“Please.” Evie’s lips pressed into a firm line, which she only ever did when she was trying to suppress strong emotion. She slid into her jacket and tugged on my hand.
“Wait. I have questions.”
“Kai. Not now,” Evie whispered. She pulled harder and I followed her down the hall back toward the entrance. I looked back and Sue still stood in her doorway, her arms wrapped around her waist, holding her smart, hot-pink blazer close to her body.
Evie pulled me through the door and out into the cool drizzle. She turned her face up to the mist, letting it wash over her cheeks. With a long sigh, she dropped my hand as she strode down the sidewalk. This was her distance-eating walk, the one that meant she wanted to put as much space between herself and whatever was bothering her as possible.
“What the hell was that?” I trailed behind like a well-trained puppy.
“Nothing.”
“Don’t fuck with me, Evie. That was something. I want to know what Sue said that upset you so much.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Evangeline.”
She stopped walking and turned back toward me. Her hair glistened with tiny dots of water, giving her a halo. My angelic wife. I sucked in a breath. Responsibility pressed against my shoulders. A wife and maybe, if Evie would talk to me, I’d find out when I’d have a daughter. A five-year-old sprite with the biggest brown eyes in the world.
Two months ago, I hadn’t known either Evie or Paige. Two months ago, I’d been mired in a pit of despair trying desperately to make sense of Marcus’s death and Jenna’s continued silence. Now, I was a family man, almost a homeowner. I’d made some crazy decisions in my life, but these—with Evie and Paige—were mature, responsible. Right.
“She needed some reassurances, Kai. I gave her what she wanted. Everything should be smooth now.”
“Why can’t you look at me when you say that?” Agitation lit in my gut, making my voice sharper than I wanted.
“You want to do this on the street? Where a reporter might be listening?” Evie kept her voice low, confidential. “Because you know they’re following us now that they found out you married me.”
“I hate when you do that.”
“Now you’re being petulant.” Evie stepped in and flicked my lower lip.
“Because you’re keeping something from me.”
Evie shrugged, but her eyes were clouded. What could Sue have said to worry her so?
“Paige’s counseling session will be over in about fifteen minutes. Want to get a cup of coffee before you have to go to practice?”
“No.”
“Kai.”
“Evangeline.” I mimicked, down to putting my hands on my hips. “I want to talk about Sue upsetting you.” I stepped closer and rubbed my thumbs over her cold cheeks.
“She didn’t.”
“Liar.”
She rolled her eyes. “You have practice. I’ll meet you back at my place later. Once I pick up Paige. What do you want for dinner?”
Right. It was Evie’s day to make the meals. We’d split it, along with other household chores like laundry and vacuuming. Evie, being Evie, made a chart with all three of our names on it and what day we were supposed to do what. Paige wasn’t on board yet with picking up her clothes or toys, but she did like feeling like she was part of a family.
Warmth built in my chest, pushing out the irritation. My mom never cooked for my brother and me. Until I met Abbi, I hadn’t eaten anything that didn’t come from a restaurant, a box, or a can. I loved that Evie cared enough to make me homecooked meals.
“Whatever you feel like making.”
“Chicken it is,” Evie sighed. “I don’t know how to cook much else except breakfast stuff. Marilyn and Abbi are going to give me lessons.”
I patted my stomach. “I’ll appreciate those.”
She smiled. “I bet you will.” She stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to my lips. “I’ll see you later.”
I wrapped my arm around her slender waist. “Bet on it, angel.” I kissed her again. Longer so that she knew what I was promising for later. “Tell Paige I’ll read her a book and tuck her in.”
“’Kay.”
I kissed her rosy lips one more time, unable to resist their luscious perfection. “I’ll tuck you in, too.”
“Ooh, I like the way you tuck me in,” she said, eyes guileless and her smile bright enough to light me up, too.
I winked. “It’s a date.”
I turned away, smiling as Evie’s laugh filled my ears.
