“Brunch is almost ready.”
Claud pauses, then runs toward her grandparents, not wanting to miss out on all the attention.
She climbs on their lap and sits between them, snuggling to get comfortable.
“You look pretty, Grandma.” Claud smiles and runs her hand down Rosa’s dress. Claud’s right, she looks gorgeous, but it’s not a surprise when her doppelgänger is Sofia Loren.
“Thank you, sweetie.” She pulls Claud onto her lap and then leans closer to Javier.
Usually, I love the love they share with Claudina, but now, looking at the three of them like a small, loving family causes a knot to form in my throat.
Am I doing her a disservice by not introducing that kind of affection into our house?
There are plenty of single-parent homes where the child does fine. I know this, but I’ve been actively choosing not to bring a woman into our home.Is that different?
If it weren’t for Rosa and Willa, she would have no women influences in her life being brought up by four men.
It also doesn’t take a scientist to figure out why my thoughts have shifted lately. Even from a few encounters, Juliette Caldwell has left her mark.
“What did you do this morning?” Rosa asks Claud.
“I danced for Mom and told her all about my week,” she tells her as she pets Skye. Oblivious to the instant silence in the room.
Rosa or I frequently bring Claud to Central Park to visit Camila’s memorial stone that’s laid in the ground along the Gilder Run pathway, where Camila often ran.
My brothers disagree with us.
They think, in a way, it’s morbid that Claud goes as often as she does.
Rosa senses the tension, so she asks Claud what dance she did for her mom and requests her to perform it for all of us.
Thankfully, it distracts us for the next half hour.
“Hey,” I catch Seb as he starts packing up his Range Rover, “We good?” I ask.
He nods but gives me nothing more. Not that I expect him to elaborate.
“I—”
“Harrison,” he warns. “I said we’re good, leave it at that.”
“Well, as your older brother, I can say whatever I want.”
He looks at me deadpan. “You’re five days older.”
I shrug. “Older is still older.”
“What are you, two six-year-olds?” Nate calls, though I ignore him as a tutu-clad Claudina comes barreling toward the car, doing pirouettes in between her skips, which gives me a semi-heart attack, though thankfully she makes it to me accident-free.
“Okay,” I bend down so we’re eye to eye, trying to keep my voice even, “You’ll be good for your uncle, right?” I brush her brown syrup-filled hair back from sticking to her face.
“Uh-huh.” Claud nods with enthusiasm. All she cares about is leaving so she can swim in the pool and run in the yard with Skye, who is going out east with them for the week.
“And you’ll call me if you need me at any time. I don’t care if you have a bad dream in the middle of the night. I will always have my phone on.”
“Daddy, I know. I know.”
I kiss her forehead, then her right cheek, her left, then her forehead again for good measure. “When did you become so mature?”
