Bridget, sitting next to me, held her pizza and picked off the olives. She tossed them in her mouth before she sank her teeth into the dough.
Lee squeezed his eyes shut and stopped chewing, as if remembering something terrible. “I’m sorry, Kate. I forgot to ask you what toppings you wanted.”
I was just about to take a bite, but stopped to answer. “That’s okay. I like everything on it, so you did good.”
Bridget stuffed her mouth, kicking her legs under the table. “I like everything on it too.”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full, young lady. It’s bad manners and you might choke.” Lee shook his finger at her from across the table, his voice firm but soft.
“Okay.” Bridget huffed out air. “You told me that like one hundred times.”
“Oh, is that all?” Lee laughed and took another piece from the box. “I’m worried what she’ll say to me when she’s a teenager.”
“You don’t want to know.” I sank my teeth through the warm dough and cheese-drenched toppings.
I moaned into the pizza while Lee and Bridget stared.
“You’re both right. It’s the best pizza in the worrrrrllld,” I announced with exaggerated enthusiasm.
“Yah.” They cheered, giving each other high fives.
Bridget bobbed her head from side to side to the melody of “Feliz Navidad” playing in the background as Lee poured soda in cups and sang along.
I liked this playful and relaxed side of Lee. He seemed to show it more around me lately.
“What do you want for Christmas?” I asked Bridget.
She pushed her pizza crust aside. “I don’t know. I don’t need anything.”
“She has everything.” Lee snorted and passed me a cup.
“That’s not her fault. Someone spoils her.” I gave him a mock scowl and drank.
He smiled sheepishly. “How about you?”
“I don’t need anything. I mean, there’s a lot I wish to have, but ... Oh, I know—chocolate chip cookies.”
I threw in a bit of humor because the things I wished for would never come true. Like wishing Steve and Roselyn had never had cancer.
“Chocolate chip cookies?” Bridget’s giggles filled the room.
I continued eating and said, “Maybe I should ask Santa for pizza?”
Bridget laughed harder.
I wasn’t trying to be funny. I didn’t have anything else to say.
Lee and I flinched and I sucked in air when Bridget dropped her pizza and burst into a fit of coughing, like she was choking. She finally stopped and drank water.
Lee and I exchanged horrified glances and then relaxed with an exhale at the same time. He put a hand to his forehead and shook his head, and I did the same. We rolled our eyes when we made contact.
When a text came through, Lee got up and wiped his mouth with the napkin. “I need to leave, but I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
His words were meant for Bridget, but he was looking at me.
“Take your time. Go do your business and come home. I’ll be here.” I got up to clean the table.
Lee went around the table to Bridget and kissed her on the cheek. He then turned toward me, as if he’d been about to kiss me by reflex but stopped and retreated. Our gazes locked a heartbeat too long.
“I-I’ll see you later, Kate,” he said quickly.
“Be safe and have fun.”
Have fun? Lame—he was going to a business meeting. But what if it wasn’t? He might be going on a date. And he had every right to go out with whoever he wanted.
Irritated with myself, I shoved the thoughts aside and cleaned the table with Bridget’s help. After we played a couple of games of Unicorns versus Skeletons, she brushed her teeth and I read her a bedtime story.
I got into bed with Bridget, snuggled under the blanket. It was only nine, but she was exhausted, and so was I.
“Would you like me to stay with you or would you rather me leave?” I asked.
“Stay,” she said, her eyelashes fluttering.
“Okie dokie. Then I’ll read you another book.”
Bridget wrapped her thin arms around my neck and pulled me closer. “I know what I want for Christmas.” Her words were soft and hardly audible.
“You do?” I whispered, using the same quiet tone.
She nodded, her big eyes glistening like blue diamonds.
“What is it?”
“You.” She tapped my chin. “I wish you could stay with me forever.”
I melted into a puddle. Abby was right—I was getting attached to Lee and Bridget more than I should. In only two weeks, we’d bonded strong and fast.
Secretly, I was playing house. Lee, my amazing loyal husband, who would never cheat on me. Bridget, my sweet daughter. We were a happy family. But I was down to the last few days. Mona would be back soon and they wouldn’t need me anymore. When I left, Bridget would have to make another adjustment.
Kids are resilient. They bounce back fast. I’d miss her more than she would me.
“We will always be friends. No matter what happens.” Liquid pooled in my eyes.
“Promise?” Her lips turned downward into a pout.
“Let’s pinky promise.”
She curled her small delicate pinky into mine and said, “Promise to the unicorns, rainbows, and all the sparkling things.”
I laughed and repeated.
Bridget fell asleep about halfway through the second book. I shelved it and called my sister and we talked until my phone flashed with a text.
Lee: What are you doing?
I blinked. Jayden used to ask me that, so it seemed more intimate than something you’d text your employee.
Me: Bridget is sleeping.
Lee: That’s good. Thank you.
Me: You’re welcome. What are you doing?
I pictured him surrounded by beautiful, well-to-do women, and I almost didn’t want to know.
Lee: Boring stuff. You’d fall asleep.
I laughed.
Me: Is that why you’re texting me?
Lee: Maybe.
Me: Well, I hope I don’t bore you then.
Lee: You’re not boring.
I didn’t know what to think of that.
Me: You’re not boring either. Maybe. Sometimes.
Lee: What? I think my ego needs stroking.
Me: I think ...
I itched to text something naughty about something else that needed stroking, but I sternly reminded myself who I was speaking to.
The three dots rippled for a few seconds and then stopped. They came up again and then stopped. When he didn’t finish, I figured he’d gotten busy with his meeting, so I went to the painting room and continued a painting I had started. I wanted to leave Lee and Bridget a parting gift for welcoming me into their home and filling my life with joy.
Jayden was no longer in my thoughts and I harbored no bad feelings toward him. Abby, Tyler, Lee, and Bridget had filled me with gratitude that overpowered the residue of what he’d left behind. My heart had no room for past inconsequential things. No room for hurt and hatred, just love and happiness.
We are reminded life is fleeting when tragedy strikes—or almost does. That moment of fear that we had lost Bridget had jolted and reset my system.
As I listened to a Christmas playlist with my earphones on, I stroked the canvas with the paintbrush. I added details to the hair, lightening it a bit. Then I shaded along the cheekbones.