17
Evie
Kai disappeared into the sea of early evening commuters. My shoulders slumped forward as I turned back toward the building housing the child protective services department. Sue’s questions swirled through my head, a never-ending litany of all the reasons Kai wouldn’t make a good husband or father.
Nothing like having to confirm I was capable of supporting myself with my degree to get custody of a child. Panic welled up. I didn’t have a job lined up nor was I staying up-to-date with my research.
But . . . I’d married Kai. We were a team, though Sue, who’d known Kai’s family for over twenty years, didn’t think he had the staying power to be around in six months, let alone six years.
“What are you going to do if he doesn’t come home for months on end? It’s going to be single-parenting, Evie. You have to understand that the onus of responsibility falls to you.”
“Kai’s as dedicated to Paige’s future as I am.” I’d resisted the urge, barely, to cross my arms over my chest. Instead, I gripped the edge of the chair, trying to keep my voice even and to seem open as opposed to defensive.
“Until he goes on tour in a couple more months. And how long will he be able to resist the girls who throw themselves at him? How will you feel when you can’t separate yourself from him permanently because of the child you adopted together?”
“That’s really between Kai and me,” I said.
“It is,” Sue said. She took off her glasses and dropped them on to her desk, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Marilyn and I talked about it. Kai’s a good boy, Evie. His heart’s in the right place. But he hasn’t dealt with his brother’s suicide, and Marilyn and I think you both would have done well to consider in more detail. Raising a child—especially one who’s struggling with as much as Paige—isn’t going to be easy for anyone. Especially a young couple who’s never been responsible for more than making sure they’re passing courses and paying the electric bill.”
“So you’re saying we’re not mature enough to make the decision to raise a child together?” This time, I didn’t keep the anger from my voice. Who the hell did Sue think she was?
“No. I think I screwed up, and in the long run, it’s you who’ll pay the consequences for that. Paige is happiest with you and Kai. She loves you both, but you’re going to be the disciplinarian, the day-to-day caregiver, the schlepper. You’re twenty-six years old, Evie. You should be out doing fun things with your friends. Marilyn said you wanted a tenure track professorship. If that’s the case, then you should be building your research career, not thrust into the role of selfless martyr who’s been put in an untenable situation by a good-looking boy and a needy little girl.”
I stood, my legs unsteady. “I have to finish my PhD. to attract a tenure-track professorship, and Kai’s giving me the time to do that. He’s not selfish, and I resent the implication in your statement that I can’t think for myself. Your concerns have been duly noted. Yes, I’m employable. I’ve had two out-of-state offers I turned down so that I could be here for Paige.”
Sue stood also, looking dejected. “I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just . . . I’m concerned.”
“I’m not your concern.” I blew out the rest of my angry retort. “Save it for the kids who come from miserable homes. Kai”—I emphasized his name—“and I have this. Paige wants to live with us. She understands what adoption means and we can provide a nice life for her, together. But if”—I raised my hands and sprea
d them out—“something happened to my marriage, yes, I can afford to raise a child. All by myself.”
“What if Kai tries to take custody because you call it quits?”
“Then that’s something he and I will work out together. Just like all couples do.”
I turned on my heel and walked to the door. Taking a deep breath to settle my nerves, I opened it, unsurprised to see Kai spring to his feet. The look of worry on his face was a balm, soothing my anger.
Putting distance between Sue and me—and Sue and Kai—had seemed the best course of action. I settled into one of the chairs in the therapist’s waiting room and pulled up my e-mail. My breath caught in my throat as my eyes skimmed over the first line of the top message.
A job offer. From the laboratory in D.C. The one Dr. Trenton said would be a great fit for me, allowing me to continue my research. I’d spoken to the director there, but that was before my dissertation defense. Now, a month later, here was an offer. A good offer.
I read the message twice, my eyes rounding more with each pass of the words.
My finger hesitated over the respond icon. As Kai’s wife, I should discuss something as important as employment with him. Sue’s voice filled me head. What if he tries to take custody because you call it quits?
