by Lynn, Sophia
He looked less surprised this time and nodded. "If it's all right with your mother."
"Good answer," Marnie said drily. "Go ahead and play, honey. I'm just going to go sit with Philip for a little while."
Philip looked a little torn as she ran on without a backwards glance. "How do you do it?" he asked quietly as they went to sit down with their juice.
"You're going to have to be a little more specific than that," she said wryly.
"How do you let her run off when she's got your heart in her hands?"
Marnie was prepared with a flippant remark, but the question caught her square in the chest. There was something there that was so similar to what she had gone through in those first early days that she impulsively reached over to touch Philip's hand.
"You have to," she said gazing out over the playground at her daughter.
As they both watched, Victoria ignored the other children to climb up to the top of the play tower, her eyes looking up at the perfect blue sky. She looked rapturous, entirely contained in her own world.
"When she was born, I couldn't stand to be apart from her. I did a lot of baby-wearing, where you sort of rig up a sling to carry your baby around, and for a while, the only time that I felt safe and sound was when I could feel her against me, hear her breathing and feel her heart beat."
"What changed?" asked Philip, his eyes still on Victoria.
Marnie laughed. "The fact that I had a life I wanted to live, and the fact that I realized that raising Victoria as a little clinging octopus was not good for both of us. The first time I let her run off to wander around the playground, I felt just as you do right now. My heart ran off without me. As a parent, you have to take a lot of things on faith. Terrible things could happen. Most of the time, happily enough, they don't. I imagine your childhood was a little different?"
Philip thought for a moment. "My parents were very busy," he said. "They carry a great deal of responsibility as the King and Queen of Navarra. I was largely raised by nannies, though of course I did get to know my parents as well. I remember not being alone very often, and how much I wanted to be sometimes."
Unexpectedly, Marnie found herself aching for Philip in a way that she had never expected. Their affair, no matter how passionate, had been so very short. They had never really gotten to know the details behind their lives; they were all too consumed with fun and the things they could make each other feel.
Now that she knew the man a little better, she could see the hurt boy that also lived inside him, and something about that spoke to her. It made her more cautiously open to sharing their daughter with him, with seeing what had become of Philip after a half-decade apart.
"The childhood that Victoria has is in no way conventional," Marnie said thoughtfully. "She's a writer's daughter. She gets stories with everything and thanks to all my friends, she gets lessons on just about everything that her little heart desires. You should hear her speak French. She might not be a princess, but she is happy."
"I can see that," Philip said softly. "But the thing is, she is also a princess."
Marnie tensed at the tone in his words, but he didn't press it. At the moment, he seemed content to watch his daughter who didn't even know that that was what she was. Finally, he turned to Marnie.
"Thank you for letting me have this," he said quietly. "I wanted to see her very much."
"And now that you have?" Marnie asked. Though she gave no sign, her heart was beating a little faster. It was possible that Philip would simply be happy seeing Victoria, and, conscience assuaged, would simply climb back onto his plane and wing off to Europe again. That would honestly be the safest and most predictable response. However, there was a part of her that wanted to cry for him to stay. She dismissed it as being the part of her that was still the young girl lovesick over him, but it was loud.
"I want to continue doing this," he said. "Christ, it sounds terrible because I've not been here for her entire life, but I do want to be a part of her life. I want to get to know her, and I know that the only way I will do that is with your permission. So, please … Marnie, can we do this?"
Marnie was torn. On one hand, she might have once loved this man, but she hadn't known him as well as she should have. His princely reveal taught her that. On the other hand, she wanted to see what would happen.
"What's your end game?" she asked, and when he looked baffled, she clarified. "What is your plan? If you just want to come by and play weekend fun time daddy before winging off back to Navarra and then not being heard from again in the next ten years, I'll say no thank you. Children need stability in their lives."
Philip was already shaking his head. "No, I understand that, and you're right, Victoria deserves better than that. I … if I'm going to be perfectly honest with you, I have responsibilities waiting for me back in Navarra. However, the moment that I saw Victoria, I knew that she was a responsibility as well, albeit one I was unaware of for half of a decade. I see her, and I want to do right by her. I'm not sure what that entails now, but I want to find out."
Marnie was quiet for a moment. She watched her daughter cautiously engage with another girl before breaking into a small cautious grin. The other girl, smaller, with two adorable natural puffs in her hair, grinned much more widely, grabbed Victoria's hand, and dragged her off to the tire swing.
"Good answer," she said finally. "All right. Neither of us know where this thing is going to go, but we want it to go at least for now. Sounds good to me."
"And what are we going to do about this?"
To Marnie's surprise, Philip lifted their hands, which had somehow become intertwined. She had touched his hand to comfort him, but they had started holding hands as if they had never stopped.
Marnie flushed slightly. She was suddenly aware of him in a way that she hadn't been a few moments before; aware of the warmth of his body and the way his black eyes watched her with an intense avidity.
"What … what do you mean?" she asked hesitantly.
