And Then You

by Amanda Richardson

  “Daddy!” Bria yells as she runs into the kitchen.

  “Hello, princess,” he says soothingly, lifting her up and into his arms.

  “What are we doing today?” she asks, beaming down at him.

  “Well, Evianna and I were thinking of taking you to the zoo or the aquarium.”

  “Oh,” she says, her face falling.

  Crap. She doesn’t want me to come. Just as I’m about to ask to stay here, Bria continues.

  “I wath hoping we could all go to the big wheel,” she says quietly, eyeing Nick mischievously.

  “The big wheel?” he yells, faking outrage and surprise, grinning. “Will you ever get sick of the big wheel?”

  She giggles. “No. Never.”

  I watch them, and I realize that I’m smiling unconsciously.

  “That sounds like a fun day for you two,” I say, excusing myself from the trip.

  Bria wiggles out of her dad’s arms and runs over to me.

  “No! You have to go, Evi! Pleath? Pwetty pleath?”

  I crouch down and look at her in the eyes—Nick’s eyes—light brown, almost amber colored. She must’ve gotten her blonde hair from Isabel.

  “Well, I guess I’ll go, especially since you asked me so nicely,” I say seriously.

  She jumps up and down and runs into my arms. She hugs me tightly.

  I look up at Nick, and the way he’s looking at me… it’s intense. It’s not anger. No, because why would he be angry? It’s not quite confusion, but that’s the closest thing I can think of. His brow is furrowed—something he seems to like to do—and he’s leaning against the stove with his arms crossed. His eyes are narrowed, and he’s clicking his jaw.

  The second we make eye contact, he jumps forward, and the look dissolves.

  “We better get going, then,” he says. He turns around to the pan and flips the omelet onto a plate. “Here,” he says, handing it to me.

  I take it in surprise. “For me?” I ask.

  “Yeah. I noticed you didn’t eat breakfast. You should always start your day off with a healthy breakfast, Evianna.” I try not to smile as he picks Bria up and they walk upstairs together. “Be ready in ten,” he yells to me from the stairs.

  I sit down at the breakfast bar and begin to eat the gooey omelet and holy hell, it’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten.

  I decide that I’ll eat a hearty breakfast every morning as long as Nick Wilder makes it.

  *

  I throw on a rain parka and quickly evaluate my outfit in my mirror. I’m not that into fashion—I’m a jeans and T-shirt kind of woman—but I’d like to look presentable. I look at myself in the mirror. I look casual, fun… like the nanny, I remind myself. I pull my hair out of its ponytail and brush it. I run my fingers through the thick strands. I like the way it looks when it’s down—long and wavy—I just never have the patience to tame it.

  I grab my purse, and I meet Nick and Bria in the living room. Nick is reading to Bria. I stop suddenly, watching them from behind the couch. It’s Dr. Seuss. I recognize the rhyming scheme. Nick’s voice goes up and down a few octaves while speaking. Bria sees me out of the corner of her eye, and she jumps up and runs to me.

  “Leth go!” she demands, grabbing my hand and dragging me to the front door.

  I look up at Nick, watching for the same concerned, confused look he wore a few minutes ago, but he just looks at me blankly, so I follow Bria out the front door. I see him grab three umbrellas out of a closet, and then we’re all ducking and laughing, trying to get to the car. I follow them because I don’t know what kind of car Nick drives. They both run over to the Porsche Cayenne hybrid—the one I was supposed to park next to yesterday morning. I smile when I realize Nick drives a hybrid. I better be careful, because so far he’s checking out nicely, and that could be dangerous.

  I hear the locks click open, and I wrench the passenger door out, climbing in and shutting it quickly behind me. Bria giggles as Nick buckles her into her car seat, and soon Nick is in the driver’s seat. We’re all soaked already. Nick starts to laugh, looking back at Bria.

  “Good thing the big wheel is open, rain or shine,” he says and grins at me.

  “Ok, you guys have to tell me… what is the big wheel?”

  Nick starts the car and backs up, putting his arm on my seat. I try not to notice how close his hand is to my hair.

