The First Taste (Slip of the Tongue #2) - Jessica Hawkins Page 0,59

with Amelia, it’s better that she isn’t interested in my daughter. “I need to learn when to shut up. I go overboard when it comes to her.”

Amelia looks down a second, which seems to be the only response I’ll get from her.

“I’ll, uh, just step out.” I take my phone into the hallway. It’s a non-smoking floor, but I light one anyway and dial the house.

“Beckwith residence,” Flora answers.

“Hey. It’s me. Bell still awake?”

“What do you think?” she asks.

I chuckle. “Bottom shelf of the bookcase in the living room. Look for The Frog Prince. She loves Grimms’ Fairy Tales, but she doesn’t yet know that one’s her least favorite. It usually puts her to sleep. I only use it in emergencies so she doesn’t catch on.”

“I’ll give it a shot,” she says. “But she’s been . . . more restless than usual. Maybe you could tell her a quick story? To calm her down?”

“Pass the phone,” I say with a sigh. Flora can normally handle herself, so it must be bad.

“Princess Bell,” Flora says away from the receiver. “Your prince is on the phone.”

“Daddy,” Bell screeches. I take a drag while she gets to the phone. “Are you coming home now?” she asks.

“Not yet, Bluebell. Are you being good for Mrs. Picolli?”

“You promised you’d be home before I went to bed.”

I exhale smoke up at the ceiling, shaking my head. This is exactly what I was just describing to Amelia. Bell gets the same tone Shana used to get when she’s testing how far she can push me. “I didn’t say that.”

“Yes you did—”

“What have I told you about lying? We don’t lie. And you never, ever lie to your father. Do you hear me?”

She sniffles. “I’m sorry. I just m-miss you. Please come home.”

My throat gets thick in an instant, the way it does when I know she’s trying to keep tears in. It’s sometimes worse than when she actually cries. I shouldn’t have snapped at her, not when she’s already upset, but any form of lying is unacceptable in our house.

Suddenly, I can’t stomach the thought of smoking, but there’s nowhere to put out the cigarette. I keep it between my fingers and scratch my eyebrow. “I’m sorry, kid. I’m not angry. Go get in bed. Flora’ll read you a story, and you’ll fall asleep in minutes. By the time you wake up, I’ll be home.”

She hiccups. “No.”

Fuck. I know what’s coming. I try to stop it, even though I know it’s in vain. “Bell, please don’t—”

“I miss you,” she sobs into the phone. Unlike before, when she was throwing a tantrum, her cries are weighty, hopeless, as if I just confessed to killing her puppy or that I made plans to ship her off to boarding school. They’re the familiar, late-night sobs of a confused toddler asking where Mommy went months ago. “I won’t go to sleep. Not until you come home. Please, Daddy. I’m scared.”

I press the meat of my palm to my forehead. All the nasty things Shana ever said to me, all the names my dad called me growing up, nothing hurts an ounce as much as this. Listening to my daughter beg me to be with her when I’m not is sheer torture.

“Bell, honey,” Flora says in the background. “The sooner you let Daddy get back to his party, the sooner he’ll be home.”

“Leave me alone,” she says, but there’s no fight in her voice, just wobbling defeat. “He’s my dad. You don’t know him or me.”

“Come on, Bell,” I say. “That’s not fair to Flora.”

“No. I won’t go to sleep. I’ll stay up all night and wait for you. I swear, I won’t even get in bed—”

“Bell—”

“No! No, no, no, no, n—”

“Okay,” I say, anything to make it stop. “Okay. All right. I’ll . . . I’ll come home.”

She sniffs. “You will? Now?”

“It’ll take me a while to get there. Please go lie down and let Flora read to you until I’m there.”

“You promise?” she asks, hiccupping again. “Swear?”

I look at the ground. I know in my gut she’ll be asleep when I get home. But if I lie to her, and she wakes up to find me not where I said I’d be, I can’t bear to think how it would hurt her. “I swear.”

“Okay. I’ll go to bed, but I promise I won’t sleep. Not until you come say goodnight.”

“All right.” I sigh, not sure what to feel about the fact that the heaviness in her voice has vanished. It’s