“I can’t. Not right now. Not like this.” She ran.
Something stopped me from running after her, that part of my brain that knew if I pursued her right now, she would never come back. I needed her to come back, not for Amelia, not to cook. I needed her to come back for me.