by Louise Bay
I took a deep breath and opened the door.
“Hello,” a very glamourous, blonde woman said. “You must be the nanny.”
Irritation crawled up my skin. Yes, I’m the woman who spends all day with your daughter. I’m the one she kisses goodnight and hugs when she’s fallen over. I’m the one who’s here every day. Who the hell are you? But I didn’t say any of that. I just smiled and gestured that she and the woman behind her should come in.
“Who’s the guy outside?” she asked me, nodding toward the security guard on the door.
I just shrugged. I wasn’t about to get dragged into anything. “Bethany, this is Penelope,” I said pointing at her mother. “And this lady is . . .”
“Jade,” the psychologist said.
Bethany waved and said hi without even looking up. Penelope tried to catch her eye but Bethany was too caught up in Bear Bear’s injuries.
“They’ve come to visit,” I explained. Gabriel had been clear that no one was to refer to Penelope as Bethany’s mother. He thought it would be far too confusing for Bethany.
“Please have a seat,” I said. This might not be my house to invite people to sit down in, but it sure as hell wasn’t Penelope’s either. “Can I get either of you something to drink?”
Penelope shook her head, her eyes fixed on Bethany. It struck me like a blow to the head: Penelope was Bethany’s doppelganger. They looked exactly alike. The long blonde hair. The bright blue eyes.
They were both beautiful.
Penelope sat on the floor next to Bear Bear and tapped his nose. “Hi, Bear Bear.”
She knew him. Of course she did. There was history here that couldn’t be erased.
“He’s hurt his leg,” Bethany explained. “I’m making him better with ban-ges.”
“That’s kind,” Penelope said carefully. “How did he hurt it?”
“He fell,” Bethany said.
I sat the other side of Bethany, making sure I was in touching distance.
“Autumn,” Bethany said, tugging at the elastic fastener that fixed the end of the bandage. “Please, may you help?”
“I can help you,” Penelope said with a glance to me, checking it was okay.
It was no big deal, right? She was just helping Bethany fix a bandage on her bear. Something I would have done if she hadn’t been here.
Penelope took the small section of elastic with the metal ends and placed it on Bear Bear’s leg, holding the bandage in place.
“Thank you,” Bethany said and looked up at Penelope. “Are you Autumn’s friend?”
Penelope glanced at me again as if I had the answer to that question. “I’d like to be your friend,” she said.
I had to give it to her, it was the perfect answer. For now. First, she wanted to be Bethany’s friend and then she’d want to be her mother. I wanted to ask her questions. Did she regret leaving? Did she know how much she’d missed? Even in the short time I’d been Bethany’s nanny, there’d been so many changes. The questions she asked, the different toys she played with, her bravery on the monkey bars at the park. Everything was different. But Penelope left Bethany before she could walk. Before she could talk or blow a kiss. She’d never get any of that back.
It wasn’t anger for Bethany that I felt. She had a father who loved her, and Gabriel’s inner circle had adored Bethany since the day she was born. Instead, pure sadness rushed through my heart like a swollen river after rainfall. I was sad Penelope had missed so much of Bethany’s life. She had to live with that decision forever—had to come to terms with the fact that she’d never know her daughter in the way a parent should.
“He’s going to sleep now. That way he’ll get better,” Bethany announced as she stood and pulled a cushion from the couch. “Please get a blanket from over there,” she asked Penelope. Bethany wasn’t a shy child, but she was very accepting of Penelope and I wondered if there was a bond between them from before. Maybe Bethany saw herself when she looked at Penelope. Maybe it was a pheromone Penelope gave off, or just something Bethany found familiar about her. Whatever it was, Bethany was comfortable with Penelope.
And that was good, wasn’t it?
I wasn’t sure Gabriel would think so.
Penelope and Bethany played for the rest of the hour as if they were old friends. I didn’t interfere. Jade didn’t say anything, other than to ask me a couple of questions about how long I’d worked for Gabriel.
