Sabra didn’t miss the way Bronwyn cut her eyes at Colson. To call her out on it would be petty and infantile. So, Sabra concentrated on Ava instead.
The child had to be no more than four or five but was the spitting image of Colson with a deeper natural tan. Without a doubt, Sabra would have been able to pick her out in a lineup. Just like her father, the child had a gorgeous head of hair. Neatly combed super thick, long plaits with the cutest bows crowned Ava’s little head in abundance. Sabra instantly knew that combing her hair wasn’t an easy task. It seemed Bronwyn had hair skills to get those parts so straight and the plaits so perfect and even.
After a moment of staring at Sabra without blinking, Ava made a decision only she knew the details to and gave a cheery, “Okay.” To her father, she said, “Did you like my jump? I can do it again.”
“I loved it. You’re getting so big. Stop growing, I don’t want my little girl to become a big girl so fast.”
Ava’s eyes lit up at her father’s approval. Sabra fought the urge to slink away from the family love fest. She’d done all that big talk earlier about being okay with the whole kid thing, but who was she kidding? There was no way she’d be able to step in and cultivate a relationship of any quality with his child in this crucial stage of life. The girl could jump as high as a basketball player and blow smoke.
That smoke—yes. What was it with that leap-flight thing with the smoke the little girl did? Sabra’s index of informed memories churned to come up with nothing. What the fuck? Sabra had more questions as she noticed significant doubts start to form in the pit of her stomach.
She was lost in thought as the conversation around her continued until she heard the little voice say her name.
“Miss Sabra—can you hear me?” Ava asked.
“Um—yeah—sorry my mind wandered there for a moment.”
“Uh, okay,” Ava said not clearly understanding what Sabra meant. “Do you want to see my treats I got with Aunt Bronnie at the mall?”
Bronwyn made a subtle nod of the head for her to say yes in time to rescue Sabra from saying the wrong thing.
“Why, yes, I’d love that, if your Papa is all right with it.”
She felt his chest rumble before the words came forth. “That sounds great. Ava, what do you want for dinner? I’ll get things ready while you show Ms. Sabra what your Aunt Bronnie spoiled you with today.”
Again, Sabra saw Bronwyn direct a gesture her way. By the grin of victory riding the woman’s face, Sabra realized it was a smirk meant for Colson as another one of their standoffs must be happening. And it seemed that Bronwyn had won again.
Back inside, Colson deposited Sabra onto a large chair in the conversation area of his open concept kitchen. She watched as Bronwyn and Ava brought in bag after bag of stuff from some of the chain stores found in malls. Sabra wanted to laugh as she caught Colson eye the growing mountain of bags and give Bronwyn a glare of disapproval.
Sabra could tell Bronwyn loved both of them. She especially loved spoiling Ava as the two began to unload the items onto the table in front of Sabra.
She almost laughed a few times as Ava and Bronwyn did a show with two new Barbie Dolls pretending to be them finding “all the deals” as Bronwyn had obviously taught Ava to say. Before long, the kitchen floor was littered with packaging, bags, and kiddie stuff. Sabra watched in rapt attention as Ava put on dress up plastic earrings, bracelets, and a charm necklace.
For a split second, Bronwyn reminded her of the pageant moms as she opened even more bags to give the child little plastic heels, a tiara, and fake feather boa. They took the cake when Bronwyn gave Ava a magic glitter wand and kiddie lip gloss.
The delicious smells of whatever Colson cooked couldn’t compete with the fashion show Ava put on traipsing about the kitchen in full-on kiddie diva style. Sabra had an idea.
“Hey Cole?” she asked, remembering proper protocol with other people’s children.
“Yes?” he said over the sound of sizzling food.
“Would it be all right if I show Ava some of the stuff I have in the guest house?”
He seemed to consider it as he flipped what looked like braised vegetables in a pan. “Yes, that should be all right tomorrow. I want you off your leg for the rest of the evening. Don’t want to undo our progress from today. You have to give your hamstring time to mend and rest?”
“Yes, sir,” Sabra said, mocking his doctor-y orders.
