So far, I haven’t gotten much information. There were some paparazzi photos of Ronan and Belle going grocery shopping. She looked so cute in the cart. It made me smile to know that they were still together, that Belle’s mom hadn’t taken her back immediately.
And then there were a bunch of photos of Ronan coming out of a meeting with a lot of men in suits. Belle’s mom was there, looking glamorous in a black dress and oversized sunglasses. Belle wasn’t with them. I wondered what the meeting was about. And I prayed that Ronan could keep Belle. For good.
I finally slammed my laptop shut and vowed not to go on to those sites again, especially when I still saw the horrible rumors about me when I did. The fact that I’m searching on creepy tabloids for any glimpse of Ronan tells me all I need to know.
It’s over. I need to move on.
And apparently, I’m moving on with the keys to a new studio.
Ronan may not keep in touch well. But I can’t fault him for his gift-giving skills.
Still, as much as I wish I could keep this insanely generous gift, I can’t. It wouldn’t be right. After Christmas, I vow to figure out a way to pay him back. Maybe with his rent-to-own lease suggestion. I do like the idea of my “mortgage” payment going to my kids at the center every month.
But if Ronan believes in me so much that he’d buy me a building, then I need to learn from that example. I need to make my own dreams come true, minus my one little dream of having Ronan and Belle for myself.
CHAPTER33
4 DAYS TO CHRISTMAS
Ronan
I can’t figureout the best way to say it, so I tell Belle the news while we’re making dinner.
“Am I really going to live with you, Daddy?” Belle asks tremulously, as if she doesn’t quite trust it.
I try to keep my voice steady, holding back my emotions. “Yes.”
“Truly?” she asks.
“Truly,” I say to Belle.
I’m paying lavishly to have the contracts and paperwork drawn up right away. It’s my Christmas gift to us. There are still a lot of legal hoops to jump through, but I’m meeting Claire’s demands, adding in even more incentives, and I now believe we’ll get there. I never thought I’d be a dad. And I worried I wouldn’t be good enough because I’d never had a functional family of my own to draw inspiration from, but Poppy taught me that I didn’t have to be perfect. I just had to show up, day after day, and give this my everything. Give Belle my love.
Her smile matches mine, full of relief and joy.
“Yes!” she cries and punches her fist in the air.
Then she’s in my arms, and I catch her up and spin her around. She laughs and laughs.
I set her back down, and I turn back to the stove. It’s just pasta and a jarred sauce, but she likes it, especially when I add some cream, butter the noodles, and grate fresh Parmesan cheese on top. I’m on Christmas holiday, so I’m giving myself a break.
“Like Poppy’s spaghetti,” Belle says with satisfaction when I add the cheese.
Her hair is in a simple braid that I made this morning, wisps now sticking out of it. She’s starting to lose her obsession with fancy hairstyles, thank God, and has switched to wearing cat-ear headbands. Every day. We’re amassing a collection of them.
We also added a few more stuffed animals, including the corgi Poppy got Belle for Christmas. I let her open the gift on the plane back to LA. I know we should have waited until Christmas, but it was an emergency.
I haven’t taken Poppy’s advice, however. No live puppies have been acquired.
I’m still wrapping my head around the pet thing because our life will be nomadic for a while yet, though I’ve been working with my agent to get out of most of my current commitments. I’ll still do the finalWanderersmovies, but when the last one’s done, I can pick my assignments more carefully, perhaps only selecting projects that shoot in the summer, so Belle won’t miss school. Or maybe I’ll do a television series on a set in LA. The future is wide open, and for once, I’m not walking it on my own.
It’s Belle and me. We’re a package deal.
We finish eating and clean up together. When we’re done, I give her a high five. “It’s me and you, kid,” I say. “We make a good team.”
She tilts her head.
“Only…does it have to be, Daddy?”
