nightmare?” He'd never even thought of it. But Daphne knew that much about children.
“We'll go in to her.” He solved the problem, and Daphne laughed at him again.
“You'll be sure and tell her not to set foot out of bed, on penalty of death, won't you, darling?”
“All right, all right.” He felt stupid and uncomfortable, and even he had to admit that Annabelle was a perfect brat all afternoon and then she ate too much candy, and spent too much time in the sun without a hat, and threw up her entire dinner all over Daphne.
“Charming,” she said, looking vastly unamused, as Sam attempted to clean it. “My little man does that constantly too. I've tried explaining to him that it's extremely unattractive.”
“My Mommy throws up all the time,” Annabelle said defensively, glaring at her. She knew they weren't friends, and weren't going to be, no matter what her Daddy said. She wasn't like Brock at all. She was mean and nasty. And she kept touching Annabelle's Daddy and kissing him. Annabelle had seen it. “My Mommy's very brave,” Annabelle went on, as Sam took off her dress and threw it in the sink. He felt her head for a fever, but she didn't have one. “She got very sick, and Daddy got mad at her, and now he's moving to a new apartment.”
“I know, darling, so am I,” Daphne announced before Sam could stop her. “I know all about it. I'm going to live there with him.”
“You are?” Annabelle looked horrified and ran to the room they had assigned her. And as soon as she was gone, Daphne unbuttoned the two straps at her shoulders and stepped out of her sundress, and stood in front of Sam completely naked. “She got sick on my dress,” she explained, but he already knew.
“I'm sorry. I think this is a lot for her to stomach all at once,” he said, unaware of the pun, and Daphne smiled.
“Apparently. Don't worry about it.” She kissed him, and he couldn't keep his hands off her, but he knew he had to.
“You'd better put some clothes on. I'll go up to Annabelle.”
“Why don't you let her stew in it for a while, she's going to have to get used to it. It's really not a good idea to mollycoddle children.” Was that how she thought of it? Mollycoddling? Was that why she'd left her son with her ex-husband in England?
“I'll be down in a minute,” he said, and went upstairs, wondering how long the war would go on. But Annabelle was crying when he got there, and she continued to cry until she fell asleep in his arms, and he felt terrible about everything that had happened. He wanted Annabelle and Daphne to love each other. They were both important to him, they were both important relationships in his life, he needed both of them, and he wanted them at least to like each other.
But when Annabelle woke the next day at six a.m., they were still in bed, and Daphne was lying naked in his arms. He had never thought of what might happen in the morning, and he had forgotten to ask her to wear a nightgown. Annabelle wandered into their room without a sound and stood staring at them, her mouth open in horror. Sam was wearing nothing either, and he suggested that Annabelle go downstairs and wait for them, but Daphne was not amused to be woken at that hour, and it put her in a bad mood all morning.
The two “girls” went at each other tooth and nail, and Sam finally took Annabelle to the beach to get away from it, but when he came back to take Daphne to lunch, she was furious that Annabelle had to come with them.
“What do you suggest I do with her for heaven's sake? Leave her home alone?”
“It wouldn't kill her, you know. She's not an infant. I must say, you treat children in America in quite extraordinary ways. They're dreadfully spoiled and the center of everything. It's not even healthy for them. I promise you, she needs to be treated like a child, Sam. She'd be much happier at home, with a nanny or a maid, than dragging around everywhere with you. If her mother wants to do that with her because she has a pathetic little life, then that's fine, but I'm telling you right now, I don't intend to do it. I won't inflict my son on you for more than