Ava laughed at her making fun of her father. Sabra gave her a wink, and the child came over to her.
“Miss Sabra, would you like some lip gloss?”
Sabra didn’t allow the sharing of lip gloss or other items that could transmit cold sores or the like, so she did her usual and said, “I’d love some. How about we put it on later, after dinner, yes?”
As expected, the little girl agreed and was back over to Bronwyn to rummage through even more bags. Sabra banked on the fact that children Ava’s age would forget about such things within the hour.
“Okay, Ava, time to put your dress up clothes and toys away and come eat.” Colson assembled food onto a little Bento box tray, adding little touches here and there to beautify his daughter’s meal.
Sabra watched as the little girl dutifully started taking off her play clothes and helped Bronwyn fold and organize them in piles. Ava appeared to be well behaved, mannered, and obedient. That was a major plus in Sabra’s book. Colson pulled a booster seat out of a closet, brought it and the child’s plate to the table where Sabra was propped up with her leg and started arranging it so Ava could sit next to her.
“Bronwyn are you staying for dinner?” he asked.
“Nope, we’re testing out a new Chef tonight. Gonna have to make it home soon to catch the food coming out hot.”
“Okay, thanks for helping out with Ava.” Colson bent down to kiss Bronwyn on the cheek as she prepared to leave.
Sabra watched how the family interacted like a fly on the wall. Each interaction materialized out of love. Watching those two, she began to understand the weird sibling dynamic they had going. Bronwyn was in her element when she was helping. Colson was in his when he was giving orders. The two clashed, but their bond worked.
Where would she fit into this mix?
The question threw Sabra off for a second. There was no guarantee she would be here past tomorrow. The little tryst from the shower earlier had been a passing thing. Colson’s life looked like forever commitment, and Sabra wasn’t sure she could do that.
Maybe, Bronwyn, had been right?
She shook the thought from her mind as that little girl voice repeated her name.
“Miss Sabra, do you like nuggets?” Ava asked holding up what looked like a dinosaur shaped piece of chicken.
“I sure do.”
“Do you—”
“Would you,” her father interrupted.
“Yes, Papa. Excuse me, Miss Sabra. Would you like a piece of nugget?”
“Oh, no, baby, you eat your food. Thank you so much. That is so sweet of you. I’ll wait until my meal is ready.”
Ava giggled as she placed the offered nugget back onto her plate.
“What’s so funny?” Sabra had to ask.
“You called me a baby.” More little girl giggles followed lightening Sabra’s mood from the dark path she’d been going down just minutes before. Ava said, “I’m not a baby. I’m five!”
“She knows you’re not a baby. Bria used the word ‘baby’ as a term of endearment, like when I call you princess,” Colson interjected.
“Oh, then that’s good.” Ava seemed to think about it for a moment and came to a conclusion. “I like her calling me baby.” To Sabra, she announced, “You can keep calling me baby, although I’m a big girl.”
“Well, all right then, baby girl,” Sabra said offering a huge smile with it.
Ava burst into another set of giggles as she repeated Sabra, “Baby girl!”
“Settle down, Ava, we’re about to eat,” her father said coming back to the ta
ble with two plates of steaming hot food.
Before Sabra sat a plate that might as well have been created in an upscale restaurant. Like Ava’s plate, it was styled into a beautiful presentation. There were the braised vegetables she’d seen Colson cooking. There was also some rosemary baked sweet potato wedges and a beautiful piece of salmon. Colson had even included a twist of lemon for the piece of fish on the side.
It wasn’t until Colson sat down on the other side of her that Sabra realized Ava hadn’t touched her food yet. Colson reached over the table to grab Ava’s hand and then hers as he asked, “Would you mind if Ava blesses the food and table?”
“Not at all,” Sabra mumbled too impressed to say anything otherwise.
Ava did a great job of saying a brief blessing that didn’t involve any deity but held a general request for overall being, proper digestion, and a boon for the hands that prepared the meal. More and more Sabra liked what she saw of how Colson raised his daughter.
