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“Where did you come up with her nickname?” I’ve been curious for a while. Is it just something that rolls off his tongue or is it more than that?
Remi lowers the music. “What? Isa-bea?”
I nod.
“Bea means bringer of happiness.” He turns to me, brown eyes catching green. “That’s exactly what she does.”
Oh, my heart. My hand flies to the left side of my chest, and my eyes turn glossy. Before I let myself get emotional, I deflect. “Is that why you call me Queeny, because I’m a bossy bitch?”
His quirked lip lifts his cheek. “When we first met, you were pretty cold toward me.” He shrugs. “So yes, initially I called you Queeny to get under your skin.” He takes my hand, folding his fingers around it.
I just sit there and stare at our skin touching. My breath hitches, and goosebumps dot my arm. It feels so right, even though I know it’s wrong. “And now?” I whisper.
“You’re not ready to hear it. That’s okay.” His crooked smile lights me up. “I’ll wait.”
Isabel takes this moment to shout the lyrics from the back seat like I’m in some kind of Disney movie and the characters are trying to set the tone for a romantic kiss. “You know I wuv you, baybe. Rewwy wuve you, baybe.”
Remi chuckles and lifts the back of my hand to his lips before letting me go. Now, my hand feels cold and lonely.
We drive toward the outskirts of town, where wheat and corn are more prominent than skyscrapers and city lights. It seems so peaceful here. Pretty soon, we’re pulling into a parking lot for Hope Village Assisted Living.
“Oh, wow. Is this where Aretha lives?”
Manny’s chuckle rubs me in all the right places. “No, but her previous owner does.”
Once we park, Remi gets Isabel out of the car seat and—holding her—grabs my hand again. “I’ve never brought anyone here.” The reverence in his voice lets me know that this is significant.
If I continue through the entrance hand-in-hand with Remi, our relationship will change. It’s terrifying because I don’t know if I’m ready for this. And it’s thrilling because I’m not opposed to finding out.
Once we step through the heavy doors, we’re greeted by the front desk nurse’s wide smile. “Is it my favorite day of the week already?”
Remi winks at the older woman, and she blushes. “Seeing you anytime is my favorite day.” Their banter is more playful than flirty. “Hattie, this sweet girl is Isabel.” Remi smirks and holds my daughter to the nurse, showing her off like a proud papa. “And this is her mother, Mae.”
“H-hi.” My greeting is weak because something is stabbing me in the chest, and it’s not heartburn.
Somewhere between me keeping my hands to myself and Remi at arm’s length, I didn’t realize his role in our lives has become more significant. I hate forgetting he’s only Isabel’s nanny, but I can’t help it sometimes. Their bond is so natural, and he just fits perfectly. With him, everything just feels so complete. Like a family.
Hattie pinches Isabel’s cheeks, and she squeals in delight at the attention. “You know you’re going to make her day, right? She’s been floating around here, telling everyone about—”
Remi’s shoulders tense, and his eyes widen. A plastic grin crosses his face. “Okay, well. It’s great seeing you, Hattie. Are you coming to the show?”
The nurse winks at him. “You know I wouldn’t miss it.” She presses a button on her desk and the doors swing open, revealing a big room where about twenty senior citizens are gathered.
“Remi!” they all cry in unison, and I feel like I’m in a rerun episode of Cheers.
Remi goes around the room with handshakes and high-fives, greeting everyone. “Hey, Jack.” He even flirts with them. “Did you get your hair done, Ruth? I like it.”
Ruth pats her coif as her cheeks flame. “Thank you.”
A crotchety old man in a wheelchair points a crooked finger at Remi. “You better play some Frank Sinatra. No more of that Ed Sheeran bullshit.”
“You got it, Charlie.” He just takes everything in stride—talking, introducing Isabel, and giving human touch to everyone he sees.
An overwhelming warmth blooms in my chest and spreads throughout my body. It’s so immense I’m afraid it will heat the whole room. I put my hand against my mouth to hide my quivering lips. Watching him show off my daughter is everything I’ve ever dreamed of. In another life, he could be her father. We would be a family, happy and whole.
An older woman, maybe in her early eighties, with eggplant-colored hair and dark red lipstick, walks into the room. “It’s about time you got here. I was ready to— Oh my, who do we have here?” She reaches up to Isabel. “Aren’t you just the cutest?”
Suddenly shy, Isabel hides her face in Remi’s shoulder.