“I think our time is up,” Jade said as she stood.
A sheet of disappointment crossed Penelope’s face, but she kissed Bear Bear on his hurt leg and stood. “Get better, Bear Bear.”
“He’ll be okay,” Bethany said, reassuring Penelope. God, that kid made my heart melt.
“Thank you for playing with me, Bethany,” Penelope said.
“We’ve got lunch to make,” I said, hoping Bethany wouldn’t think it was weird that these two women had turned up, played with her, and then left.
“Can I have happy cow cheese?” she asked, referring to her favorite snack and completely unfazed by the two women leaving. She was oblivious to the tears I could see Penelope holding back.
“We can make that happen,” I said. “Let’s say goodbye to Penelope and Jade.”
We moved out into the hallway and opened the door, Bethany clutching a bandaged Bear Bear. “Bye-bye,” Bethany said, moving her bear’s arm so he was waving.
“Bye-bye, Bear Bear. Bye-bye, Bethany,” Jade said.
“Bye-bye—” Penelope’s voice cracked, and she covered her mouth with her hand. Jade guided her out and I shut the door.
“Cheese, please, Louise,” Bethany sang.
I smiled as she slipped her hand into mine and half skipped, half hopped as we headed to the kitchen. “What about an omelet with a triangle of happy cow on the side?”
“Yum,” she said.
The most important thing in all of this was that Bethany was happy. Despite my concerns, seeing Penelope hadn’t upset her. Penelope hadn’t pushed too hard, hadn’t broken any of the agreed-upon rules. It had been a good reintroduction for both of them. It would be the start of a road back to a relationship. When Bethany was older, she’d barely remember her mother ever not being in her life. Gabriel might not want to admit it to himself, but Penelope being back was almost certainly what was best for Bethany. I just couldn’t figure out where that left me.
Twenty-Nine
Gabriel
After the rough morning, I’d needed the afternoon with my daughter. And the night with Autumn. I slid my arms around her waist as she stood at the kitchen island.
There had been no point being at work. I’d done nothing productive in the office. I’d just watched the clock until it hit midday. After I texted Autumn to make sure Penelope had left on time, I’d raced back home.
The three of us played tea party, painted pictures of rainbows, and plaited Autumn’s hair. And I’d done my best not to think about how Penelope had been in the house just hours before.
“She’s zonked,” I said, and kissed Autumn’s neck.
“It’s been a big day,” Autumn replied.
I knew I should ask how it went but I wanted to forget about it. To pretend it hadn’t happened.
“I think it went well,” Autumn said as she turned in my arms. “Penelope was very respectful. And Bethany didn’t question anything. Just one time she asked Penelope if she was my friend, and Penelope just said she’d like to be Bethany’s friend.”
I wasn’t sure if Autumn was telling me this because she thought I’d want to know or if she thought she should. But I didn’t want to hear it.
“Bethany’s fine. That’s all I need to know,” I said as I bent to place a kiss on her neck. She smelled like almonds and rainfall and I wanted to dive into her scent and lie in it for a while.
“Yes, I think it was good. When’s the next visit?” she asked.
I groaned. “I don’t know. Do we have to talk about this?”
“But you must be pleased it went well?�
� she asked, and I stepped back, dropping my arms to my sides and heading to the fridge to get a beer.
“Like I said, as long as Bethany’s okay. I wish it didn’t have to happen at all.” I twisted the lid off my beer and took a swig.
“But she’s her mother. And in a few years, Bethany won’t even remember that she left.”
She was so naïve. “In a few years, Penelope will be long gone. Believe me, Autumn.”
I glanced at Autumn, who was frowning at me, confused. “You think she’ll leave again? What makes you say that?”