Philip raised an eyebrow. "I think you know," he drawled. "Or were you not looking at me as if I were something particularly good to eat when we were at that poetry reading?"
She knew exactly what he was talking about, and if she was honest, she had no idea what to do with it. It would be better for Victoria, she thought, if she could keep her mind on an even keel, making decisions without the added stress of her attraction to Philip. On the other hand, she could feel that hunger that she had always had for him swirling around and rising up again.
"I was," she admitted. "I … I don't know what to do with it. We could ignore it, I guess …"
She made a small surprised noise as he shifted closer, his hand coming up to cup her face. For a split second, he rubbed the ball of his thumb over her smooth cheekbone before leaning in to kiss her.
The moment she felt his lips on hers, something in Marnie gave way. Ever since she saw him, she had been fighting her own instincts. She had been trying to stay levelheaded and aware of her surroundings, and she had been on the defensive. Now she knew why. It was because in all of the years they had been apart, she was no less vulnerable to him than she had been the first time that they had met.
She could feel the heat and need for him build up just as it had before, and Marnie realized that those feelings for him had never been resolved. In the tumult after he left and as Victoria was born, those feelings had simply been pushed away, and now they roared out, as powerful as ever.
She was completely lost to the kiss until his tongue brushed against her lower lip. Then, summoning strength that she didn't know that she had, she pulled away. She was distantly surprised to see that the day was still bright and that people were still walking and running through the park. When Philip had kissed her, it felt like he had changed everything.
"No," she said, and then when he looked as if he would argue, she held up her hand. "Not in front of Victoria," Marnie said clearly. "She understands a lot, but she also believes
that … that physical intimacy of that kind is something that you save for someone that you care about. Seeing us like that … I think it would just confuse her."
For a single solitary moment, Philip looked shocked and hurt. Then he shook it off to nod at her. "I would like to think that I do care about you," he said softly. "I have thought about you … so often since I was gone. During this last year, it feels as if I have thought about you every day. But you have not told me how you feel, and I understand …"
"I don't know how I feel," she blurted out, and Philip looked up at her in surprise. "I don't, really," she continued. "You have to understand, Philip. What went on between us changed my life. I remember you as this amazing interlude in my life that led to one of the most wonderful things in it. Without you, I would not have had Victoria, and sometimes I look at her and it feels like my heart will break because I love her so much.
"However … it means that I don't know how I feel about you, not really. Can you understand that? Do you think you can keep your distance, at least in front of Victoria, while we muddle forward?"
For a moment, it looked as if he wanted to argue with her. During their long separation, she had wondered if he thought about her. Now she knew that he had.
"I can agree to that," he said with a nod.
She was just getting ready to nod, even if there was a little disappointment there, when his hand tightened around her back, pulling her forward into a close embrace.
"She's not looking right now," Philip whispered softly.
Her soft cry was silenced as his mouth came down over hers, and instead of protesting, she found her hands coming up to grab him and bring him closer. Even if her mind wasn't sure what to think about him and his intentions, her body remembered him with a clarity that was almost shocking. She remembered how strong he was, and how powerfully he was built. She remembered the way his lips felt sliding over hers, and she remembered how good it felt to take his tongue into her mouth, suckling on it lightly.
They were in public, so it never went anywhere terribly intimate, but with that single kiss, he reminded her of why she had fallen for him the way that she had. He reminded her how good it had been between them and how they had lit each other on fire once upon a time.
Finally, she pushed him away, aware that her lips were red and her cheeks were flushed.
"Point made," she said, glancing around. No one seemed interested in them in the least, so she figured it was less graphic than it had felt for her.
"Are you truly all right with this?" Philip asked. "With me here with Victoria, with you?"
Marnie nodded immediately. "Believe me when I say that I don't really do maybes with Victoria. If something is making me think twice or worry about how it is going to affect her … I don't let it happen. I know you. I cared about you very much."
He tilted his head to one side. "Cared, past tense?"
She made herself nod. "I don't know you now, not really," she said, even though her body and her heart claimed that they knew him very well indeed. "I remember who you were. I look at you now, and I see a man who wants nothing but good for my daughter. That's what matters. For me now? Well, it's going to take some time."
Philip nodded, and it was just then that Victoria came up. She was a little dirty and a little grubby and entirely endearing as she held up her closed hands for Philip and Marnie to see.
"Look," she demanded. "Look at this!"
"The last time she did that, she was holding a stink bug," Marnie commented, but when they leaned down to see, Victoria opened her hands to reveal a golden beetle the size of a ladybug inside.
"Handsome bug," Philip commented, and Victoria flashed a small shy smile at him. She was more used to people shouting or telling her to throw away her insects, and Marnie could already feel her daughter warming to Philip.
"Can I keep him?" Victoria asked hopefully, and Marnie shook her head.
"No, he's going to be happier here where he can go where he likes," she said. "But how about if we find the best flower to leave him on before we go off to grab some food ourselves?"
