Chapter 10
DAREK
While Daisie snoozed on the couch, Liza and I both settled in on opposites sides of the room. She was in the chair while I stretched out on the loveseat. The sugar and grease had caught up with me as well.
We both scrolled through our phones. It wasn’t awkward at all. I honestly thought Liza would have retreated to her room. She was under no obligation to hang out.
I liked it. That comfortable silence that couples had after spending years together. But we had only spent a couple of days together.
“So,” Liza said, breaking the silence. Her voice was carefully casual. “Any fallout from last night’s festivities?”
I knew exactly what she was asking. Had Sasha reached out? Had there been consequences from their little verbal sparring match?
“Nothing worth mentioning,” I said, keeping my own tone neutral. I glanced at Daisie to make sure she was still asleep. “The usual noise.”
“I feel bad about…” She trailed off, her eyes also darting to the couch. “You know. The way I handled things.”
“You handled things fine.”
“I could have been more diplomatic.”
“She wasn’t exactly diplomatic either.” I set my phone down. “Look, you defended yourself. That’s allowed. You’re not required to be a doormat just because she used to be married to me.”
Liza bit her lip, still looking troubled. “I just don’t want to make things harder for you. With the situation.”
The custody battle. All the things we couldn’t say out loud with Daisie in the room, even if she was sleeping.
“You’re not making anything harder,” I assured her. “Trust me, that ship sailed a long time ago. Nothing you said last night changed anything.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
Sasha had sent a couple of nasty texts, but I’d ignored her. She was pissed that I’d shown up with someone attractive and intelligent. That was her problem, not ours.
“Okay.” Liza seemed to relax slightly. “As long as I didn’t screw things up for you.”
“The only thing you screwed up was Mrs. Cavendish’s dress, and I’m sure she’s already forgotten about it.”
That got a small laugh out of her. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
“I’m saying it because it’s true. She probably threw the champagne-soaked one in the trash and moved on with her life.”
“Rich people are weird.”
“You’re not wrong.” I picked my phone back up, scrolling through emails I didn’t really care about.
Daisie stirred on the couch, mumbling something about turtles in her sleep. We both went silent, waiting to see if she’d wake up. She didn’t, just rolled over and settled deeper into the cushions.
“She’s going to be out for a while,” I said.
“Poor thing. I feel it, too. We didn’t even do anything physically exhausting, but I’m wiped out.”
I nodded. “Me too.”
“Do you guys do this every weekend?”
“Not every weekend, but as often as I can.”
She smiled again. “She had fun.”
Daisie woke up from her impromptu nap about thirty minutes later with her hair mussed and the friendship bracelets still on her wrist. She declared she was hungry about two minutes after she opened her eyes.
“We just ate corn dogs and fries a few hours ago,” I pointed out.
“But it’s Saturday,” she said, like that explained everything.
“She has a point,” Liza added, trying not to smile. “It is Saturday.”
“I’m being ganged up on,” I muttered.
“We should get pizza,” Daisie offered.
I groaned. “I’m going to have to spend an hour on the treadmill.”
Liza looked at me. Like really looked. I had to fight the urge to flex my biceps and pecs.
“Do you like pizza?” Daisie asked Liza.
“I do.”
I knew I had lost the battle at that point. I pulled up the number for the local pizza joint that we frequented.
“Pepperoni?” I asked.
“Extra cheese,” Daisie replied.
I looked at Liza. “I’m good with anything.”
I ordered two pizzas, breadsticks, and the cinnamon things for breakfast.
An hour later, we were sprawled across the couches in the living room, pizza boxes open on the coffee table, Moana playing on the oversized TV.
“You guys don’t watch TV in the media room?” Liza asked.
“Sometimes,” I replied. “But honestly, it’s way more comfortable stretching out on the couch.”
She started laughing.
“What?”
“Rich people problems make me laugh.”
“Sorry,” I muttered. “That sounded really pretentious.”
“No. It didn’t. It’s normal for you guys. It’s just funny. I have a twenty-inch TV. There is a line through the screen.”
I knew we were fortunate. I tried to teach Daisie to be humble. Her school was filled with rich kids. We lived in an exclusive community. She was used to nice things.
Daisie and I sat on one couch and Liza had moved to the one I had been on earlier. Liza seemed genuinely enthralled by the movie. She said she had never seen it before. I thought she was joking but clearly not.
I had a moment. This was what I had wanted for Daisie.
My little girl had had a great day. No, a great day didn’t even cover it.
She’d been glowing since we got home. We’d been to the arcade numerous times but today was different.
