Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Gabriel
From where I was sitting on the sofa, I sorted through emails and watched Penelope play with Bethany out of the corner of my eye.
The irony was bordering on comical. Penelope had picked out the wallpaper in this living room.
She’d said she liked the green, as it reminded her of springtime.
She’d probably forgotten. Now, she was just an unwanted houseguest.
The new nanny had said I didn’t need to work from home today and that she’d had experience with supervised visits from parents in our situation before.
But there was no way I’d leave Bethany alone with a stranger who’d been working for us for just a few days.
So I was here. With my ex-wife and my daughter in a corrupted version of what my life was supposed to have been.
And on top of that, I was trying to forget that it had probably been Penelope’s unscheduled visit that led to Autumn leaving.
I was trying not to hate Penelope even more than I did.
My soon-to-be ex-wife was sitting cross-legged on the rug, playing a memory game with Bethany. The new nanny was hovering beside them and Jade sat and observed.
Bethany was giggling at the game in front of her. “Daddy, look,” she said, holding up one of the small cards. “The monkey is wearing lipstick.”
“It looks like your mouth when you’ve eaten an ice lolly,” I said. “Find the other matching one.”
She knew exactly where it was. “Here,” she said, picking up one of the cards lying face down on the floor. She didn’t even check it was the monkey before she held it up to me. She was smart and confident. Yes, definitely my daughter.
“Clever girl,” I said.
She shrugged and allowed Penelope to take her turn. She didn’t make a pair and I couldn’t work out whether or not her mistake was deliberate.
“I’m bored,” Bethany said. “Daddy, please can we go to the swings?”
“You don’t have to come,” Penelope said before I could respond. “I can take her. Jade will be there.”
I wasn’t about to leave Bethany alone with her mother. And some time away from my laptop would be good. “Come on then,” I said to Bethany. “Get your jacket.”
Bethany had her coat and shoes on in record time. I grabbed my keys from the kitchen drawer and herded everyone out.
“Did you pick up your phone?” Penelope asked.
I’d forgotten it but I wasn’t going to let Penelope think she’d helped me remember. “Don’t need it,” I said.
Penelope chuckled. “How times have changed.”
I ignored her. I had no desire to share laughs about old times with her. I didn’t want to be reminded about how it had all been a lie.
Bethany’s hand slipped into mine as we took the familiar route around the back of the house to the park, Jade and Penelope following behind us. “Can you push me a thousand times?” Bethany tugged on my hand.
“My arms will fall off if I do that.”
Bethany laughed. “No, they won’t. Please, Daddy.”
“I’ll push you ten times,” I countered.
“Twenty,” she said.
“Deal.” If I could successfully negotiate with a four-year-old, my current transaction—a one-point-two billion tech acquisition—would be child’s play.
We entered the playground and found it almost empty. “Penpee, will you push me twenty times same as Daddy?” Bethany asked, racing toward her favorite swing.
I glanced over at Penelope and wondered how it felt that her daughter didn’t call her Mummy.
Not that she was a mother. She’d resigned her position three years ago.
But at least Penelope hadn’t pushed it—hadn’t demanded to tell her that she was her mother.
I had to give her some credit for putting Bethany first, because that didn’t happen when she left.
There was no way I’d let Bethany know that Penelope was her mother, only for Penelope to disappear again.
Bethany would start to question if she was the problem and worse, might wonder if I’d leave her too.
Up until now, I’d always explained to Bethany that her mother lived far away and that she and I were a small, special family together.
She’d known nothing else, so she’d simply accepted it.
“Absolutely,” she said. “You need a hand getting on?” Bethany held her arms up and Penelope lifted her onto the seat of the swing and started to push.
“Higher,” Bethany demanded. “High. High. High.”
“Now you can do it on your own,” I called out. When she got going, I stopped pushing her. Penelope wouldn’t know this particular trick.
Autumn would. We’d laughed about it one evening just after we’d kissed for the first time.
I closed my eyes, trying to erase the memory of her from my head but knowing any time not thinking about her would be temporary. She lived permanently in my mind, if not my house.
Bethany brought me back to the moment. “Daddy, see how high I am?”
“That’s really high. Be careful,” I said.
Bethany spent ten times longer on the swing than I had patience for, and I wished I had my phone. Finally, when I’d pushed her double the times we’d agreed, she moved to the slide. There was nothing for Penelope to do other than stand aside and watch.