He wouldn’t. But . . .I shouldn’t make it easy for him either. I nibbled on my thumb, considering my options.
Accepting the offer was smart, even if it was cross-country. This was the exact position I’d dreamed of getting—it would allow me to further my work with various pharmaceuticals, helping patients and doctors make better decisions for end-of-life care, but also for injuries like my mother’s.
Kai was part of a band. Sure, it was popular and he’d need to tour, but, technically, Kai could live anywhere. I’d be protected financially if I accepted the position, and so would Paige—the reassurance I’d given Sue wouldn’t be empty. No matter what happened between Kai and me, which Sue seemed to think was an inevitable crash and burn, I’d have the means to raise Paige—I wouldn’t turn into my mother.
I chewed on my thumbnail as I let the various scenarios ripple through my mind. Clay and Dane were staying here, in Seattle. Practice would need to be here, in Seattle. I reread the message again, my mind spinning in too many directions to pinpoint any one thought. I remained unsure how to proceed.
Turning the position down outright wasn’t smart. Even with my projected graduation date uncertain, there was no way I could simply reject the position. I’m very interested in the position, but I’d like to have some time to set up the move in a way that’s most conducive to my family, I wrote. I considered my options further, trying to see a way past the inevitable difficulties of Kai wanting to stay in Seattle and me needing to be in a lab in Washington, D.C. I asked if there was a way to telecommute for the first few months of the position, my heart sinking with each word I typed. The director had to find my requests irritating at best.
Nothing, and I mean nothing, was simple about my relationship with Kai. If I was sure what he felt for me, if I was secure in our relationship, I’d be able to ask him about options. Instead, I worried about maintaining full partner-hood in a relationship I didn’t completely understand.
Blowing out a breath, I pressed Send and tucked my phone back in my purse. Picking up a magazine, I stared at the images on the pages, not really seeing anything, all while Sue’s worries and my guilt at not talking to Kai about the offer gnawed a hole in me. This was my career. Kai wanted me to be happy, and he knew I planned to work.
Paige bounded out of the door and I smiled, dropping the magazine back onto the table. Opening my arms, I caught her just as she hurtled into me. My almost-daughter. If I’d had Paige naturally, I’d have been even younger than my mother.
But Paige wasn’t my natural daughter, and I was a mother by choice. I’d completed the coursework for my PhD. I had a husband who couldn’t keep his hands off me, a soon-to-be new home, a decent car, a sizeable chunk of cash in my bank account, thanks to the accident settlement, and the possibility of a great job. I wasn’t my mother. I’d made my own choices and set myself up to succeed.
The fact that I’d ended up with a child was ironic, sure. But Kai would help me prove all our detractors wrong. He’d help me show just how ridiculous everyone’s fears were.
I snuggled my little girl tighter into my lap. We would. We were a team.
I envied Paige her tears the morning Kai had to leave. We had less than three months together. Kai graduated, and we took cute selfies with our almost-daughter. Kai left on his cap and gown after the ceremony because Paige kept giggling, telling him he looked like “Dumbly-dore” from “Parry Plotter.”
Now, after just twenty-seven days together in our new house, Kai was already packed up to leave for more than twice that amount of time.
We’d bought a house in the neighborhood Kai wanted—well, Kai bought a house with Kai’s inheritance from his dad’s family and his music money.
“What do you think?” he’d asked, excitement radiating from him as we stood in the backyard.
Kai loved the house and Paige hadn’t wanted to leave the already-painted-pink bedroom. Now, she was running big laps around the fenced yard, and another child, not much older than her, called to her from the yard to the right.
I wanted to love the house—fine, I did love the house. Who wouldn’t drool over the huge chef’s kitchen or the garden tub and large walk-in closet? Most important, I wanted Kai to be happy. From what little I’d gleaned about his home life, Kai hadn’t had a great one. So if this house, no matter that the price seemed steep, made him happy, I was all for it.
