Instead of responding, I nibble on her chin. Then I lightly suck on her skin. “Not even a little bit?”
“Huh?” Her restless hips move on my lap.
“Don’t you like me even a little bit?”
“Very little,” she replies, moaning, and I pull her into a kiss.
When we pull away to breathe, she says, “Maybe I like you a tiny bit more now,” opening a gap between her thumb and index finger.
I kiss the contour of her face as I feel the silky skin under my fingers.
I hope the feeling stays the same when I tell her what I need to.
“Do you mind if I sit with her in the back seat?”
We just picked up Valentina from my mother’s house, and after settling her into her baby seat, Olívia sits next to her.
Nina is hyper at this hour because she just woke up from her afternoon nap. It takes a while after we get home and I give her a bath and dinner for her to start feeling sleepy. We usually need a few rounds of playtime before that.
“Dadadadadadada . . .”
“I’m happy to see you too. I missed you so much!”
My daughter claps and lets out a little squeal as if satisfied with Olívia’s response.
“Did you fasten your seatbelt?”
“Yes, we can go. Ready for the ride, Princess Nina?”
Another series of squeals and little feet swinging, and then I know we’re ready.
As I drive, I occasionally glance in the rearview mirror. Olívia seems completely absorbed with Nina, and it touches my heart. It’s inevitable that I compare the way she treats my daughter to the rejection Valentina suffered from her mother even in the womb.
“What does she eat at night?”
“Soup, usually. She’s a good eater.”
“Do you cook?”
“No. I have a nutritionist who plans her menu for the week, and a cook who prepares her fresh meals every day, but since Nina has been staying at my mom’s house, I haven’t needed their services. Mom sends her dinner home in that pink thermal bag.”
“Your mom loves her granddaughter,” she says. “She didn’t seem surprised to see me on a weekday, Guillermo. Why is that?”
“I told her you were coming with me.”
I think she wants to ask more, but she changes the subject. “You’re lucky to still have your mother.”
“Yes, I am. She’s very strong. It hasn’t been easy dealing with my father’s physical deterioration.”
“I can imagine. It’s awful to see our loved ones suffer.” Her hand comes to rest on my shoulder in a sympathetic squeeze.
Olívia is very sensitive. Despite the first impression she gave of being a bit crazy, albeit a good girl, today I see much further. My little firecracker is filled with love, and that’s what I’m betting on for her to forgive me.
“Thank you for coming with us today.”
Through the rearview mirror, I see she was shaking a teether in front of Nina, but she stops. “Why now all of a sudden?”
“Did you want to be there?” I counter instead of answering.