  “The Seattle Great Wheel?” he asks, eyeing me. “Heard of it?”

  “Oh, that Ferris wheel thing? On the pier?”

  “Yep,” he says. I look away. “You look disappointed,” he states, and I keep my eyes on the road ahead of us.

  Dan took me there for our seven-year anniversary a few months ago.

  Nick must be able to read it on my face because he turns to me at the stoplight.

  “Time to make some good memories, eh?” he wiggles his eyebrows. I can’t help but laugh. “We’ll get some hot dogs, some cotton candy, and we’ll welcome you into the family. What do you say, Bria?” Nick says, but he never takes his eyes off of mine.

  “Yeah!” she shouts, bouncing in her seat.

  I smile and mouth thank you. He just nods his head once and turns his head forward as the light turns green.

  The whole drive there, the windshield is inundated with large raindrops. I hate driving in this kind of rain, so I’m glad Nick is driving. He seems confident but also a little tense—he’s taking in all of his surroundings, concentrating hard on the road. I wonder who was driving the car that killed Isabel and Matthias. I hate that I’m wondering, but something tells me it was Nick. The way his eyes watch every other car around him, the way his eyes shoot up to the rearview mirror every ten seconds… he’s a person driving defensively. He’s a person actively trying to avoid an accident.

  Another accident.

  Eleven.

  Nick

  I hear Bria unbuckle her seatbelt. She mumbles something about a stuffed animal, and I watch her in the rearview mirror as she bends down in her booster seat.

  “Seatbelt on at all times, Bria,” I bark, probably a little too loudly.

  I grip the steering wheel tightly as we merge onto the highway. It’s raining, and I don’t want to take any chances.

  “Thorry, Daddy,” she says guiltily, and she hugs the stuffed animal to her chest as she attempts to buckle back up. A few deafening seconds pass, and I realize I’m clenching my jaw tightly. “I can’t get it,” she whines. “Ith not buckling.”

  Before I can say or do anything, Evianna unbuckles her seatbelt and starts to climb back.

  The rain.

  The seatbelts.

  The damn unbuckled seatbelts.

  “Get back in your seat!” I yell, and Evianna freezes halfway.

  “Nick, it’s fine¸ I’m just going to help her—”

  “Now!” I yell, not caring if I sound like a dick. Her life is more important, and things are starting to feel a little too familiar.

  Evianna retreats back to her seat.

  “Seatbelt on,” I command, and just as she buckles in, I pull over to the side of the road.

  I make sure no cars are coming, and I jog around to Bria’s door. I buckle her in in a matter of seconds, and then I jog back to the driver’s side, checking for cars as I go.

  I start the car and we continue. Evianna looks at me curiously.

  “I just want to be safe,” I say quietly.

  “I understand,” she says, and she’s quiet the rest of the drive to the big wheel.

  Twelve.

  Evianna

  The drive takes fifteen minutes, and it weaves through downtown Seattle. He parks on the street, right up against a building that says Minors Landing. It’s still pouring, so Nick hands me a small, foldable umbrella.

  “Brace yourselves,” he says, and then his door is open, and he’s out. I laugh as I jump out and flip the umbrella open as quickly as possible, corralling Bria closely to my side to shield her as much as possible, but she doesn’t seem to mind the rain. Sh
e reaches for my hand and pulls me along. It amazes me that she’s always the one to pull me. Cecelia was right. She’s very enthusiastic and full of life. It’s hard not to be happy around her.

  There is almost no one here. The Wheel’s “carriages” are completely enclosed, so I know it’s probably open for business despite the rain. We won’t have much of a view, but that’s okay.

  We walk quickly to the ticket stand. Nick purchases two adult tickets and one child ticket. I barely hear what the man behind the ticket counter says, but it’s something about a family pass.

  “What?” Nick yells.

  “Sir, would you like to purchase a family pass? It’s cheaper, and it guarantees that you’ll have the whole gondola car to yourself.”

  Nick looks around at the desolate grounds, and then his eyes meet mine. His smile drops, and his eyes darken when he sees Bria tugging on my shirt, and his eyes wander over to our clasped hands. Something comes over him, and he shakes his head violently, growing pale. He looks like he’s just seen a ghost.