“I love that you love it,” I said. “And I’ll get to cook in that kitchen.”
Kai took my hand, wrapping his fingers around mine and squeezed. That moment was as perfect as the sun shining from the clear, blue sky.
We’d moved in with little fanfare—neither of us had accumulated many belongings up to this point—and I’d done everything I could to make this time together as fun and perfect as I could. I was tired and completely freaked that Kai wouldn’t come back.
My gaze drifted back to the large, gray duffel on the floor next to the front door. Kai’s favorite bass leaned against the wall. He was in his office/music room collecting another of his instruments to take with him.
“I don’t want Daddy to leave,” Paige said.
Her lower lip jutting out even farther.
She dipped her spoon in and out of her oatmeal but made no move to eat the congealing gruel. Because the mere thought of oatmeal made me gag, I wasn’t going to push her to eat the stuff. In fact, I was hoping her love of the glop was a phase. Pancakes? Toast? Even a granola bar would be better than . . . that stuff.
“I don’t either,” I said. “But this is his job. And we have to support him. He gets to do something he loves.”
Paige dropped her spoon onto the bar. “He should love us more.”
I’d taken a sip from my coffee. With much focus, I was able to swallow the gulp. I set the mug on the counter. “I’m sure he does.”
“Then he should stay!”
“He’ll be back, Paige. Lots of daddies have to travel for work.”
“I don’t want my daddy to.” Her lower lip was thrust out in an award-winning pout. I bit back a smile. “My other daddy traveled.”
“He did?”
She rarely brought up her birth parents. Her counselor suggested Kai and I encourage Paige when and if she wanted to discuss them, and I’d agreed Paige was old enough to understand we were her forever family—a family of choice—and I’d explained when we started the adoption process that I didn’t want to take the place of her birth parents. Still, I’d been surprised by how readily Paige slid into the role of my child and her desire to call us mommy and daddy.
“He was gone lots of the time. My mommy hated it. Are you going to hate Daddy and be mad, too?”
I set my mug on the counter and moved closer until I smoothed
her little hand in mine. “Paige, look at me.”
She shook her head.
“You have every right to feel scared. Is that how you feel?”
She shrugged.
“Will you tell me how you feel? That way we can work through your feelings.”
Again, she shook her head.
“Want to draw a picture?”
Another quick negation.
I sighed as I considered my next round of options. Paige wasn’t willing to help me help her in her current mood. Maybe logic would benefit the situation.
“Kai . . . Daddy, he’s going to come back. Soon. And I won’t be mad at you because he’s traveling.”
She picked up her bowl of oatmeal and threw it across the kitchen. “What if he doesn’t?” she screamed. “Daddies don’t always come home. You-you don’t love him or me if you’re happy he’s leaving!”
Holy shit. Paige’s cheeks were flushed, her mouth set in a firm, angry line. Oatmeal, the nasty stuff, dripped from the freshly painted kitchen wall.
“What’s the ruckus?” Kai glanced from Paige’s stormy expression to my shocked one. Finally, he noticed her breakfast on the far wall, the plastic bowl still spinning like a top across the tiles. “Did you do that?” He pointed to the far wall before crossing his arms over his chest.
Paige’s glare was mutinous, and she refused to answer.
“Did you throw your oatmeal across the kitchen?” Kai asked again, his voice hard.
“You’re leaving me!” Paige shrieked.
It was that high-pitched, out-of-control sound I’d learned right away meant lots of problems. Instead of throwing the tantrum I expected, Paige burst into tears and ran from the room. The door to her room slammed shut.
“Wow,” I whispered. “That was . . .”
“Intense?” Kai walked over and used the bowl to scoop up the glop from the floor. He tossed the mess in the trash before wiping the wall with a damp paper towel. “You think you’ll be okay here when I leave?”
“Of course,” I said. But the response was instinctive, and after that outburst, no, I wasn’t sure I was capable of handling the anger that simmered in our little girl.
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