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“Mm-hm, lots, like when you stare out the window in the kitchen,” she nodded as she hummed the sound.
My daughter was right. Looking out at our backyard always reminded me of Grace. I guess my thoughts were less private during those times than I thought; if my expression told my story. “Then I need to smile more, eh?” I asked.
“Yay, I’d like that,” she raved excitedly, wrapping her tiny arms around my neck as she brought her little cheek next to mine. The feel of her soft skin on my face warmed the chill in my heart.
Leaning her head back enough to look at me, she held my gaze for a second before she planted a kiss square on my lips. “Come on, Daddy, before Harper eats all the banana bread. Matty always has to hide it from her.”
I chuckled again at the thought of Matty doing this. “All right. Lead the way, Baby. I’d hate to miss a slice of the good stuff on my first day home.”
Layla wriggled free, and I slid her down my body until her feet hit the floor. Grabbing my hand, she put her weight into tugging me along with her, grinning back at me repeatedly as we made our way downstairs.
As we reached the kitchen, Layla let go my hand and ran ahead. The loss of her skin against mine made my heart clench again, because I’d missed almost nineteen months of her little life touring.
Suddenly I was riddled with guilt because the little person I’d given life to—the same one her mother had given her life for—had taken so much in her stride, but the balance of her care wasn’t distributed as equally as it should have been.
Entering the kitchen, I saw Harper and Matty chatting. Harper was leaning on the kitchen counter on one side, Matty facing her from the other. Both were hugging mugs of coffee, mirroring their stance. The normalcy of the scene sent a warm feeling through me. Turning to look at me, Matty rounded the counter.
“Here he is. May I have mine now?” Layla asked expectantly.
Matty smiled affectionately and bent to speak to my daughter. “Yep, you did a great job, and wow, look at how handsome your daddy is now he doesn’t have that animal stuck to his chin.”
Layla squinted in my direction as did Harper, and I watched Harper fight a smile that threatened to break free. “I said the zackt same thing,” Layla agreed, looking pleased with herself as she climbed up on the stool.
Placing two slices of banana bread and a coffee on the countertop, then a glass of milk and one slice for Layla beside mine, Matty wandered over to the pantry and pulled out her purse. I’d never understood her need to bring it downstairs to the kitchen all the time.
“Right, Harper told me about the takeout food. I’m not gonna argue because you look like you could use the extra calories with all that junk they feed you on the road, but starting tomorrow, I’m gonna fatten up that skinny, lanky ass of yours and get some vitamins inside of you. You’re going on a healthy eating plan. Lean fillet steak, slow baked jacket potatoes, and plenty of salad for dinner tomorrow night. You may want to take tomorrow’s menu into consideration when you’re ordering later.”
Instead of being pissed at being told what to eat, it felt good to be mothered by Matty for a change. She was right; a long stretch of poor takeout food on the bus and the standard hotel food menus meant I ate the same old greasy shit everywhere.
If I’d had the slightest reservations about ditching the tour and being home, the warm welcome from my daughter, the familiar faces of Matty and Harper, and Matty’s straight talking made me feel glad to be back.
During the hour after Matty’s departure, Layla kept Harper and I entertained with her sweet chatty nature. Every time I had spoken to my daughter, while I was away, there had always been something new that had taken me by surprise. It was clear Harper was dedicated and had given my daughter plenty of attention, because of the level of conversation she had.
What I loved was how Harper had taught Layla to think for herself: to form opinions and not be afraid to express herself. Grace would have been proud of how far she had come in such a short time and how she appeared to cope with Grace’s absence.
Despite my offer of takeout, Matty had made Layla’s favorite dinner: macaroni and cheese with tiny cherry tomatoes laced through it and a crisp cheese topping. It was exactly how she liked it. I sat with my little girl as she ate dinner, humming and mming in delight as she ate her way through it. When my doctor arrived for the house call, Harper took Layla upstairs to prepare her bath before bed.
William had no hesitation in writing a certificate to say I was burned out. Letting people down wasn’t in my nature, even though I knew I’d done the right thing for my daughter and myself.
The doc was frank and expressed his concern at how I looked. I’d tried to pass it off as losing the beard, but I hadn’t missed the second glance and shock on his face when I opened the front door to him when he’d first arrived.
Once William had left and I’d updated Derek, Layla was already tucked up in bed. Part of me had wanted more time with her, but it wasn’t about what I wanted. It had made sense not to involve her in the takeout because she now went to bed at 7:30 p.m., and the counselor had suggested, maintaining her usual schedule was important to help her feel secure.
By 8:00 p.m. my daughter was sound asleep, having conned me into not one, but two bedtime stories. Reading about fairies and witches, hobgoblins, and too many other characters to recollect had made me feel closer to her for a few minutes.
As I read, Harper had ordered the takeout, and by the time I went back downstairs to the kitchen, she was setting the table in preparation of the food arriving.
With my mind flitting back to Layla’s comment about not having kids at the house, I told Harper to organize a cookout with Matty for the following Sunday, and to invite the family of the playdate over, returning the favor.
My body was still keyed up from the decisions I’d made and I opened a bottle of wine, opting to stay away from hard liquor. Sliding onto a seat at the dining table, I poured two glasses of Merlot for us. Harper was finished placing the silverware and I felt her awkwardness about my earlier comment.
“Come… sit down and relax,” I told her at the exact second the gate buzzer sounded. Harper looked at me, a little unsure of what to do, then went to the intercom and buzzed the delivery guy through the outer gate.
“I’m on it,” Stuart called from the hallway when the car drove up and delivered the Chinese food. Bringing it into the kitchen, Stuart and I exchanged pleasantries about me being back and with the promise to catch up soon, he left, leaving Harper and I alone.
Harper hung back while we spoke, then grabbed a jug, filled it with iced water, and came over to the table. Years of learning to read women told me she wasn’t entirely comfortable. Then it dawned on me that this was the first time we’d spent the evening together without someone or other hanging around.
Gesturing toward the food I nodded. “Dig in.”
