Chapter 24
CHAPTER 24
S avannah
I open the shower door and a rush of steam escapes, fogging up the mirrors. The instant temperature change from hot to cold makes goosebumps appear and the chill puckers my nipples. I wrap a towel around me, the plush material feels soft against my sensitive skin.
I’d left the bathroom door open so I can see Gigi through the crack. She’s been watching Bluey in my bed since I stepped into the bathroom. I can see her through the drifting fog escaping through the widened space. Nearly disappearing in the middle of my King-sized bed, she’s adorned with old costume jewelry I’ve given her. Resplendent in the many-colored rhinestones, the light catches the jewels. Gigi sparkles and finishes off her regal appearance by wearing the tiara Candace gave to me on my twenty-fifth birthday.
I have mixed feelings about dinner tonight with Ian. He remembers nothing of our night together. For him, that time is caught up in the overdose and the events that followed. It’s one of several reasons I’ve unlocked my heart.
I turn back to the task at hand, massaging moisturizer into my legs, arms, and the rest of my body. The cream feels good on my skin, while the pressure loosens tight muscles.
I turn to the mirror and grab my makeup bag from beneath the sink, satisfied by the sound the contents make as they clack inside the leather bag. A swipe at the condensation clears the mirror and I study my reflection. I haven’t dated since I learned about Gigi. She was just a little bean in a picture, but the connection was strong. Her existence was a caress in my chaos, and she’s lifted my heart like it was helium-filled with her mewing cries and full-belly giggles. Everything I do is for her. This dinner is the first adult thing I’ve done for myself.
“Hi, Momma.” My little munchkin skips into the bathroom and comes to stand beside me. With her pointer finger, she traces and studies the faint silvery evidence that’s proof on my skin of her growing inside me. “Do dems hurt, Momma?”
“Nope. They don’t hurt at all.”
“I think dems pretty,” she whispers as she places a sweet kiss on a spot.
Though fleeting, a thought arises, and I wonder how Ian would react to the sight. No doubt he’s seen countless women naked, all pumped up and perky with various plastic procedures.
“Where’s you goin’ Momma?”
“Out with Ian.”
“Oh, I like hims, Momma.”
“You do? Why, baby? What do you like about him?”
Her expression morphs, reminding me of an old-time Kewpie doll my mom used to have. Her eyes go big and blue like the sky on a fresh spring morning. She braces her head with an “L” formed by her thumb and index finger as she ponders the question.
“Ummmmmmm. He likes buggies and wormies, and lots of stars, and dogs, and me, and you, and Sam!” She bobs her head up and down. “I like him, Momma, ‘cause E-ban’s a good person.”
Her simple criteria makes me smile. “I guess he is.”
“He is, Momma. You gotta trust the process.”
My head spins from the mirror to her as my brows pinch. “Where did you hear that?” I laugh.
“I dunno. I just did.” She shrugs.
Ian isn’t just a nice man. His connection to Gigi has haunted my nightmares and fed my dreams. I never thought to give him space in our lives as anything more than an acquaintance but, seeing him through the eyes of a child has shown him in a different light. He loves Gigi. Of that, I’m certain.
I close my eyes, affording myself a moment of pleasure to revisit images of Ian and Gigi together. Her smile. His hugs. Her high-pitched squeals. They’re friends of the heart.
And it happened right in front of my eyes.
I’m not sure how that makes me feel. I’m possessive and extremely protective of people I love. There are so few of them and so many bad people who drift unnoticed in a world where violence finds good people. But Ian’s not one of them.
The thought wraps around my heart. Ian’s been misjudged by those who’ve not walked in his shoes, including me. I’m one of many who’ve not felt his pain or wrestled with his demons and, yet, stood in judgment. It was shallow of me.
I return my gaze to the mirror and my stretch marks. I’m more than my physical appearance just as Ian is more than his past. More important than that, I want to set a good example for my daughter. I’ve not lived in his skin, nor he in mine, but I never want Gigi to see me as one of the high and mighty who judge without heart. I don’t want to be that person. Maybe children should be our teachers instead of the other way around. They love without reservation or judgment and are surely the sweetness in the world.
As I wrap my hair around the brush bristles and run the blow dryer, the quiet humming sound coaxes me into a more serene state. I’m looking forward to tonight. Dinner with Ian is an opportunity to know him better, but also one to know myself better.
* * *
As I slip into the black dress, the fabric cools as it slides over my skin. It’s a simple one with a modest neckline but is sexy in a Carolina Herrera way. It’s been in my closet forever, hidden in the back since I moved here, the tags still dangling from the sleeve. It zips up the side; the teeth disappearing into the fabric and resting against my skin.
“You looks so pretty, Momma.” Gigi’s breathless compliment makes me feel all warm inside.
“Thank you, baby.” I smile and hold my hand out in an invitation for hers. “We have to get your things. Sam’s going to pick you up and take you to Cora’s.”
“Yay!” She takes my hand, and we walk out of the bedroom. My hips sway as femininity takes control and with each step, Gigi copies my strut, the long beads hanging down her front bouncing from side to side.
“We is pwetty like princesses!”
“Yes, we are, sweet girl.” I scoop her up in my arms and twirl us around, Gigi squealing with laughter. We’re having a giggle fest when my phone rings.
“Hello?”
“Savannah.” Ian’s tone is deep and as serious as the grave.
My smile fades. “What’s wrong?”
He pauses, then lets out a long sigh. “I think this might be a mistake.”