I’d still die for you – Dominic Donner
Ijump, pretending to do some sort of Irish dance as I throw my feet around in front of Lyra's cot. Her little hands are holding onto the barrier, and she's moving up and down to the rhythm of the music I'm playing on the violin. Every time I twirl, she giggles like an angel. I move my bow dramatically to keep her entertained, but it's the music that has her wide brown eyes shining.
"MoreIrish folk music?" Nyx groans as she walks through the front door.
"It's not my fault she loves it." I keep playing and dancing as Lyra tries to clap and loses balance, falling on her butt. "Sorry our daughter isn't a Mozart lover like you."
I've only been back for two months, but Nyx and I didnotmanage to take things slow. I moved into the lake house right away, and Sophie needs to be close to me the same way I need to be close to her, so she had no issues moving in too. She's the biggest daddy's girl who's ever walked this earth. It's not like I would complain anyway.
She’s a stubborn little lady, so her adjustment to American life has been a challenge. She loves Nyx, and she absolutelyadoresLyra. She doesn’t call Nyx her mom, still sometimes confused as to who her real mother is, no matter how many times I explained the truth to her. But it took no time for her to call Lyra her little sister. My mom was finally able to move back to Stoneview, and that gives Sophie her safe haven when she’s not in my arms. When she’s at my mom’s, she can speak French, and she has that familiarity she lost among the chaos.
At first, my mom struggled to let go of Sophie and not care for her all the time. We spent so long being worried about her that she couldn’t stay away. But slowly, without any judgement, Nyx is showing her she can be trusted. She’s come up with routines that make my mom and Sophie feel safe because they know it’ll be the same thing every time. A treat at a coffee place every Sunday afternoon for the three of them. Picking up Sophie from school on her own once a week. And Sophie’s favorite: When Nyx takes her to Ella’s dancing studio on Saturdays.
My mom’s newfound freedom has made her so happy. She loves Nyx and is so respectful of her place in the family we’re creating. She explains to Sophie, when needed, that she’s her grandmother, and she doesn’t let her call hermomanymore.
Sometimes, it all feels too good to be true. Most of the time, I lose myself in the happiness without question. That’s the effect Nyx still has on me. That reassuring light she carries everywhere she goes.
"Achilles," Nyx calls out over the music. "I swear you're going to make me turn off the hearing aid. Can youstopfor a minute?"
I eye Lyra still giggling in her cot.
"I'm afraid I can't. As long as she's laughing, I'm playing."
"I think my mom is following me again."
I stop right away. "What?"
Lyra pouts, her eyes filling with tears, and the same way I can never resist those big eyes when Nyx wants something, I put my violin down to take her in my arms right away, letting her nestle against my neck as she sucks her thumb.
"Did she talk to you?" I ask Nyx as I turn back to her.
She shakes her head. "No. But I'm pretty sure she doesn't need baby diapers, so she has no business in the same aisle as I was. She ignored me when I tried to talk to her, but she was at the gas station on the South Bank yesterday too. She doesn't even live there."
She takes her phone out and checks the time. "Anyway, I freaked out and drove here, but I have more errands to run before I pick up Sophie from her dance class with Ella."
She puts a hand on Lyra's shoulder and presses a kiss to her cheek. "Mommy's going to be back very soon. And then she can play Bach for you. You love Bach, baby girl, don't you?"
Lyra coos because she loves the sound of her voice, but I can say with certainty that she hates Bach.
"Take her," I say as I try to give her to Nyx. "I'll pick up Sophie. I don't want you out on your own if Catherine is being weird."
"Don't be paranoid. What’s she going to do?"
"I don't care; I'm not taking the risk. She escaped our justice system, but she won't fucking escape me if she steps out of line."
She cocks an eyebrow at me. "Can you not talk about murder when you have an eleven-month-old in your arms, please?"
I smile, but I already know it's the kind she hates. "I never said the word. You did."
She takes the car keys from her pocket. "You're not picking up Sophie. You've got a call with the New York Philharmonic for the opening. We'll talk about it when I get back."
"I'll miss it. I don't care." I follow her, almost tripping on my violin. I'm ready to follow her to the car, but I've got noshoes, and I’m holding a baby who is nowhere near ready to step outside.
"Call me!" I shout, and she shakes her head as she gets in the car.
As usual, Nyx knows best. The call with the New York guys goes smoothly, and I'm glad I didn't miss it. It's a breath of fresh air, a new hope to know that I'll be playing my new concerto. The last two years, my lungs have been tight and my hands tingling to play professionally. Being with Nyx again, taking care of my daughters, that's my life, the reason I'm alive. But playing the violin? It's my passion. It runs in my blood and pushes me to keep bettering myself. I can't wait to tell Nyx that she'll be first chair. Having her play behind me while I present our masterpiece to the world is a dream come true, and I've never felt more inspired.
I'm feeding Lyra when my phone rings with an unknown number. Nyx still isn't back, but it's not even time to pick up Sophie yet.
