8. Astrid
Sean didn’t want to talk the night of our fight. He didn’t really want to talk in the days after either. But it didn’t change our routine. The days he’s able to pick Violet up from school, he does. And the days when we’re both busy, I make sure to get home in time to help her off the bus. It makes it easier for me to finish up my work before coming home for the day, or at least finishing as much of it as I can.
The coordination around Violet’s schedule hasn’t created an opportunity for us to do more than talk in short sentences. I’ve made a point to apologize, and I’ve done so countless times, and he says he accepts it every time, but his actions make me wonder if that’s actually true.
I try not to keep pushing the issue. I don’t want something well meaning to become obnoxious and annoying. It’s a balance between not wanting to bother him and my desire to make sure that he understands my motives were never to hurt him or judge him. He’s clearly a wonderful parent. I would never want him to think otherwise.
I run out of creative ways to apologize after a few days, and try to accept that when he says it is fine, it is actually fine.
And it starts to feel true. Sean and I fall back into our comfortable coexistence. We work really well together, actually, while taking care of Violet. We make a good team.
On the days Sean is home, he even makes us dinner. And the days he’s not home, he makes sure that there’s something easy to make in the fridge. We keep a calendar of everyone’s schedules in the kitchen. It’s nice to take turns. It is almost like… well, it is almost like we’re a real family.
Almost.
When I picked Violet up from school today, she told me today that she’s happy I live here and asked me if I was going to become a part of the family. I didn’t know how to answer that, especially after the other night. So I did my best at changing the subject and then keeping her occupied so that she wouldn’t bring it up again.
So far so good.
“Violet, do you want to wash your hands and get ready for dinner?”
She nods her head instead of answering me, folding her coloring book, and putting away her crayons before coming over to wash her hands.
I can hear the garage door before I hear Sean. “Violet. Astrid,” he calls out as he walks inside. I give Violet a meaningful look and she jumps up to greet her dad before he gets to the kitchen.
Violet’s the easiest kid to take care of. She’s very sweet, very responsible for a child. She doesn’t talk much. She watches. She studies. I can definitely tell that she’s Sean’s kid. She’s so much like her dad that I never think to ask Sean about her mother, Victoria.
She even looks like him, with her thick dark hair and deep brown eyes.
“Aww, my princess,” he says, wrapping her in his arms and twirling her in the air the moment he walks into the room.
I’ve been careful to avoid commenting on Sean’s parenting again. I thought about it. I suppose I understand his frustration, a stranger coming into his home and telling him how and what to say to the little girl he’s raised. I didn’t mean harm by it, and I was nervous that maybe between that and the almost kiss I’ve overstepped some boundary. But to my surprise, Violet has become a bonding element between us these last few days. Although we may disagree on some things, I’m surprised to find we have a lot in common.
Like that time he wanted to kiss me and I wanted to kiss him.
I haven’t brought that up either. I’ve chalked it up to either an impulsive moment, or something I’ve made up entirely in my head. He was just helping me move, and he wanted to make sure my ankle was okay and that my stuff got put away. And that pizza stain on my shirt, that was normal too. He just wanted to help. We were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, not two people with chemistry. Hell, maybe he didn’t think about kissing me at all.
I don’t take it personally that he’s avoiding me. I understand why that would be hard, in his mind. First you save a woman—I’m sure he thinks he saved me—then she moves in, then she basically tries to kiss you. He’s probably afraid that I’m in love.
Well, he doesn’t have to worry about that. I definitely won’t be falling in love with him. I’m just here to do my job, save my money, and move on.
“Did you have a good time at school?” he asks Violet. He ruffles her dark hair before setting her back on her feet.
She nods her head silently, rushing back into the living room.
I hear her book bag unzip and the rustling of papers, then the tiny padding rhythm of her footsteps as she runs back into the kitchen.
“Look what I made,” she says. Her excitement is barely contained in her movements.
Sean picks her up so she can sit on one of the kitchen stools.
“It’s our family.” She rolls out the paper for us to look at. “This is you,” she says, pointing to the tall skinny figure holding a stick. “And this is me.” She points to a woman in the corner, “and that’s Mommy.”
Oh no. I realize why she’s so excited to show us, and I can’t stop it from happening.
I’m mortified.
“And this is Astrid.” She points to the stick figure next her dad.
My gaze snaps to Sean who’s already looking at me.
Shit.
“Oh, oooh, that’s— that’s so nice, Violet.” Sean looks at me as if I’ll have an explanation. “Did you help with this project too, Astrid?”
I narrow my eyes at his tone. So much for thinking things were going better.
“No Dad,” Violet laughs, like it’s obvious. “We did this in art class today, I told you.” Her little hand traces the people on the page. “Do you like it? Can we put it on the fridge?” She bounces in her seat.
Sean stares at me, then his eyes soften on Violet. “I love it, princess. Of course.”