The real test came when she took her first bite. Any fears she had of Colson not knowing how to season food the way she’d been brought up to expect went out the window as the salmon melted in her mouth with tenderness and exquisite flavor. She should have known it would be good based on the smell alone. Sabra was too done with him. Who knew the doctor could burn like this?
Sabra and Ava finished their meal with Colson saying he’d grab something later. Colson helped Ava out of her booster seat to take her things to her bedroom. Sabra watched the father-daughter interaction as the two made a few trips to the little girl’s bedroom in the opposite direction of the medical suite wing.
After the last trip, Colson allowed Ava to skip ahead. The little one came to stand in front of the freezer of the refrigerator and waited for her father. Colson came to stand behind her, opened the freezer drawer, and said, “You did a great job. Go ahead.”
Ava rummaged around until she found what she was looking for. Sabra peered over to see what the little girl had decided on. When Ava came back up from her treat expedition, she held two popsicles in her hands. Ava held them up before her father as if asking permission. He nodded, and the little girl ran over to Sabra and offered her one of the popsicles.
“Here, Miss Sabra. It’s a popsicle.” Ava waited for Sabra to take the offered treat before opening the paper packaging on hers in a demonstration. “You open it like this, see?” Ava licked the frozen treat and smiled at Sabra waiting for her to do the same.
Sabra obliged, liking the little girl more and more. Unlike most only children she encountered, Ava liked to share and thought of others. Ava was turning out to be a good kid.
Once Sabra took a lick of her popsicle, Ava jumped up and down. “It’s good, right, Miss Sabra?” Another lick of her own treat and Ava did a little happy dance. “These are my favorites. I love all the colors, but purple ones are my best ones.”
Sabra couldn’t contain the smile that flooded her face. “Yeah, I think I like them all too,” she said between a few licks.
Out the corner of her eye, Sabra noticed Colson cleaning the kitchen and snatching glances at them. He moved with that leonine grace she’d come to expect. She decided to entertain his daughter while he tidied up and continued to play the popsicle licking game Ava started.
Finished with the kitchen cleanup, Colson asked, “Bria, would you mind keeping an eye on Ava while I go and get your scooter from outside?”
“Her name is Miss Sabra. Why did you call her Bria, Papa?”
“Because she said I could call her that.”
“Well, I want to call her Bria too,” the child said, a demand in her tone.
Sabra stepped in. “I’d love it if you called me Bria. All my close loved ones call me Bria.”
“Ava, you may call her Ms. Bria,” her father warned.
“Yes, sir. I’m winning, Miss Bria,” Ava said taking another lick of her popsicle.
“That you are,” Sabra said and nodded as Colson left to retrieve her scooter. She said a little prayer that she hadn’t broken the machine with her crash.
“I won!” Ava shouted.
Sabra chomped down on the last little bit of popsicle she’d been nursing to let Ava win her little game and clapped. “Yay—Ava you beat me!”
The little girl came closer to stand close enough to brush against her. Ava sighed but smiled.
“I know you let me win,” the child confessed.
Sabra was taken aback by the child’s keen perception of what she’d done.
“It’s okay. I like that you wanted me to win. That’s part of why I like you too.”
“Oh yeah, what’s the other part?” Sabra found herself asking, curiosity too ripe to let it pass.
“That you like my Papa and he likes you. I like that. My Dragon said you’re my new Mommy too, so there’s that.”
Sabra almost fell out of her chair at the child’s bold words.
“What did you say?” she had to ask.
“Oh, maybe I wasn’t supposed to say that part. Miss Bria, I like you, and I know my Papa likes you. Do you like us?”
Wasn’t this about a bitch? Sabra couldn’t find an easy way out of this one. So, she deflected.
“How are you so sure your Papa likes me?”
“Because.”
“Because why?” Sabra pressed, needing to know how this little girl had come to that conclusion.
“Because his Dragon is happy. I haven’t ever seen my Papa’s Dragon that happy. My Dragon is happy too. You smell good,” the child said seemingly off the subject.
“Thank you,” Sabra offered. She tried to figure out what the kid meant and how to get more out of her before Colson came back. “What do you mean about your Dragons?”
