“I’ll contribute to chores, yes, but I’m not doing yours for you.”
She narrows her eyes at me. I narrow mine back.
She sniffs. “I’m sleepy. Can I keep asking questions while we walk home?”
Dom kisses her head. “Let’s go.”
Frankie climbs into Dom’s arms, who holds her like he probably did when she was a toddler. I pick up her lavender glitter backpack, put her space encyclopedia in it, hoist my bag over my shoulder, and together, we all leave the bar.
“Will you come to Christmas? Do we have to get you a Christmas gift? Will you get me a Christmas gift?”
I look at Dom, who grins.
“I’ll take that one,” Dom says. “Lina is invited to Christmas. Yes, we have to get her a Christmas gift.”
“And yes, I will get you both a Christmas gift,” I add on.
“Will you teach me how to read?”
“Absolutely. One hundred percent. We can start tomorrow morning.”
“Do you have a family? Do you have a mommy or a daddy? Will they join our family, too?”
I pause, wondering if I should just swan dive right into my familial trauma right now as she’s half asleep, or if it will be more of a cannonball, or a belly flop?—
“That’s a very personal question, Frankie,” Dom cuts in, after sensing my hesitation. “Remember what we said about asking personal questions?”
“I have a mommy,” I decide to tell her. “I don’t have a daddy. But my mommy would be very happy to meet the two of you soon.”I think.
Frankie is satisfied with this answer and tucks her face into Dom’s neck. “That’s kind of like me. I have a daddy and I don’t have a mommy. But it’s okay. Daddy always says that what makes a family isn’t the number of people. It’s how big their love is. We’re small, but we have big love.”
I think there might be some sort of new strain of seasonal allergies, autumnal pollen or something, because both Dom and I get something in our eyes.
* * *
She passes out in Dom’s arms six minutes into the walk.
He tucks her straight into bed as soon as we get into their apartment. I put our stuff down and immediately look for some sort of chore to busy my hands with, but the place is immaculate. This is really the first time I’ve had the chance to look around, so I allow myself to do so.
The place seems to be approximately the same size as the guesthouse, funnily enough, except with the railroad style layout typical of older townhouses in this area. If I remember correctly, Oliver’s parents have owned this building since the eighties, so I assume Dom rents from them. The apartment is well-maintained and seems recently renovated, the kitchen and living room having more modern, clean looking appliances and detailing. The furniture here, similar to that of the beach house, seems expensive yet well-made and high-quality and durable.
This is the moment that I put two and two together and realize that Dom hasmoneymoney.
You go, girl, I think, like a shallow hag.
But what I like the most about this situation, however, is that Dom has never for a second flaunted this. My first impression of him was that he competed in some sort of sketchy underground MMA ring for money, for fuck’s sake. But even as I got to know him, he continued to be the most down-to-earth dude who felt uncomfortable talking about the parking spot he had for his electric car.
I learn that this personality trait extends into his home, because regardless of the tasteful and high-quality furnishings, it’s still cozy. It feels like a home, well lived in. Frankie’s drawings are hanging, some framed. I spot a stray sock under the couch. Bits of glitter or sequin everywhere, on her backpack, her sneakers, on a jacket hanging by the door. There are photos of their familyeverywhere, but it’s hard to know what there are more of, photographs orbooks. Because there are books tucked into every visible shelf and nook and cranny in this place. A few inches between a candle and a plant? Perfect spot for a pile of books. Under a side table? Hardcover picture books have clearly been crammed in there by Frankie.
I’m in the middle of feeling a little off-kilter, filled with an uneasy, expansive feeling, like I’m about to float away, when a strong pair of arms wraps around me from behind and tethers me to the earth.
“Verdict?” Dom whispers into my ear.
“Are you rich?” I blurt out.
He laughs. “Define rich.”
“So yes.”
