what happened with Benjamin, and now that Ava peered me right in the eyes, I gratefully shoved those thoughts away. It seemed far easier to face her knowing I hadn't kissed her father. Wanted to, but hadn't.
Still dreamed about it, though.
“What do you want to do next?” I asked.
She hesitated. “I get to choose?”
“You bet.”
She grabbed a napkin and patted the milk off her lips while her gaze darted around the room. Nervously she asked, “Can we play with my dolls?”
“Sure.”
“Really?”
“Of course.”
Blinking, she just stared at me. One eyebrow rose. “You'll play with me?”
“I'm looking forward to it.”
Her head tilted back slightly, as if she wasn't ready to believe that, but she eventually slid off the stool and headed toward the stairs. Her bedroom awaited at the top, a six-year-olds best disaster of toys, doll clothes, and discarded sandals strewn around the room. She glanced over her shoulder, as if to make sure I actually followed.
When I folded myself on the floor near her dollhouse, she sat on her knees next to me. With a hand halfway to her favorite doll, she stopped again.
“Are you going to get on your phone while I play?”
“Nope.”
“Oh.” Her body relaxed a little. “Okay, well, I'll be the purple one. You be the one with the green dress. Pretend that we're at a tea party and the queen is gonna come and we're wearing our best dresses.”
I had to stifle twinges of both despair and love. First, she lived with an all-male father that couldn't comprehend this little-girl world. While he probably tried really hard, sitting down to play with dolls at a tea party had to be torturous. Secondly, I had a feeling that her Mom had left a cemetery of broken promises behind. Was Ava so suspicious of my plan to play with her because those promises had been made in the past, but never fulfilled?
Or fulfilled in front of a phone?
I brushed those thoughts aside to cast my voice in a high-pitched tone that made Ava giggle, and the happy sound sent tremors all the way to my toes.
When she laughed, she looked the most like her father.
Oh, yes. We'd be just fine.
That evening, after an hour of dolls, a walk around the river, and a quiet dinner, Ava lay sleeping in her room. I stared at Benjamin's bed as if it would swallow me whole.
The master bedroom filled up part of the main floor just beneath Ava. As long as I kept the door cracked open, I'd be able to hear her if she called out in the night. It was a sprawling room, with a large king-sized bed, a subdued headboard, and a footstool at the end that housed extra blankets. He had a walk-in closet with clothes on only one side. Everything was almost pristine except for a little dust here and there. But why? His house was an utter disaster without me, but this room almost sterile? He probably spent little time in here, and I wondered why. The decorations were as exciting as cardboard.
I walked past his bed and into an equally heartless bathroom. Tiled floors. Massive, jetted tub. Walk-in shower with glass panes and two sprays, one from overhead and one from the wall.
Yes, please.
The room smelled slightly spicy, like aftershave and men's deodorant mixed together. I peeked through his shower caddy, amused to find a bar of what appeared to be goat's milk soap that smelled like pine trees.
Fluffy towels lined two racks, and a separate room housed the toilet. The entire master bedroom and bathroom were bigger than the loft I rented.
A bit lost, I wandered back to his bedroom and stared at the bed. The duvet was a slate gray, with navy blue sheets and fluffy pillows I suspected he didn't even use. A nightstand with little more than lip balm and a book on fighting sat next to his bed. Benjamin's life was . . . barren. Almost sterile. Like he avoided home or something.
After I forced myself to change into my pajamas and turn out the lights, I lay my head on his pillow and drew in a deep breath.
Benjamin.
Like he surrounded me.
The luxury of sleeping in his very firm bed, without him, made me giggle a little bit. He'd offered it on his way out of the house, saying he'd changed the sheets, but I hadn't thought much of it until now. There were rooms that could be guest bedrooms, but he hadn't bothered to buy the necessary furniture