* * *
“Does your bunny have a name?” Tom asked as his daughter stared up at him, her eyes wide and bright.
They were sitting on a worn blanket on the floor of Doug’s old shed. There was a nip in the air, so Tom had draped his jacket over Reine’s shoulders. The garment swamped her, but she didn’t seem to mind, and it was keeping her warm. More than that, Tom couldn’t deny the flash of pleasure it gave him to see his child wearing his clothes. If he’d helped to raise her, he would have already draped her in his jackets and sweaters, his scarves and hats. Even Doug’s old vest, which Tom kept in a closet at home, would have been pulled over Reine’s head. Tom could picture it now, his daughter as a small toddler, stumbling around while Doug’s vest dragged on the ground, his mother taking endless photographs of Reine in Grandpa’s clothes. He and Ari would be laughing in the background, Ari’s arm wrapped around his waist and the sweet smell of her hair in his nose. Tomsighed, an ache suddenly building within him. He’d missed out on so much.
But there wasn’t time to think about the ifs and buts and onlys. Reine was here, and so was he, and he needed to make up for the years he had missed.
“Or is she just called Bunny?” he added gently, reaching out to pull on one of the pink rabbit’s ears.
“Margaret Thutcher,” Reine replied seriously, hugging her bunny close.
“Margaret Thutcher?” Tom asked, raising an eyebrow, and Reine nodded.
“Uncle Sebastian named her. He says girls need a role model to look up to.”
“So... Margaret Thutcher,” Tom repeated, still sceptical, and watched as his daughter nodded. He gave her a smile. “Okay. Margaret Thutcher. I like it.”
“Do you like bunnies?” Reine asked him, and he paused for a moment, pondering her question seriously.
“I don’t know,” he finally answered. “I’ve never had one. I like your bunny though. Margaret Thutcher.”
“I like ponies too,” Reine told him. “My Little Pony is my favourite.”
“I’ve heard of that,” Tom said. One of his colleagues at work once told him that he had a daughter who talked non-stop about My Little Pony. She was always asking for the newest toy or T-shirt. Tom made a mental note to ask his colleague where he could get the same. He’d buy Reine the entire range.
“I think I’ve seen them advertised.”
“I like Pinkie Pie the best,” Reine said. “Or maybe Fluttershy.”
“Okay,” Tom nodded, although he had no idea what she was talking about now. “What else do you like?”
“What do you mean?” Reine asked, wrinkling her nose in confusion. She looked so much like Ari for a moment that Tom had to stop and take a breath.
“I mean . . . what’s your favourite food?”
“Chocolate biscuits,” Reine answered, without missing a beat. “But my mummy doesn’t let me eat them. I’m not normally allowed treats. When she’s around, that is.”
Tom frowned. “What do you mean, when she’s around?”
For a moment Reine’s face clouded. “Mummy works a lot.”
Tom felt his stomach sink.
“She works?” he asked, keeping his voice light.
“All the time,” Reine complained. “She and Uncle Sebastian are always away at weddings, or away planning weddings. I have to stay with my Tío Luis then. I don’t mind, we have lots of fun and he takes care of me,” Reine added loyally, though her words made Tom hate Luis De León intensely at that moment, “I just wish Mummy was around more. I like it when there are no weddings, and she can be a normal mummy. Not working Mummy.”
Tom sat back, deflated. “I’m sorry your mom has to work, sweetheart.”
Reine looked up at him, her eyes suddenly brighter. “At least I’ll have you now as well,” she said. “That’s what daddies do, right? They help?”
Her words were a question that tore at Tom’s heart. All of a sudden, he felt an almost violent protective instinct roar through him.
“That’s right,” he told her, keeping his voice light. “I’ll be there from now on. I’m going to help.”
He meant every word. He would ask his work for a transfer to the London office. He would pick Reine up from school. He would spend time with her on weekends. He would financially contribute to lift the burden from Ari’s shoulders.Fuck UncleSebastian and Tío Luis,he thought angrily. He would be the father in Reine’s life from now on.
Reine nodded, sitting back and clutching Margaret Thutcher to her small body. “Good. Mummy will like that.”
