I knew that this was going to happen one day, that I would have to have a serious talk with Everly and her expectations for the future. She didn’t want children, and I was fine with that. Abby was more than enough for me, but I wasn’t sure if she would be a deal breaker for Everly. At the end of the day, if it didn’t work between us, then I would gladly stand beside Abby and promise that nothing would ever come close to the love I have for her. We could make a life without a mother, or possibly try again one day.
I groaned. I didn’t realize this was going to be so difficult.
I knocked softly on Abby’s door, listening to the sniffles on the other side.
“Go away!” she yelled. I tapped again and opened it. “I said, go away.” Abby ducked under the covers as I entered her room. I tried soothing her by rubbing her back through the blankets, but she huffed and shoved my hand away.
“Am I ruining your sense of trust?” I asked, hoping to get a chuckle out of her.
“Betraying,” she corrected me. “Now go away. I don’t want to talk to anyone ever again. She hated my ugly painting.”
“Abby,” I sat on the edge of the bed. “No one hates your painting.”
A tuft of blonde hair popped out from beneath the comforter. “Everly hates it. She ran away.”
“Did she tell you that she hated it?” I asked. Abby squirmed on the bed, and finally her head popped out. Her blue eyes were covered in a thick layer of tears, and they slid down her face as she sniffed and wiped her arm beneath her nose.
“No,” she admitted. “She didn’t say she liked it.”
“So if Everly didn’t tell you to your face that she hated it, why do you think that?” I asked.
“Because it’s ugly,” Abby said.
“Did you know that Everly was feeling really sick all night?” I asked again. Abby shook her head.
“She’s sick?”
“Yes, she is. And she thought she was going to throw up, and didn’t want to ruin your beautiful picture. She might not have even seen the picture, to be honest. Would you rather she throw up on your painting?” I asked, trying to find the straightest and most innocent lie to help Abby feel better.
“No,” She shook her head. “I don’t want her to be sick on the painting.”
“Good,” I said. “So how about we let Everly get better, and then try showing it to her again? In the future?” I suggested. I would find a way to deal with Everly before then. Abby nodded.
“So it’s not ugly?” she asked.
“It’s beautiful,” I said and offered her my hand. “Come on, follow me.”
Abby slipped her tiny, clammy hand in mine and followed me down the stairs. I picked up her painting that she had thrown onto the ground, and led her into the kitchen, stopping in front of the fridge.
“This painting is so beautiful I’m going to put it right here on the fridge,” I said. “So everyone can see it. It’s a very special painting to me, sweetheart.”
Abby giggled and wiped off the rest of her tears. I picked her up and held her in my arms as we both admired the painting. The three stick figures had giant smiles on their faces, and the sun was shining brightly high above them. There were two cars parked on the side of the house, one a sports car, the other a van. Everly’s stick figure was wearing black pants and a white button-up shirt. I smirked, the typical outfit for a chef, and I was wearing my usual gray business suit.
We looked like a happy family, and I had to admit, I liked how it was making me feel. If only I could get Everly to come around. My heart was cleft in two thinking there may be no way to move forward with her.
“I’ll show her again,” Abby said. “Do you think she’ll like it?”
I didn’t want to lie, but I didn’t want to crush Abby’s hopes of having a mother.
“I hope so,” I said honestly. “I really hope so.”
Abby fell asleep on the couch moments later, and I took the opportunity to clean the kitchen. I scooped the lasagna into a container and set it in the fridge. I would reheat it for me and Abby later when she woke. Until then, I decided to attempt the lava cake myself and started chopping the blocks of chocolate.
It had been a while since I’d made a lava cake, and I had to look up one of the crucial steps. I wished I could have watched Everly make it, how her thin fingers moved around my kitchen as if she owned it. The sweet smell of her hair, always still dampened from what I presumed to be a shower before she arrived, mingling in with the scent of hazelnut and cake batter. She would glance at me with those bright green eyes that curve just slightly at the edge and smirk, asking if I was brave enough to mimic her actions.