“I know you don’t have one. Aunt Bronnie doesn’t either. That’s part of why I thought you were sisters. Everyone but Aunt Bronnie and now you have Dragons.”
“Are you talking about as pets?” Confusion rode Sabra’s questions.
“No, Miss Bria,” the child laughed. “I have a Dragon inside me, just like Papa and Uncle Mac. Mr. Danny has a wolf, but he acts like he has a Dragon, so we let him be a Dragon too.”
“I see.” Sabra’s mind did its best to configure explanations for what Ava might mean. She tried a new angle. “Do your Dragon’s fly?”
“Mine doesn’t yet. That’s what Uncle Mac is helping me to do. Papa can fly really high. He took me up there with him one time. He said when I get older, he’ll do it again. I love to fly. Do you like to fly, Miss Bria?”
Sabra had no words for this tale the little girl wove. Determined to keep Ava engaged and figure out what she really meant, Sabra continued to ask questions.
“Yes, I like to fly. Tell me, Ava, is your Papa’s Dragon an airplane?”
The little girl burst out laughing. “No, he’s not an airplane. He lets his Dragon come out and fly.
“Ava! What are you telling Ms. Bria?” Colson’s voice startled both Ava and Sabra.
“Miss Bria says she likes to fly too. I told her you said you’d take me flying when I get a little bigger. Will you show Miss Bria your Dragon?” Ava turned her attention back to Sabra and added, “I love my Papa’s Dragon. He’s so awesome. You have to see him!”
17
Bria
“Oh my God!”
Sabra kept her eyes fixed on the shrinking form. Above her flew a real-life Dragon. She’d agreed to watch the event believing the child to be caught up in the realm of make-belief. Sabra had encouraged Colson to oblige Ava’s repeated requests to play this game of make-believe the little girl was adamant existed.
Sabra’s mouth hung open as the man she’d known as Colson climbed higher and flew in circles above with his daughter cradled in his talons.
For the umpteenth time, she blinked and tried to refute what her eyes showed her. Colson Kelnar was a—Dragon! Resting her knee on the scooter, Sabra continued to track his flight pattern in the early night sky.
She could faintly make out Ava’s squeals of delig
ht every now and then when they made a loop close to where she was posted. Surreal was a weak word to describe this sight. Never would she have thought Dragons existed, let alone people who could turn into ones.
As she continued to watch the spectacle, Bronwyn’s words of warning replayed in her mind. Bronwyn’s over-the-top protectiveness made sense in an entirely new way. The woman held a secret no one could know outside of their family.
The weight of this secret Colson revealed to her sat heavy and unyielding as she wrapped her head around the phenomenon. Gusts of air pillows buffeted her as the Dragon she knew as Colson came in for a landing. His daughter giggled as the huge Dragon shifted her within his talons to protect her from the impact of his descent.
Sabra had to be openminded and flexible. If a five-year-old was able to handle her father being a mythical creature, so should Sabra.
That damned Tilar. She had to know. Tilar could see way more stuff than the average human. Another crucial part of her Tarot card reading involved a mythical creature. How stupid had Sabra been to think that was a figure of speech? She rushed through the analysis of what Tilar said to devote her attention to the miracle of nature before her.
The night air popped and sparkled with what had to be magic as the creature morphed into the man. Sabra found herself blinking to try to absorb the spectacle of how a beast of his massive proportions could compact back down into the male human form. The air played with itself as scales of varying degrees of slate to gun metal gray undulated and transformed into flesh and even the clothing Colson had been wearing.
Somewhere in the midst of this, until now, unlikely event, Colson had made sure to place Ava gently on the ground. She now sat in front of him clapping and cheering her father in squeals of childhood wonder and delight. Once he was back to his human self, Sabra watched as he scooped up his amped-up daughter and strode back to her.
Each step he took vibrated in her soul. Now that she knew his secret, what would she do about her feelings for him? Sabra tried to find a way to break her gaze away but couldn’t. His face held concern that bordered on worry the closer he got.
Dragon’s Curvy Patient Page 20