  “No. Just the two adults and one child, please.”

  I look down.

  Fuck.

  “It’s so empty,” Nick mutters as the man hands him our tickets. “We’ll have a gondola car to ourselves regardless.”

  “Very well, sir,” the man says, nodding at me.

  I’m just the nanny, I want to yell, but I silently urge him to shut up.

  As Nick leads us to the entrance, his jaw is clenched again. His fists are balled up, and he’s walking as far away from me as possible.

  I get it! I want to scream. Because I do—I understand.

  “Ladies first,” he says through clenched teeth. I scoot by him as quickly as possible, wanting to minimize any possible physical contact.

  “Adults on either side,” one of the workers says. “Distributes the weight evenly,” she clarifies, ushering me to one side and Nick to the opposite side of the gondola.

  “Fine with me,” Nick mumbles, and I glare at him. When I said that I understood how he must’ve felt when the ticket guy asked if he wanted a family pass, I didn’t think that meant he was allowed to be rude to me. No matter what the hell happened back there, I know it wasn’t my fault, and I’m already sick of Nick blaming me for things.

  The worker closes the door, and the outside world is silenced. I look at our pile of umbrellas waiting on the ground. I hope they don’t blow away.

  “Daddy, we’re going up!” Bria yells, tugging at his shirt.

  The motion seems to remind him of her previous gesture towards me—the one that freaked him out so much—because he just nods once and looks away. I cross my arms.

  This is what I meant when I asked Cecelia if everyone was okay. I didn’t want to become this person, the woman who comes after Isabel—the person always following in her footsteps. The woman that reminds Nick of what he doesn’t have.

  But here I am, being shunned for something I didn’t intend to do. I can’t control his feelings, and he should know that. I’m only doing my job.

  So much for making newer, happier memories. I just stare out at the misty expansiveness. I lean my head against the cool plastic, trying to forget the last time I was on one of these things.

  I’ll love you forever, Ev.

  This isn’t a marriage proposal, but know that I want to be with you for the rest of my life.

  I’ll never love anyone the way I love you.

  Ev and Dan forever…

  I laugh bitterly when I think of that last one. More like Mia and Dan forever now.

  Nick cocks his head at me. I didn’t realize I’d actually laughed out loud.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  “Fine,” I answer, crossing my legs and pulling as far away from him as I can get. “Just feeling a bit sea sick,” I lie, hoping that’ll cover for my lack of enthusiasm. I can tell he doesn’t want to be here just as much as me. “How long does this thing go again?” I ask.

  “Forty minutes,” he says, and the dread in his voice is laughable.

  “Great,” I mutter.

  Bria notices the change in the air, and she slowly climbs over to my bench. I unconsciously uncross my legs and pat my lap. Since I first met her, I’ve felt unexpectedly nurturing towards her. I chalk it up to normal female, motherly instincts. She hops into my lap, and I clasp my arms around her, cuddling her closely to me.

  “My mommy and bwother are thomewhere in there,” she says, pointing to the white mist. “Grammy Ceecee says they’re in heaven, in the cloudth.”

  “I know, sweetheart,” I whisper, closing my eyes.

  I don’t want to see the look on Nick’s face right now. I know it’ll crush me. When I open them a few minutes later, he’s sitting with his face in his hands.

  God.

  I can’t handle this.

  Is he crying? Oh god, what if he’s crying? I watch as his body remains still. He’s probably past the stage of crying at this point.

  Bria squirms in my lap, unaffected by her sad words just a moment ago. She looks at her dad, and I feel her physically slump into me. His grief is affecting her.

  I can’t take it anymore. I have to do something. We have like thirty-five more minutes, and I already feel like it’s been hours.

  “Have you guys ever played Would You Rather?” I ask, overly enthusiastic.

  Nick’s head jerks up, and he looks at me like I’m crazy. I just smile and shrug.

  “No,” Bria says quietly. “How do you play?” Her honey-colored, curious eyes look up at me from my lap.

