Henry was already beginning to stir when I walked into his room. I loved sleepy little ones. And that smile of his when he saw me had me forgetting about Leland for a moment. I cuddled him for as long as he would let me. It soothed my heart.
After I got Henry dressed, he zipped down the hall, hoping for another dance party with his uncle. This time to Elton John’s “Rocket Man.” I was beginning to see a pattern here—1970s British rockers. Miles thankfully fulfilled Henry’s wish and they danced around together. I hoped Miles would see how much Henry craved his attention, but like yesterday, as soon as the song was over, Miles set him down and went from fun uncle to brooding writer.
I took Henry into my own arms, trying to bite my tongue.Get the lay of the land first, I heard my dad say. It had only been a few days, I reminded myself. It also reminded me of some of the ideas I had come up with for his social media pages. I had stayed up late into the night, unable to sleep after my phone call with Leland, looking up different celebrities to get some ideas. I also read several marketing blogs about branding.
“Would you be amenable to me filming you each morning during your ritual dance and posting it on social media? I think it would be the kind of engaging content your publisher is hoping for. I also have some ideas for some contests we can run.”
Miles gave it some thought. “Brilliant. We’ll start tomorrow. Have a nice day,” he dismissed me and Henry.
Yep, I stilldidn’t like it.
I didn’t like it even more that every day was the same thing. The only difference was the rest of the week, I used my phone to capture his ritual dance with Henry. It didn’t matter which band, whether it was The Kinks or Queen he sang and danced along to, his fans were eating it up. The shares, comments, and reposts were through the roof. It was a tossup who people found more adorable, Miles or Henry.
I did take note of PWPhotography, whose comments were at the top of every post. That made sense since Miles followed her, and he followed very few people. She left comments like, “Looks like you’re in need of some grown-up time” or “We miss you, darling.” Out of curiosity, I clicked on her profile. I assumed the edgy yet ethereal creature with short, asymmetrical ebony hair and striking violet eyes was the same PW, short for Penelope Williams, who had given Miles the pictures that hung in the hall. I noted the similarities between the photos she posted on Instagram and the ones that Miles had longingly looked at. She had a gift. I wondered how well she and Miles knew each other. Were they lovers, maybe ex-lovers?
What did I care? I was annoyed with him and all the comments about him being the best uncle. I tried not to let them bother me. Maybe he really was. I’d known him all of a week. And I knew he didn’t ask for this responsibility, but he had accepted it. I kept thinking maybe I should say something. Perhaps I should take him up on his invitation to talk to him one night. He seemed frustrated I was always declining. But how would he take some gentle parenting advice? I wasn’t sure.
But on Sunday, when I should have had the day off and he asked me if I could take Henry anyway, I knew that I needed to say something. First, though, I needed to talk to my mommy.
Chapter Twelve
“He’sdarling,”Momcommentedwhile we watched Dad play with Chloe and Henry in the backyard after Sunday lunch. They were teaching Henry the fine art of American football. He had already mastered tackling. He giggled every time he got Chloe to fall. She was faking it all for him. Dad had even let the kids pile up on him. He was in heaven. My parents were still holding out hope for more grandchildren.
I curled up tighter in the afghan I had brought out to sit on the porch swing. We were in the throes of Autumn. You could smell the crisp earthiness in the air. “He is sweet.”
Mom patted my leg. “You seem a million miles away today. What’s wrong?”
I sighed. “Leland is moving back.” I kept my voice low.
Mom’s penciled-in brows shot up to her graying hairline. “I take it Chloe doesn’t know.” She would have said something to my parents already had she known. She told them everything. Like anytime I swore in front of her, or once, when I accidentally set a hot pad on fire. She even tattled on me when I let her eat ice cream for breakfast. All my finest moments over the years.
“I don’tknow how to tell her. He’s not exactly a man of his word.”
Mom’s face pinched enough to highlight all her creases. “Calling him a man is a disservice to his gender,” Mom snarled.
“Agreed, but he’s demanding to see Chloe.”
“Then you demand that he pay you all the child support he owes you.”
“Believe me, I’ll be consulting a lawyer.” Now that I could afford one. “But as far as I can tell from all my online research, I can’t legally prevent him from seeing her.”
“That is ridiculous.”
“What do I do?” I leaned my head on her bony shoulder.
She smoothed my hair. “Tell her the truth. That’s all you can do.”
“What are my other options?” I teased, sort of.
She kissed my head. “That’s a road you don’t want to go down, my love.”
“I know.”
“So, tell me how this new job of yours is going. You’re obviously taken with Henry, and the feeling seems to be mutual.”
I thought back to how Henry sat on my lap during lunch and slathered me with kisses. I watched him and Chloe for a moment. Chloe was gently tossing the ball to him. He kept dropping it, but it didn’t stop him from trying. “He’s pretty much stolen my heart. Chloe’s too.”
“I see that.” I heard the smile in Mom’s voice.
