“Cosette loves the water. I would set up the kiddie pool before I left for work in the morning, so it was warm by the time I got home. She spent hours in it. Up and down the little slide. Blowing bubbles until the water went up her nose. Singing songs she learned at the nanny’s. I wanted to sign her up for swimming lessons, but my work schedule makes it difficult to do things like that. She would love the big pool. Sometimes, she made me get in there with her. That was a feat. I barely fit. The water would slosh over the edge and make her laugh.”
Kobe chuckled. “Her smile is amazing.”
A knife stabbed at my heart. “It’s her mother’s smile. She’s her spitting image. Angelique’s hair was a shade darker, but otherwise…”
Kobe said nothing, respectfully allowing the moment to pass, for which I was grateful. We stared for another minute at the picture before he put it back where it belonged and wandered the room, selecting another. When he sat, it was close enough that our thighs touched. He leaned against my side, his weight solid and comforting.
Terrifying.
Welcoming.
“Tell me about this one. It looks recent.”
“It is.” Of all the pictures he could have chosen. I had a duplicate in my office down the hall.
I unconsciously touched my chest as memories surged.
The photo showed Cosette blowing dandelion fluff into the air. Squinty eyes. Puckered lips. The exaggeration of the act was comical, making it look like the effort to set the seeds afloat was difficult.
“She loves picking flowers in the summer. She makes bouquets, and I display them on the kitchen table in a cup of water.”Or we bring them to her mother’s grave, I didn’t say. “Sometimes, I weave them in her hair. It makes her feel like a princess. Mostly, she finds weeds. She especially loves dandelions. She gets sad when they go to seed, wanting them to stay yellow, so I taught her to blow the seeds and make a wish.”
I paused, a pinch in my chest making it hard to breathe. “It was something her mother always did. Even all grown up. I told her it was silly and childish, but she did it anyway. Cosette doesn’t understand the wishing part yet, but she loves making the fluff fly.”
“I used to make wishes on dandelions.”
“Every child does. I don’t know why Angelique had such an affinity for it, but she did. I think knowing her daughter shares the same pleasure would make her smile.”
“I have no doubt.”
“She was an artist. Angelique. Not professional, by any means, but skilled in her own right. She liked to draw. Sketches mostly.”
Hesitantly, I undid a few buttons on my shirt and drew the fabric aside, displaying my tattoo. It was a dandelion gone to seed, a few pods drifting on an invisible current as though someone had huffed and puffed and blown them away. It took up most of my pec on the left-hand side over my heart. Underneath was Angelique’s dainty signature.
“This was one of her favorites.”
Kobe admired the ink, reaching out and tracing the tips of his fingers along its surface. My arms pebbled with goose bumps, the fine hairs standing on end. It had been a long time since someone touched me so intimately.
“Cosette’s appreciation for dandelions was not my doing. I didn’t encourage it. The fascination is her own, so this felt appropriate. A way to commemorate my two girls.”
“It’s beautiful. I wonder what she wished for when she drew it.”
I closed my eyes, needing a minute.How did he know to ask such a thing?
With a lump in my throat, feigning ignorance, I asked, “What do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean. The seeds are in flight, sent off to the heavens. This is a wish in the making.” He followed the line of the seeds with his finger, tracing the path as they curled over my collarbone and danced along the edge of my shoulder.
I wish I knew, I thought.I wish I knew.
Heart thrumming, I folded my hand around his to stop the movement, clutching tightly. My body’s reaction to Kobe’s touchwas both welcoming and uncomfortable. I yearned for more but didn’t know if I’d survive crossing this bridge.
Kobe sat silently. Waiting.
“She never told me. That’s how wishes work, Kobe Haven. If you share them, they don’t come true. Or have you forgotten?”
His eyes smiled, and he squeezed my hand, moving it onto his lap. “You’re right. How silly of me.” Kobe’s attention moved from the ink across my chest to our joined hands. “Can I ask you something?”
“Yes.”