I called her, the third time within the hour, but she didn’t answer. I didn’t want to annoy her, but I wanted to know that she was home safe. I sent a text and finished making the lava cake. Abby woke just as I was placing it into the oven, and I reheated the lasagna for us.
Abby approached the table with curious eyes. “Everly made this?” she asked as I pulled her chair back. She climbed up in it and her tiny feet dangled.
I lowered myself beside her and smiled. “She did,” I said. “And then she got sick, so she couldn’t finish it.”
“It’s better than yours,” Abby grinned. I chuckled and took a bite.
I savored the taste for a moment. “I guess it is,” I said, shoveling in another bite.
It didn’t take long to finish my plate, and Abby had eaten her fill before asking if we could watch a movie together.
I started it and served up a delicious lava cake. The movie was possibly a little too scary for Abby’s sake, but she braved it like a champ. I hadn’t realized the show would have so much violence, and turned it off early.
“Uncle Nick isn’t still letting you watch his movies, is he?” I asked as I glanced at my phone. Still no response.
“Maybe.” She yawned in my arms. “They’re not scary. It’s all make believe.”
“That’s a yes,” I murmured. “Stop watching horror movies with Uncle Nick. No wonder you’re getting nightmares every night.”
“They’re bad dreams,” Abby said. “Not nightmares.”
“That’s the same thing,” I said. She finished the last bites of her cake and then I carried her upstairs. We got ready for bed together, brushing our teeth as she sat on the bathroom counter.
“Is Everly feeling better now?” Abby asked. I laughed and checked my watch.
“It hasn’t even been five hours,” I said. “You have to at least give her a day.”
“I just want to show her my painting,” Abby said and finished brushing her teeth.
“She’ll see it soon enough,” I said. I only hoped that she wouldn’t run away again.
I helped Abby change into her pajamas, and kissed her forehead as she crawled into her bed. I smoothed out the covers over her, tucking her in tight around her arms the way she liked it.
“What do you want for breakfast?” I asked. Abby closed her eyes in concentration.
“Peanut butter coconut French toast,” she said.
“Did you just pick three random ingredients?” I asked. “I’ve never made that before.”
Abby smiled up at me. “I want you to make it for Everly.”
I nodded and brought the bed sheets up to her shoulders. “We’ll see if Everly is feeling better. If not, I’ll make it just for you, okay?”
She nodded and closed her eyes. I returned to my room and sat on the edge of the bed with my phone in my hand. Everly hadn’t answered my text, and my worry was growing with each passing moment.
I called her one last time, and left a voicemail.
“Hey, Everly,” I started. “I wanted to make sure you were home safe, and apologize for tonight. If you want to discuss it, I’m available whenever you are. I made the lava cake, and it was delicious. And your lasagna reheats well.” I hesitated, the pregnant pause becoming more awkward as the seconds passed. “Thank you for dinner and dessert, and again, I’m so sorry about earlier. I hope you’re s
afe at home. Goodnight.”
I hung up and sat my phone on the dresser. What was I supposed to do now? I checked the text message I’d sent, and realized Everly had at least read it. I was relieved knowing that she was just ignoring me.
The door opened, and I looked over to see Abby standing in her pajamas holding a stuffed animal.
“Scared?” I asked. She nodded.
“Can I sleep with you, Daddy?” she trembled, and I decided no more horror movies for her, ever. I scooted over and made room for her at the edge of the bed.
“Come here, sweetie,” I said. She crawled beneath the comforter and rested against me.
“I’m not scared,” she said as a tree branch thumped against the window. She squealed and pulled the blanket over her head.
“Of course you’re not,” I said. “They’re just bad dreams, after all.”
We lay in silence for a while, and just as I was about to drift off into sleep, her voice startled me awake.
“Did my mommy run away?” she asked. I blinked. It took me a moment to realize she was asking about her actual mother, Chelsea, and not Everly. I kept myself from groaning. Just what this night needed, a conversation about that gold digger. “Did she run away like Everly?”