“She did it once. It’s bound to happen again.” I’d seen it a thousand times with my father. If they left once, they’d keep on leaving. It was how people were made. I’d been broken when she left. Devastated for me and for Bethany. But I’d built myself back, piece by piece. I was happy now. Why couldn’t she have just stayed away? Bethany didn’t need her. I certainly didn’t. Our meeting that Penelope had insisted on had been ludicrous. Why would she think I would be prepared to take her back? After all these years, she really thought I was the desperate fool who would just fall to my knees in relief and beg her to come back into our lives.
She was delusional. I wanted nothing to do with her and I never would. If I didn’t think it would hurt Bethany, I would have fought her every step on custody. I’d prefer her to slink off back to wherever she’d gone and never come back.
“But she’s older now,” Autumn said. “She said she felt too young.” Autumn followed me over to the sofa. “Presumably if she’s back, she’s over that now.”
I wanted to get naked. Have incredible sex. Sleep. In that order, preferably. But Autumn was like a dog with a bone. “Don’t be naïve. She’ll be off again next time she’s bored and if she’s bonded with Bethany, I’ll be left to pick up the pieces. Again.” Bethany hadn’t noticed when her mother left the first time. She’d been too young but this time she could cause real damage. “She should understand the potential to cause harm at this age. She’s just being selfish.” I’d have to limit the amount of time Bethany saw Penelope over the next few months, until she left again. That way I could minimize the damage.
“You don’t think she’ll stick around? Maybe she’s changed.”
I rolled my eyes. “People don’t change. I’m just entering some kind of cycle where I have to protect Bethany as best as I can and prepare her for when Penelope takes off again.”
Autumn tucked her knees under her chin as we sat together in silence. “How can you be so certain? I know she left before, but people make mistakes.”
“And are destined to repeat them,” I replied. It was nice that Autumn saw the best in people, but she was being ridiculously naïve. She’d not experienced the reality of the world which presented the evidence very clearly: people didn’t change and second chances were always wasted. “I’ve seen it all before.” I tipped my head back on the sofa. I’d lived this cycle once already.
“I thought she just left once? Did she walk out before?”
“Not her,” I said, remembering the arguments. The flowers. The door banging. The late-night pounding on the doors.
Autumn slid her hand into mine and squeezed. I was taking my bad mood out on her. It wasn’t her fault. She didn’t know people like I did.
“My father cheated on my mother. A lot. She’d make him leave and then he’d come back. Say he’d ended it. Apologize. Assure her that it would never happen again. She’d take him back. Then a few months later the cycle would start all over again. Each time he convinced her that he’d changed, that he deserved a second chance. But he was always the same weak, pathetic liar. And she always fell for it.”
I wouldn’t make the same mistake. My mother had been frightened to divorce my father. She hadn’t wanted the social stigma, the money worries, the loneliness. But she’d paid a very high price for staying married. And as her son, so had I.
I wouldn’t put Bethany through that. I wouldn’t put myself through that. Not again.
“Did Penelope leave for someone else?” Autumn asked. “Was she cheating?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care.” It didn’t matter why she’d left. I’d heard every excuse under the sun for letting your family down. Not a one of them was excuse enough.
“But if the problem wasn’t cheating, then maybe she just had a hump to get over and now she’s over it and ready to be a mother and a wife?”
It sounded like Autumn wanted me to take Penelope back, wanted me to give her a second chance. It was the last thing I wanted to hear. Especially from Autumn, who I cared deeply about, who I raced home from work to see, who I’d just begun to see a future with.
“I should go into the workshop,” I said, standing. I needed some space and I wanted to get away from this conversation. I’d said all I had to say about Penelope. There was no need to rehash it. “I’ve bought an old desk that I’m going to polish up and put in the bedroom next to yours. I’m going to work from home more. That way I can be home for bedtime more often.”
Autumn stood and smoothed her hand over my cheek. “You’re a great father. A good man.” And she shrugged. “And hot as hell. You need an apprentice to help buff your wood?”