  “Well,” I explain, ignoring Nick, “I give you two scenarios. And you have to choose which one you’d rather do.”

  “Okay…” she says skeptically. “Ask me.”

  “Hmm…” I pretend to think. “Would you rather have five legs or no arms?”

  She turns around and looks at me, disgusted.

  “Neither,” she cries. “Both would be bad.”

  I try a different approach.

  “Would you rather only be able to eat your favorite food for the rest of your life or never eat your favorite food again?”

  She looks at Nick inquisitively. I see a small smile form on the edge of his lips.

  “Favorite food for the westh of my life!” she yells, and Nick laughs.

  The spell is broken!

  “You’re only saying that because your favorite food is chocolate ice cream,” he says accusingly.

  “I would like having ice cream for every meal,” she says, smiling. “Daddy’s turn.”

  I look at Nick. He sits up, and crosses his arms, clearly amused. Whatever he was feeling before is gone. He’s the Nick from the kitchen this morning. I tilt my head and assess him.

  “Hmm…” I say. I give him a small smile, and his eyes crinkle as he watches me with interest. “Would you rather always have to say everything you are thinking or never speak again?”

  I chose that one on purpose.

  He looks at me and smiles, rubbing his mouth with his hand as he thinks.

  “Always say what I’m thinking,” he says, and Bria laughs.

  “Even when ith not nice?”

  “Even when it’s not nice,” he repeats. “It’s better than never talking again. I have to be practical.”

  I nod my head approvingly. If only this game were real. I’d like to know what Nick Wilder is thinking right about now.

  “Another one,” Bria squeals. “Daddy, athk Evi now.”

  Nick sits up straighter, and his eyes bore into mine. He’s clearly entertained.

  “Okay,” he says slowly. “Would you rather find true love or be rich?”

  “True love,” I answer immediately. “Life’s not worth living without true love.”

  “Have you ever experienced true love, Evianna?” he asks seriously.

  “I thought so. Once. But they say true love doesn’t end. So… I guess I haven’t.”

  He watches me silently as the gondola rocks gently back and forth. I want to look away, but
I can’t. He just locks his eyes on mine and doesn’t do anything, doesn’t say anything… it’s like he’s trying to read me.

  “One day you’ll find someone who will make you realize why it didn’t work out with anyone else,” he says, barely audible.

  Bria doesn’t hear him—she’s too busy looking out into the clouds—and I suck in a silent breath. For some reason, he makes it hard to breathe around him.

  I know he’s right, but the quiet way he said it sent shivers down my entire body. Like it was our secret. He runs his hand through his hair and then stares down at his feet, smiling.

  At least I made him smile. It’s much better than miserable Nick.

  The gondola swings silently. We’re all in our own worlds, but I’m confident in the fact that all of us are a bit happier now than we were a few minutes ago. When we get to the bottom, it has stopped raining, so we swing our umbrellas and walk over to the food stand. Nick orders us each a hot dog and a large cotton candy, as promised.

  “Thank you,” I say, chewing my hot dog as we walk back to the car.

  “Thank you,” he says quietly, jingling his keys in his hand. Bria is holding his other hand. “You turned what could’ve been a very depressing gondola ride into a fun one.”

  “Oh. Well, I’m glad I could help.”

  “Sometimes…” he starts and looks down at Bria. She’s too distracted by the seagulls to pay attention to us. “Sometimes it grips me out of nowhere, and I feel so lost. It’s horrible. And it comes in waves. Most days, I’m fine. Sometimes though… it feels like I’m drowning.”

  “I know.” I look at him as we walk. “I want to say that I understand, but I honestly have no idea what it feels like to lose everything all at once. So I’m not going to say that I understand. I’m just going to say that I’m so sorry this happened to you. It’s not fair. Yet… it’s kind of beautiful that you had something that makes saying good-bye so hard.”

  He concentrates on my face, taking in my words. I can tell what I said affected him, and I’m not sure if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. We reach his car, and I stand beside him as he buckles Bria in. She’s still distracted by her cotton candy. When he’s done, he closes her door and faces me.