at the suggestion, and I remember that he’s not a man who buys things for himself.
“Felix,” he barks. “Go buy some bourbon.”
That’s when I realize that he’s completely helpless. Money might buy power. It might open doors. It can even close them. But money doesn’t make the man, not if there was no man to start out.
Felix disappears with a furtive glance in my direction, returning a moment later with his wool overcoat and hat. “Adair, would you like anything? Should I pick up dinner?”
“I’m not hungry,” I mutter. Anxiety churns in my stomach like bubbling acid making the thought of eating a bite while my father is here unthinkable.
“A little something,” Felix coaxes. “Remember, you’re still eating for both of you.”
“If she’s not hungry, drop it,” Daddy orders. “She needs to take off the pregnancy weight before she returns to public life.”
I wince, casting my eyes down to Ellie, who’s fallen asleep again, and cradle her closer, taking care not to wake her.
But Felix doesn’t back down. “She has plenty of time for that, but now she needs to look after her health as well as the baby’s.”
My father turns slowly, pivoting his body around the tip of his cane like a compass. His upper lip curls, and I brace for impact. It’s not like Felix to challenge him. I didn’t expect to ever see it. But if Felix is intimidated he doesn’t show it. I’ve seen my father argue before with business associates. Those times it was like watching two goats lock heads, the more determined won by refusing to give out regardless of cost or time or reason. That’s not what this is. There are no horns for my father to meet, and, for the first time, I see him not as the willfully stubborn creature I’d always believed him to be, but as a snake, rising from its coiled position, deciding whether or not to strike.
But Felix’s response is not what I expect. He doesn’t submit like a cornered mouse or freeze like a deer, he doesn’t move at all. But somehow, he grows larger than I’ve ever seen him until his presence looms over us like that of a challenged bear.
“It doesn’t matter as she won’t need to feed the baby much longer,” my father says with a shrug. The snake could strike but why risk getting crushed. “Do it if you like. She can waste the food or eat it. What do I care?”
“What do you mean?” I ask slowly.
He locks in on me instead. “Perhaps, Felix would like to get the bourbon I requested.”
“Felix,” I say softly, knowing I can’t fight with Ellie in my arms, “could you please run down to the store? I’ll take some cookies.”
“I’ll be back shortly.” It’s a promise and a warning rolled into one.
“What did you mean about me not feeding the baby?” I ask as soon as he’s gone.
“Your brother and Ginny arrived with me this evening. They’re getting their hotel suite ready to take the baby, and we’ll fly back in a few days. Ginny wants to do some Christmas shopping first.”
“They’re here?” I can’t process this. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Does it matter?” he asks. “This was the arrangement.”
“She’s a person, not a piece of property. I can’t just ship her over to their hotel in a few days. I need to get her things together. I need to get her used to a bottle. I need…”
I need to say goodbye. I need to memorize every bit of her— the way her fingers curl around mine when she’s falling asleep, her soft adorable snore, the copper hair as fine as down that curls at the nape of her neck. I need to figure out how to put her in someone else’s arms and walk away. The list is too long, and I realize that I could spend the rest of my life trying to finish it.
Because a mother isn’t supposed to say goodbye. She’s supposed to stay.
“A few days?” he repeats, not noticing that I’ve fallen silent. “I imagine they’ll want to come tonight. Perhaps, tomorrow morning. Ginny is excited to meet her daughter and take her Christmas shopping. I’m sure they’ve thought of everything she needs. You can pack up anything you want to send along. It’s not as though you’ll want baby crap cluttering up your apartment.” He laughs as though we’re in on some joke. When I don’t join, he finally pauses. “You are staying in London like we discussed?”
Instead of