“You shouldn’t pressure someone into doing something, Anya. I’m sure Blaire will join us for dinner whenever she is able to and wants to.”
Anya looks a little disappointed and Blaire gives her a hug.
“I’ll see you soon, honey. Maybe we’ll go get ice cream over the weekend?”
Anya nods and then looks at me.
“Why don’t you go to your room and get started with your hair? I’ll see Blaire off and come over.”
Anya dejectedly leaves the room, and Blaire rubs a hand over her face.
“We have got to stop doing this. Putting ourselves in positions where we keep almost getting caught.”
“Isn’t that what feels so right about this?” I ask, stepping closer to her.
Blaire twists her face in a half-grin, half-disapproving look.
“I need to go. I hope you have a nice night, Trevor.”
I let her walk across the room, and then just when she’s about to step out into the hallway, she stops and turns to look at me again.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with us. Why do we keep acting this way? We don’t even like each other.”
Yes, that is a question I keep asking myself too. But the one thing I have learned is there is no point asking your mind or heart for an explanation. They want what they want, and right now, they have made the combined decision to want Blaire.
“Goodnight, Blaire,” I say. I don’t know what else to say to her. I don’t have an answer. Besides, my daughter is waiting in her room for me, and I don’t want to waste more of my day with her.
Blaire walks away. I hear the front door open and shut, and then I pour myself a glass of water. I find the need to calm myself first. Just as always, Blaire has managed to majorly mess with my head.
When I go to Anya’s room, she is already halfway through brushing her hair, but I sit with her and finish it up.
“That was fun, wasn’t it, Daddy?” she asks.
“Yeah, that was a lot of fun.”
“I wish Blaire would come for dinner here every night.”
“Really? Would you like that?” I ask, and Anya looks at me in the mirror’s reflection. All of a sudden, she looks very grown-up and mature.
“I like everything about her, Daddy. Blaire is my most favorite person in the world.”
18
Blaire
It’s the weekend; Anya and I both have melting cones of ice cream in our hands. We have spent the last three hours together, and Rachel has managed to get a well-earned break for the evening. Trevor has been in a meeting all day so he couldn’t have spent the day with his daughter.
“Daddy said he’ll take me to the museum tomorrow,” Anya says as we walk in the direction of our apartment building.
“That sounds exciting. What do you want to see at the museum?”
“Dinosaurs!” she exclaims with glee and gives her ice cream a big lick. It smears all around her mouth, and I hand her a paper towel for wiping.
“I love dinosaurs too. Do you think we’ll ever get to see them in real life?” I ask, which sends Anya into a fit of giggles.
“Dinos don’t exist anymore! They are all dead. Like my mother,” she finally says, and at the last part, her voice becomes softer, and she looks away.
We don’t really discuss Anya’s mom. She has only raised this subject once before, and I didn’t push her to talk about it earlier, and I won’t now. But something seems to have changed. Anya appears to be more open about it today. Maybe the passage of time is slowly healing her.
“Mommy died when she was on a vacation. I never got to say goodbye to her,” she says.
I stop in my path and turn to her. I go down on one knee to be at the same level as her. I want her to be able to see my face clearly.
“I’m so sorry this happened to you, honey. I’m sure your mommy would have wanted to say goodbye. But she is proud of you now, to see how amazing you are.”
I tuck some stray strands of hair behind her ear, and she nods gently.
“I love Daddy. I don’t ever want to live without him, but I miss Mommy sometimes.”
“Of course you do, honey, and it’s totally okay to miss your mommy. It shows how much you love her and how much she loved you.”
“You would make a nice mommy, too,” she continues with a weak smile. I’m one