Ava and Bellastand in the doorway, watching us with wide eyes.
They’re both clearly surprised, but Bella is having the more…powerful reaction.
A fact she proves as she sticks out her tongue and makes another gagging sound so loud and visceral, I point a finger at her face and warn, “Bella, don’t. You’re going to make yourself sick. And if you make yourself sick, you can’t have pizza. And I know you want pizza.”
She presses her lips together, wrinkling her nose before announcing, “Okay, but no licking, Daddy. Licking is gross.” She sighs, clearly disturbed as she continues her lecture, “We don’t lick our friends. We keep our tongues to ourselves. If you keep licking her, you’re going to make Clover feel sick, too!”
Clover snorts in amusement. “It’s okay, Bella. Daddy doesn’t make me feel sick. I really like your daddy. And I like the way he kisses me. Sometimes, when grown-ups really like each other, they kiss like that. It’s not a big deal.”
Ava’s eyes get even bigger. “Really?”
I nod. “Yeah.” I glance Clover’s way before I add, “I mean, it is kind of a big deal, because I really like Clover, too.” I take her hand, loving the way her fingers thread through mine. A united front, we turn back to the girls. “But it’s nothing you guys need to be upset about, I promise. Now, who wants salad while we wait for the pizza to finish cooking?”
“I do,” Bella cheers, her disgust a thing of the past as she hurries over to the table. “I love salad! Clover, did you put broccoli in it this time?”
“I did,” Clover says. “And edamame, the little hard green beans you like.”
Bella cheers again, but Ava continues to hesitate at the door, prompting me to ask, “Is everything okay, Ava? If you have more questions about Clover and me, you can ask them. That’s fine.” We didn’t plan on having the “we’re more than friends” talk with the girls tonight, but now that we’ve been caught, I don’t see any other choice but to face it head-on.
“Okay,” Ava says, propping one foot on top of the other as she leans against the doorframe, tugging on her ear the way she used to do when she was feeling stressed out as a toddler. Usually, because Bella was wailing her head off for hours on end.
Having a baby with colic and an eighteen-month-old with a sensitive soul wasn’t easy on any of us. There were times when Ava would catch sympathy tears, Frederica would lose it, too, and I’d have to fight like hell not to join the sob fest. Two babiesthatclose together were never the plan, but condoms break, and apparently, breastfeeding one baby doesn’t provide as much protection from getting pregnant again as Frederica assumed.
But no matter how hard things were for a while there, we never regretted keeping Bella. The girls have grown up like twins, so close and bonded that they often seem to know what the other is thinking without either of them saying a word.
Like now, when Bella says in a soothing voice, “It’s okay, Ava. Don’t be sad.”
Frowning, I glance between them. “Are you sad, Ava?” I ask, chest aching as she fixes her gaze on the floor before giving a small nod. “I’m sorry, honey. Can I come give you a hug?”
She nods again, and I cross the kitchen in a flash, scooping her into my arms and hugging her tight. “Why are you sad, sweet girl? What’s wrong? You know I can care about lots of people at the same time, right? Just because I really like Clover doesn’t mean I love you any less. I always love you and Bella so much that words aren’t big enough to say how big.”
She pulls back, her little face so serious it breaks my heart even before she says, “It’s not that, Daddy. I just… I don’t want to forget Mommy.”
My throat instantly caves in on itself, every muscle and tendon pulling so tight, my words emerge as a rasp as I assure her, “You won’t ever forget, Mommy, honey. And neither will I.”
“But if we all get so happy together, we might forget,” Ava says, her eyes shining. “Sometimes, I forget already, Daddy. I forget, and I feel bad and sad and think Mommy would be disappointed in me.”
“Oh, baby, no. Mommy isnotdisappointed in you. Not even a little. She loved you so much and only wants you to be happy,” I rush to assure her. “And you’re never bad, sweetheart, not even when you make mistakes. You’re such a good, smart, sweet kid and an amazing daughter and big sister and person, and I love you so much.”
“Your daddy’s right, Ava,” Clover says, appearing beside us. “You’re one of the best people I know. And I would never try to take your mommy’s place, okay? The relationship I have with you and with your daddy is something different. It’s special in a way that will never make the bond you had with your mom less special. Not ever. I promise.”
Ava nods, the tension easing from her features, though she still looks shier than usual as she asks, “Pinkie swear?”
Clover extends a curled pinkie finger. “Pinkie swear.”
Ava hooks her finger through Clover’s, and Clover leans in, kissing Ava’s forehead. “Pinkie swear, and a kiss for luck. Now, how about a salad for you withnobroccoli? Because I know you’re not as much of a fan as Bella.”
Ava nods, happily squirming free of my arms as Clover heads for the counter. “Yes, please. No broccoli and no cucumber. I don’t feel like cucumber tonight.”
Bella snorts. “You’re silly. Cucumber is always good, and broccoli is the best.”
“No, it’s not,” Ava insists. “Broccoli makes me have sharp toots.”
I snort as I turn around, amazed all over again at how fast the girls can have me careering from the verge of tears to laughter. “Sharp toots?”
“Toots that poke too hard,” Ava says matter-of-factly. At my apparently confused expression, she arches her brows and adds, “Oh, come on, Daddy. We all know a sharp toot when we feel it.”
That gets us all laughing, Bella and me and Clover, who already has salads plated for the girls and delivers them to the table before asking, “Should we have dinner music?”