“Abby, baby, your mom did leave,” I said. I was always careful about how I spoke about Chelsea. Abby didn’t need to know the whole truth, not just yet at least. “But it had nothing to do with you. She loved you very much. She left because she didn’t like me.”
Abby turned around so that she was facing me. “My mommy didn’t like you?”
“She didn’t,” I said.
“Then she’s not my mommy,” Abby decided. I bit the inside of my cheek.
“You don’t have to say that, honey,” I said.
Abby squished my hand in between her hands. “But I love you, Daddy, and if my mommy didn’t like you, then she’s stupid. Anyone who doesn’t like you is stupid.”
I chuckled and moved her hands onto the bed. “Thanks, baby. That means a lot.”
And it did, I realized as Abby fell asleep. At least I’d always have Abby, a daughter who didn’t seem to give her biological mom a second thought and would love me unconditionally. It made me feel so much better, but as I glanced at my phone on the table, I realized that despite what Abby said, I was still going to have to fix things with Everly. I only hoped she would let me.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Everly
I woke up wanting to fall back asleep forever. I couldn’t even force myself to get out of bed if I wanted to. The constant thoughts of “what now” kept me in a severe case of self-doubt until I convinced myself that as long as I stayed in this bed, nothing bad would happen and I wouldn’t have to make any decisions.
So, I covered my head with a pillow, turned off my phone, and tried to stop thinking about gray eyes and a charming smile. It was useless, of course, and all thoughts of Maddox eventually turned into thoughts of Abby, and that painting.
But thinking about Maddox affected me in more than one way. His touches, caresses, his voice as he moaned into my ear from behind. It had only been little over a day since I last felt him inside of me, and it was like there was a hole that needed to be filled. My body desired his in such a way that I’ve never experienced, and I wasn’t even sure if it was healthy. I’ve never felt like this before. Was I supposed to touch myself while thinking of only him? Was it okay to imagine his lips as they ran down my body, his tongue as it slipped in between my thighs? I squirmed in bed as my hands slowly moved toward my breasts.
I stopped myself. This was crazy! I’ve ignored the man for 12 hours, and now I was fantasizing about him? What was wrong with me?
Someone knocked on my front door, and I curled deeper into my bed. There was approximately zero percent chance that I would be leaving this bed.
The door opened and closed and I groaned as Belle and Lacey entered my apartment. They spoke loudly with one another, clearly not realizing that I was currently sulking in the corner of my bed.
My bedroom door opened.
“Oh, Everly,” Lacey said as she saw the distressed state my room was in. I’d had plenty to drink the night before, and no doubt she saw the empty bottles of liquor on my kitchen counter as she walked in. In my drunken stupor, I had accidentally knocked over two shelves in my room, and I hadn’t planned on cleaning them up until all of my angst was out of my system. I peeked one eye out of the covers and looked at the fallen shelves with potted plants and soil littering the ground. Maybe waiting to clean had been a mistake. “Everly, what happened?”
Belle slipped beneath the covers and placed her head on the other side of my pillow. I made room as Lacey slid in on the other side, and soon I was surrounded by sisterly love that was already beginning to make me feel better. I turned to face Lacey.
“Before you left for kindergarten yesterday, Belle said I might have a kid that she can play with,” I said. Lacey understood immediately but gestured behind me. I realized my mistake. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Belle,” I said quickly. “Your words just made me think a lot, okay? You didn’t say anything bad.”
“I’m sorry,” Belle still apologized, and I felt as if someone chipped my heart. I never once wanted Belle to blame herself. “I was just excited.”
“I know, sweetie. I just hadn’t thought of it before, until you mentioned it. And it made me think a lot,” I said.
“And then?” Lacey asked. I turned back toward her.