Victoria brightened at that, and together, the three of them found a lovely pot of pansies where Victoria could leave her new friend.
They mutually decided that such a good day called for delicious burgers, and since there was an excellent burger place just a few blocks away, that it should be lunch time.
If Victoria wondered why Philip came to lunch with them and insisted on paying for all the food, she didn't say. She wasn't quite over her shyness with the man yet, but more than once, Marnie caught her looking at Philip with frank curiosity.
She wondered if her daughter sensed that there was something different about Philip. Marnie hadn't dated since she was born, but she had a few male friends and colleagues. With them, Victoria was polite but more reserved. Here, within a short time of meeting Philip, she was already less guarded, more lively and animated.
It doesn't mean anything, Marnie told herself. She's probably just picking up on how relaxed I am with him.
It was a good thought, but as they ate their burgers, Marnie couldn't help but notice that it was more than that. Victoria preferred sitting closer to her mother, but she reached out to share her fries with Philip, something that she only reserved for Marnie and Cassie. Seeing them together, it could not be denied that their dark eyes were nearly the same shade. Marnie wondered what other similarities they would uncover as they spent more time together.
After lunch, they came out onto the pavement to see one of the city's horse-drawn carriages discharge its passengers across the street. It only took a brief wistful look and sigh from Victoria before Philip was striding across the street, waving down the carriage.
Before Marnie quite knew what was happening, they were taking the carriage tour of the area, Philip on one side, Marnie on the other, and Victoria sandwiched between them and looking out over it all.
"I have to admit, this is nice," Marnie said. "I was born and raised here, and I never thought that anything so touristy could be a great idea …"
Philip winked at her. "Well, they do say to make the familiar strange and the strange familiar. All I know is that Victoria looked like she was curious. Back home, sometimes for the historical festivals, the noble ladies are carried on actual litters, on the shoulders of strong men."
"Litters?" asked Victoria in confusion. "Like garbage?"
Marnie then had to explain human-borne litters, and how some people were considered so important that they would be lifted up as high as possible by the people below.
"Does that sound like something that you might want to try?" teased Marnie. "Sure that the horse carriage isn't enough?"
Victoria gave the idea the serious thought it was due before shaking her head firmly. "I think I prefer the horse and carriage," she said firmly. "I like the horse a lot."
"Well, there you have it," said Marnie with a smile. "My daughter strikes a blow for equal rights for all people …"
Philip snorted. "She hasn't figured out how comfortable a litter is," he said loftily.
"Have you ever ridden in one?"
"No, just my mother, and for some reason, she won't give in and let it be the only way she travels …"
When the coachman came to let them down, he smiled broadly at them.
"Beautiful little family you have, sir," he said, and Marnie thought that Philip would deny it.
Instead, he shrugged with a slight smile. "They're both beautiful," he said.
He said it so softly that Marnie only barely managed to catch it. She could feel her face turn pink at his flattery. When they were together, he had called her pretty, he had certainly called her hot, but beautiful was one that she couldn't remember. She knew that she had changed, but apparently so had he.
"Mama, why is your face all red?" asked Victoria, her voice concerned, and Marnie turned so that Philip couldn't see how hot she was blushing.
"Just feeling a li
ttle warm, sweetie, I'm fine. Oh look, there's a candy making machine in that window, shall we go look?"
The day passed in a blur, but Marnie would always remember a few specific sensations, a few wonderful moments. There was the moment when Victoria solemnly explained photosynthesis to Philip, though he had to help her pronounce the word. There was the moment when Philip had snapped a picture of her and Victoria, hand in hand and petting a large dog. There was the look of surprise and peace in Philip's face when they heard a distant steel drum playing and Victoria started to dance to the bright rhythm.
Finally, though, the day had to end. Victoria was tired and starting to get grumpy, so when they got home, Marnie sent her to get her things together for her bath.
"We both bathe, and then we hang out for the rest of the evening in our pajamas," Marnie explained. "We do it as often as we can, it makes getting to bed a lot easier."
They could both hear the water running and then there was Victoria yelling about how she was getting in to get clean now.
Marnie hadn't realized how much Victoria had taken up space that day. Now that she was gone, it felt as if there was too much air in the room. Now there was just her and Philip.
"It was an amazing day," Philip said softly, his hands in his pockets. For some reason, that comforted her. If his hands were in his pockets, they couldn't reach for her, couldn't draw her close. She wasn't sure what she would do if he did.
"It was a really good day," Marnie said. "I hope you don't get the wrong idea. Not every day is as good at that. There are plenty of times when she's crabby or I am. There are days where she loses her temper and has to be in a time-out or when one or the both of us are sick …"
Philip laughed a little. "I may be a prince, but I do know a little bit about real life," he said with a grin. "I know that not every day was good, but today … well, something about today was perfect."
When she thought about it, he was right. It wasn't a day without mishap, but it was three people being together, sharing, and taking care of each other. When it came right down to it, it was perfect, in its own way.