Margot nodded. “Yes, please.”
“I’m a little rusty,” I said, my voice rough. “But here goes.”
I took a breath and began to sing softly, the words of ‘Fais dodo, Colas mon p’tit frère’ coming back to me like they’d never left.
Margot’s eyes drifted closed, her breathing deepening, her small face relaxing the way it had when I’d sing to her all those years ago.
When I finished, the room was quiet except for the cricket outside, still singing into the night.
“That was perfect,” Mia whispered. “Thank you.”
“Thank you for asking me,” I whispered back.
“Goodnight, Vance,” Mia said, settling into her pillow.
“Goodnight, Mia.”
I started to stand, careful not to make a sound, when Margot’s small voice stopped me.
“Goodnight, Papa.”
An answered prayer. I had to swallow hard before I could respond. “Goodnight, mon cœur . Sleep well.”
I made it to the door before I had to stop, one hand braced on the frame, trying to hold myself together.
I was Papa once again. The very best job in the whole world.
Lila waited for me at the bottom of the stairs. I made it to the last step and pulled her to me, then sat and buried my face in her shoulder and wept. Silent sobs so the girls wouldn't hear me. My tears soaked through her blouse and into her skin, but she did not let go, and I imagined she absorbed them into her own bones so that I would no longer carry this burden alone. The grief I'd held for so long—that I'd learned how to live with—had made me forget what it felt like before Nicole had taken the person I loved most in the world away from me. And now, finally, by some miracle, I'd been given a second chance with my child.
I cried until there were no more tears left. And Lila just hung on, as if for dear life. When I finally lifted my head, it was to find her eyes staring right into mine. Those blue eyes that had beguiled me even in her photos, even before I understood what she would mean to me. How entwined we would become.
“Lila, I can’t quite believe it’s all true.”
“I can imagine.” Lila smiled, caressing the sides of my face with both her hands. “But it was real. I saw you. You were there, sitting on the floor, singing a French lullaby as if you’d written it just for her. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful.”
“It was all Mia—” My voice broke, tears starting again. “She suggested it. Like God whispered the idea in her ear.” I pulled back to look at her. “She said it would make Margot feel more at home. Who, at fourteen, has that much empathy? I’d not believe she were for real if I didn’t have her mother in my arms. Because now I know, there are two of you. And I’m in your home. With my daughter. Do you know how long six years is when you’re away from your child?”
Before she could answer, I stood, lifting her easily and wrapping her legs around my waist, kissing her. I kept kissing her as I crossed the room to the couch. We sank into it, half-wild, hands desperate and trembling—until, finally, she came to her senses.
“Not like this,” she said, panting, placing her hands on my shoulders. “One of them could wake.”
I fell to the floor in front of the sofa, resting my overheated face in my hands. “You’re right.” I looked up at her. She was curled up in a ball now, her legs crossed and close to her chest, her eyes enormous. “You make me lose all sense of control.”
Her mouth fell open slightly. She licked her top lip. I nearly lost my mind.
“There’s time for all this soon,” Lila said. “And God, I wish it was now, but it’s not right. The timing’s not right.”
I chuckled, joining her on the couch, pulling her onto my lap. “You’re right. You always seem to be. And we cannot jinx the perfect timing we seem to have going for us. Right?”
Her eyes glistened. “Yes. We have it going for us. Everything lining up. When I’ve been so lonely. So afraid. All the time. Now here you are, making my house seem too small.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
She shook her head. “No. It’s a good thing. It means I’ve let you in. I opened that door and let you walk right in. To my home. My safe haven. Into my daughter’s life.”
“This day. None of it would have worked if she hadn’t been with us,” I said. “Sweet, smart Mia. And you, Lila. Your heart is so big and open.”
“It’s trite to say,” Lila said, “but I keep thinking I’ve dreamt you up. But no, you’re actually here.” She pinched the skin on one of my wrists. “See there. Real flesh.”