“Would you mind if I took a photograph?” she asked me, glancing at Jade.
I shrugged. “Go ahead.”
Now she wanted to capture memories? She’d missed out on three years’ worth of pictures.
“Thank you,” she said after she snapped a couple. “It means a lot to me.”
“Have you dropped this issue of getting custody?” I snapped as Bethany climbed the stairs to the slide again.
Penelope didn’t respond as we both watched her get to the top of the stairs and slide to the bottom, then race around to start the process again.
“I know that I’ve hurt you,” she said in a small, low voice. “And Bethany—”
“You can see she’s completely fine.”
She paused while Bethany came down the slide again only to race around to the steps. “I know that I’ve made choices that I regret, and I know they have consequences. But I’d like to try to not have the mistakes I’ve made last forever.”
“You can’t undo leaving,” I said. “You can’t suddenly expect those three years to disappear.”
“I know,” she said, pushing her hands into her pockets and pausing again until Bethany was out of earshot. “But I left for three years. I don’t want to let that turn into sixteen. Or a lifetime.”
I tried to think back to my earliest memory.
When I was Bethany’s age, I spent a lot of time hiding in the small cupboard in my bedroom.
I’d climb in there when my parents argued.
Every time my mother shut herself in her bedroom to sob.
When I first became aware of her crying, I would try to comfort her—I wanted to somehow turn off her pain.
But she’d tell me she was fine and would send me away to play.
So I’d go to the cupboard where I wouldn’t hear and I could pretend it wasn’t happening.
I didn’t want Bethany’s childhood memories to be of her hiding anywhere.
At the same time, I didn’t want to create a new problem. I didn’t want Bethany to come to me one day and ask me why I hadn’t let her see her mother.
“I’m not trying to take her away from you, Gabriel. I would never. You’re a good man and a wonderful father. Bethany is very lucky to have you. I don’t want to ruin any of that.”
Didn’t she see that she already had? “There are no second chances,” I said. “Not when it comes to me. Not when it comes to my daughter.”
Penelope sighed. “I know, Gabriel,” she said in a resigned tone. “I know.”
Bethany moved on to the roundabout and Penelope rode on with her as she spun them both around. Then onto the monkey bars. Bethany had been trying for a while now to cross them without falling.
“Go as quickly as you can,” I said as she ran over to me to hand me her jacket. She nodded, determination in her eyes.
She got halfway across and dropped to the ground.
“You okay?” I asked, as Penelope rushed to her.
Bethany sprang up and went right back to where she’d started. “I’m going to try again,” she said.
“Good girl.” Never give up.
Penelope backed away. “See. If she gave up when she failed the first time, she’d never learn to master anything,” she said.
I huffed out a breath. I could see right through her. There was no way she could equate the two circumstances and I wouldn’t allow her to manipulate me. “But you did give up, Penelope. You gave up for three years.”
Bethany passed the tricky halfway point and was almost across. “Keep going,” I called. “You’re nearly there.”
Just before she hit the last rung, her hand slipped and she fell to the ground—just thirty centimeters or so. She’d been so close.
“How are your hands?” I asked.
She held up her palms. “Sore.”
“Maybe take a break and try again next time. You were so close.”
She nodded and skipped over to me to collect her jacket. I helped her into the sleeves so her top didn’t ruche up on the arms in the way she hated.
“My palms were sore, Gabriel. I needed a break,” Penelope said. “But I don’t want to give up. Not on my daughter. And not on my marriage.”
I didn’t reply. I didn’t have anything to say. Marriage and a child weren’t trying to cross the monkey bars. Sometimes you just needed to push through—do what was being asked of you by the people who loved you.
Bethany raced back to me and slipped her hand into mine and we headed home, Penelope and Jade following.
My mind started replaying my conversation with Autumn, as it had a hundred times since she left.
I had no desire to try again with Penelope.
But I wanted Autumn. More than anything, I wanted her to come back.
If I was following my own advice, I needed to do what was being asked of me. Perhaps I just had to push through.
“What are your plans for tomorrow?” I called over my shoulder.
“Me?” Penelope asked. “Nothing. Why?”
“Meet me at Primitivo’s at one,” I said, referring to a restaurant around the corner from my office.
We’d met a couple of times there before Bethany had been born.
Lunch with Penelope would be the start of what Autumn had asked of me.
I’d spend time with Penelope. I’d hear her out.
But only because that’s what it would take to get Autumn back.