“A little quieter. Let’s not have Auntie Ella figuring out we’re rebelling, okay?” When he nods, I turn back to Violet. “Alright, baby girl. Let’s see how much banana we can get on your face.”
Three hours and two baths later, Oliver is sound asleep in his bed, and Violet is sleeping on my shoulder, when a very confused Ella stumbles out of her bedroom. “What time is it? Where’s Oliver?”
“It’s nine. Oliver is in bed. He ate two pieces of pizza, somehow got sauce in his hair, got a bath and brushed his teeth while in the tub, then convinced me to read him three books. He fell asleep during the second one, but he made me promise to read all three even if he was asleep. I don’t break promises.”
“Good to know,” she says with a yawn. “Did Violet eat?”
“Finished the whole container, but it’s been a while since I’ve fed an infant, so I’m not sure how much actually made it into her mouth. She also got a bath, then a bottle, and she’s been asleep for about thirty minutes.”
“You made a bottle?” Ella asks incredulously.
I nod. “You know there are directions on the container, right? It’s not like I solved world hunger.”
“How many ounces did you make?”
“Six. Since she did eat some of the bananas, I figured she wouldn’t drink as much formula. In all honesty, googled that part to confirm my suspicions.”
Ella’s lips twitch as she tries to hide a smile. “I appreciate the honesty. Let me put her in her crib.”
As Ella gingerly scoops Violet off my shoulder, I tell her, “I didn’t want to wake you, so I didn’t bring her in.”
“Oh, she’s not in my room anymore. She’s in her crib in her room. The bassinet was only until she was sleeping through the night. Once she did that, and she started trying to sit up during the night, it wasn’t safe in the bassinet anymore. And I wasn’t about to disassemble and reassemble the crib to put it in my room. Frankly, she needed to be in her own space anyway, and I’m relieved to have my room back.”
“Damn, I wish I’d known that. I’d have put her in her crib already,” I reply. Not wanting to be away from Ella, I follow her down the hall and into the small room meant for Violet. “Jeez, this room is tiny.”
“It’s fine for her right now. She really only sleeps in here,” Ella whispers as she bends over the side of the crib to place Violet onthe mattress. “Eventually I’ll clean out the other room and move her in there. I need to go through my sister’s things and get rid of stuff anyway.”
She motions for me to follow her back into the hallway, stopping momentarily to turn on a sound machine. She leaves the bedroom door ajar, then walks back to the living room. “Is there any pizza left?”
“Yeah, I put two pieces on a plate in the microwave for you,” I answer. Something is off with Ella. She’s more subdued than normal. Quiet and somber. “Is your stomach feeling better?”
Ella startles, placing a hand on her abdomen. “Yeah, I guess. Must have been something I ate.”
Sitting on the couch, I wait as Ella reheats the pizza, then comes to sit beside me. I chuckle as I watch her cut the slice with a fork and knife.
“What’s funny?” she asks before shoveling a bite into her mouth.
“Hopefully you’ll find it funny, but I told Oliver to eat his pizza like me, instead of cutting it up. So if he tells you that I taught him that we don’t use knives with pizza, or with food in general, that’s why.”
She smiles faintly. “He’s the one who made me cut it in the first place. He didn’t want to touch the sauce, and hated the feel of grease on his fingers.”
“I think he conquered that fear tonight. Now I think I understand how the sauce got in his hair, since he kept swiping his hand on his head.”
“Hair is an excellent napkin,” Ella muses with a grin, and I’m thrilled to see a bit of sparkle back in her eyes. Maybe she was just hungry.
“While you’re eating, I’d like to explain where I’ve been for the past two months,” I blurt out, suddenly unwilling to wait even a second longer to confess my feelings.
“Alright,” she says hesitantly, her eyes darting to the floor.
“I could tell you were uncomfortable with how often I came into the bookstore, so I decided to give you some time. I figured you wouldn’t answer a phone call, and I honestly don’t care that much for texting, so I didn’t contact you that way either. But then life sort of went off the rails, and I didn’t come up for air for a few weeks.”
“Okay,” she whispers.
“No, it’s not okay. I should have called. Texted. Showed up here. Something. I should have doneanythingto let you know I never stopped thinking about you.” When she doesn’t reply, I reach out to grab her chin, forcing her eyes to mine. “Not just the last few weeks, El. I’ve never stopped thinking of you. You’re the last thing on my mind when I fall asleep, you visit me in my dreams, and I wake up with your name on my lips. Always.”
“Leo,” she says quietly, a sheen of tears glazing over her eyes. “I can’t … this is too much …”
“What is too much?” I ask, my eyes pleading with hers. I cup her cheeks in both hands, leaning over to rest my forehead against hers. “Am I too much?”