I loved that Liza fit in seamlessly. I honestly thought Daisie would be her typical self. She didn’t warm up to people easily.
But she and Liza had gotten along almost immediately.
Daisie was happy. Really, genuinely happy. And I would do anything to keep her that way.
Liza was surprisingly fun to hang out with, too.
I knew she was smart. You didn’t get into a PhD program without being intelligent.
But I hadn’t expected her to be funny. All day, I had gotten the chance to have real conversations with her, and that was a change.
Other women I dated were pretty but shallow.
Not dumb, just focused on themselves and things that were only important to them.
Liza made dry observations about the movie. When Daisie asked questions about whether the ocean could really choose someone, Liza launched into an explanation of ocean currents and tides that somehow made it sound magical rather than scientific.
“So the ocean can’t really talk,” Daisie said, sounding disappointed.
“Well, not in words. But it has its own language. Waves and currents and tides. If you learn to read it, it tells you things.”
“Like what?”
“Like when a storm is coming. Or where the fish are. Or which way to sail to get where you’re going.” Liza glanced at me. “Your dad probably knows some of this already. People who build boats have to understand the ocean.”
“Is that true, Daddy?”
“It’s true.”
Daisie seemed very satisfied with that answer. Liza looked at me and flashed a smile. I winked in response.
When the movie ended, Daisie was rubbing her eyes, fighting sleep even though it was clearly winning.
“Bedtime, kiddo,” I said, standing up and stretching.
“I’m not tired.”
“Sure you’re not.” I held out my hand. “Come on. Teeth, pajamas, bed.”
She took my hand and let me lead her upstairs. After getting her changed into her pajamas, I tucked her in.
“Daddy?” Her voice was wobbly.
I knew that meant tears were incoming.
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
“I miss Mommy.”
The words were like a gut punch. I sat down on the edge of her bed, trying to figure out what to say. This happened sometimes. She would have a great day, be perfectly happy, and then bedtime would come and she’d remember that her mother wasn’t there to say goodnight.
“I know you do,” I said, smoothing her hair back from her forehead. “But hey, don’t be sad. You had such a good day today, right? Let’s think about all the fun we had.”
“But I’m sad now,” she said. Tears started rolling down her cheeks. “Is that okay? Can I be sad even if I had fun?”
I opened my mouth, not sure how to answer that.
“Of course you can be sad,” Liza said.
My head whipped around. I hadn’t even known she was there.
She walked in and sat on the other side of the bed. She started rubbing Daisie’s arm in slow, soothing circles. “You can feel lots of things at the same time. Happy about today and sad about missing your mom. Both of those feelings are real, and both are okay.”
“Really?” Daisie sniffled.
“Absolutely,” Liza said. “I cry when I see some commercials or when I hear music I love.”
I watched and listened. This was the girl thing I didn’t fully understand.
“Really?”
“Really.” Liza nodded. “Do you know what baby whales do when they get separated from their mothers?”
Daisie shook her head.
“They cry. They make these sad sounds, calling and calling for their mothers. And you know what? That’s perfectly natural. It’s how they express what they’re feeling. It doesn’t mean they’re bad whales or weak whales. It means they love their mothers, and they miss them when they’re apart.”
“Like me,” Daisie whispered.
“Like you. And it’s okay to let those feelings out. Cry when you need to cry. That’s how we process emotions and make room for new happy feelings to come in later.”
I watched Liza work her magic. Daisie’s breathing slowed as Liza kept talking in that gentle voice about whales and feelings and how it was brave to feel your emotions instead of hiding them.
Something in my chest cracked open. This was what Daisie needed. Not someone telling her to cheer up or think positive thoughts, but someone who validated her pain, who made her feel like her sadness was normal and acceptable.
Daisie really did need a maternal figure in her life. I’d been trying so hard to be both parents, but there were things I just couldn’t give her. Perspectives I didn’t have. A gentleness I struggled to access when I was busy being angry at Sasha for putting us in this position.
I would have happily brought Sasha back into Daisie’s life. But she’d gone for the jugular, trying to get custody. She wasn’t willing to share. She wanted to win.
It didn’t help that I was still so angry with her for leaving in the first place.
How dare she come back now and demand custody? How dare she act like she had any right to parent a child she’d willingly left behind?
I watched Liza with Daisie and felt a different kind of panic rising.
Oh shit. I can’t let Liza bond with Daisie like this.
This was fake. Our relationship was a business arrangement. In a few weeks, Liza would leave. If Daisie had bonded with her for real, losing her would devastate my daughter all over again.