“Well, I went over to make dinner. Maddox’s friend came over with Abby, and she showed me a painting of me, Maddox, and her as a happy family. I was her mom in the picture, Lace. She couldn’t have made it any more obvious. What Belle said, and then the painting, it was just too much.” I covered my face with my hands and closed my eyes. “I couldn’t take it anymore; I just ran off.”
“Abby is just a child,” Lacey said. “She didn’t mean anything by that, you know? When Belle was her age, she was constantly asking about her father, and if she would ever have one. It’s just something kids of single parents do.”
“Even though they’ve only met the person a few times? I don’t know anything about Abby, and she doesn’t know anything about me, and already she wants me to fill in the most important role in her life. That can’t be normal,” I said. Lacey shook her head.
“All she knows is that she loves her dad, and her dad seems to really like you, so of course she’s going to love you,” Lacey said, and I frowned.
“Why are you defending the situation for Maddox?” I asked and then shook my head. “Never mind, I know why. You’ve always wanted me to change my mind and have kids so I would know what it was like for you.”
Lacey rolled her eyes. “Sure, it would be nice to have my own niece and someone to grow up with Belle, but Everly, really? I’m on your side, no matter what. But this is the first time I’ve ever seen you so distraught over something that can be fixed through honest communication. Not to mention, this is the first time I’ve ever seen you even interested in a man. For a while there, I wasn’t even sure if there would ever be a man in your life.”
I considered her words. “Really?”
“Yes, really. You’re acting like a damn teenager. And I know you’re afraid to do anything because of the shit luck our family has had with men, but you’re not doomed to follow our path, Everly. Not every relationship fails; some are meant to be. And the ones that are meant to be can seem harder than others, because they’re the most worth it.”
“Don’t be sad,” Belle said behind me. “You like him, and he likes you.”
I blinked away tears as Lacey and Belle left the bed. Their words meant more to me than they could imagine, but it didn’t make the situation better. I already knew all of that anyway, and it hadn’t helped me yet.
“I’ll make breakfast,” I said. I forced myself to my feet and headed into the kitchen to start some omelet muffins. I served them up shortly after, and we ate them while watching the news and list
ening to Belle’s current preschool project. I wondered if Abby was ever enrolled in any type of school and if Maddox had to put up with the same things. After another hour of idle chatter, we said our goodbyes and they left me alone again to drown myself in my sorrows.
I didn’t feel comfortable talking to Maddox just yet, and I was positive that the lack of communication was enough for me to lose my job. I had the rest of the day to do anything I wanted, maybe go job hunting again or call Phil. I picked up my phone with the intent to call Phil and was surprised when it began ringing in my hand.
Maddox’s name and number were on the screen, calling me. My thumb floated above the Answer button. Was he calling to apologize? Should I apologize? I wasn’t ready to hear his voice, so I hit Decline.
Still, I decided to maybe consider my options for the day, and call Phil tomorrow. For some reason, it didn’t seem right talking to him about another job before I had a chance, or the courage, to talk to Maddox.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Maddox
Three full days of zero contact with Everly, and I was going crazy. If she would just answer her phone, or send a simple text, I’d feel better. Maybe I just missed her voice, and her laugh.
The last three days of work had felt like three years. Jackie was up my ass constantly about the new dish, how they needed promotional pictures and an official name and ingredient list. I told her I was almost done with it and reminded her that I was her boss, not the other way around, but she had given me a pensive look and walked away. I apologized to her afterward for my words, saying that it was a bad week and that I appreciated everything she did for the restaurants. She said thanks, and reminded me to get the ingredient list to her by the end of the week. I had wanted to create the dish alongside Everly, but it didn’t seem as if that was going to happen anymore, and I ended up making the dish by myself. We were officially launching it later in the day, and I was sad that Everly wasn’t there to see it.
I wasn’t sure what was happening between us at all. She hadn’t cooked dinner for three nights, and it didn’t seem like she was going to visit Friday night, either. I wondered if she had taken up another job, and if she did, how much of a pay cut she had taken just to avoid seeing me. The notion of that really stung.
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