I chuckled at her ridiculousness. I wanted to be angry and sullen about my situation, but Autumn made it impossible. But she couldn’t shine her light and make everything perfect. She needed to see there was no future where Penelope was part of my life. I’d gotten over her leaving and I wasn’t going to step back onto that roller coaster again.
Thirty
Autumn
I was officially pissed off on my sister’s behalf.
“Are you mad at him?” I asked her as we stood in front of the store that had fresh pink and blue flowers draped around the storefront like some kind of magical fairyland. Hollie had called me this morning and begged me to come to the florist with her. Dexter had had some kind of issue with a client not being happy with her ginormous diamond and had to go sort it out, and Hollie didn’t want to choose their wedding flowers by herself.
“He was really upset that he couldn’t be here. We tried to rearrange but this woman is booked up for like, five years and a day. I’m sorry I had to drag you here.”
“It’s fine,” I said.
“I thought you might be busy with Gabriel,” she said, stepping forward to smell one of the hanging lilacs that drooped over the door.
“We didn’t have particular plans. And I always like hanging out with you. I’m just a little concerned with Dexter’s lack of participation in your wedding. I mean, I know he offered to take your name and everything, but it feels a little sexist.”
“It looks that way. But there’s so much to do and I think he’s actually done more than me. The guest list, the invitations, the seating plan. All Dex. He’s not intentionally missing meetings.”
I supposed I didn’t know what went into planning a wedding, but if Hollie thought it was okay then I supposed it was. She was usually right.
She peered into the window and rang the pink old-fashioned bell that sat on the pink doorframe.
“Who has a doorbell on a store? Aren’t they supposed to be encouraging people to go inside?”
“People don’t need encouragement. This flower store is so sought after it’s like an urban myth. Dexter had to get one of his clients to pull in a favor to get us an appointment here.”
Rich people were crazy. Roses were roses. What could be so special about the ones here?
A small lady with a short blonde bob appeared at the door, peering over her old-fashioned semi-circle glasses perched on the end of her nose like I’d only ever seen in the books I read to Bethany.
“Welcome to our world,” she said in a hushed voice. “Come through.”
Inside was like a fairytale come to life. I wished Bethany was here. She would have loved it. There were different types of flowers everywhere I looked. Some falling from the ceiling, some hanging from the walls, covering tables and desks. I could see nothing but petals and col
or wherever I looked. Even the floor was completely covered, other than a path that wound around to a door leading to a room in the back. It was like some kind of Disney experience, only better because the scent of every flower in the world surrounded us.
“This is amazing,” Hollie said.
“A floral experience,” the lady said. “That’s what we aim to create.”
Could I move in? “It’s beautiful,” I said, turning a full three hundred and sixty degrees to make sure I hadn’t missed anything. I pulled out my phone so I could grab a picture.
“Sorry, no photographs please.” She gave no explanations and I put my phone back in my bag. “Come through and we can discuss the experience we will create for you.”
The next hour was surreal. I saw examples of every type of flower I’d ever imagined. I could tell Hollie was getting overwhelmed because she clearly loved it, but she was also trying to keep the wedding simple.
“Why don’t you focus on the tables and go from there,” I suggested. “I like these, where the flowers are high and trickle down to the tabletop.” I pointed to one of the table displays in front of us.
Hollie nodded. “I do like the orchid combined with the lily of the valley. But then I really like the roses and the wisteria as well. What do you think?” she asked the self-styled floral designer.
“I think,” she replied in hushed tones, “that you need to just be in the flowers. And the decision will come to you. I will leave you and return and you will have the answer.”
“Did we just land in California?” I whispered once the woman had left.
“I just have to be in the flowers. So . . . let’s sit.” We took a seat on the tiny silk sofa, the only surface not covered in flowers.
“You think we should close our eyes?” I asked.
“No, I think you should tell me how the visit with Penelope went.”
I groaned but gave her the highlights. “I’ve never seen Gabriel like this. He’s adamant that she’s going to leave again and furious that this time, Bethany will know more and be disappointed.”