“So,” I say, taking a lick of my ice cream, “my mom and dad came to visit me.” I look at Avery as she licks her ice cream, her nose even getting some. “And they would like to meet you.”
Avery looks at me. “You have a mom and dad, too?” I look at Addison, who just blinks and looks down at her purse. She fidgets with the zipper for a second before I turn back to Avery.
“I do,” I tell her. “Do you want to meet them?” I ask her, really hoping she says yes, because I don’t know what I’m going to do if she says no, thank you.
“Okay,” she agrees as if her world won’t be turned upside down.
“Okay,” I say, breathing a sigh of relief that I didn’t have to beg her to meet them. I smirk and then look up at Addison, who nods at me as if she knows the struggle I’m going through.
In the two seconds I look at Addison, Avery loses the battle on the ice cream. When I look up, her hands are covered in melted ice cream, her chin has drips of it, and somehow, she even got it on her forehead. “Can I go on the slide?” she asks Addison, who grabs the cone from her and gets up to toss it in the bin.
“Let’s clean you up first,” she suggests, opening her purse and taking out a white plastic container.
She opens it and pulls out what looks like a tissue, but I finally get a look at it and see it’s a wet one.
She wipes her face off and then her hands before she kisses her nose. “One time on the slide, and then we go,” she tells her, and Avery nods at her before she runs off.
“Are you okay?” I ask Addison, who nods at me.
“I guess so,” she exhales. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to be or feel. My main concern is Avery.”
“My concern is both of you,” I tell her, and she is about to say something when Avery comes back.
“Did you see me?” she asks me, getting on the seat next to me. “I went the fastest.”
“I did,” I lie to her. “The fastest I’ve ever seen,” I tell her, and she nods at me.
“Let’s skedaddle,” Addison says, making me laugh.
“Skedaddle.” I roll my lips. “That’s a word I haven’t heard in a while.”
“Well, the last time I said let’s bounce,” Addison tells me as we start to walk to the restaurant,
“she thought I was going to bounce her head.”
I laugh as Avery slides her hand into Addison’s and mine. I don’t even have any words to say, I can only look down at our hands that are together. “What is the name of this street, Momma?” Avery asks her.
“Main Street,” she tells her quietly.
“I’ve never been to a town that had a Main Street before,” I add in, and they look at me like I have five heads. “Usually, I’m in big cities.” I look at Addison now. “Why did you choose this town?”
“Um, it seemed like a perfect place to raise her,” Addison replies as she swings Avery’s hand, making her giggle. “Plus, I didn’t know anyone here, so no one would bring up certain people.” She avoids saying her family. “It was a clean start for all of us.” I know it’s not the time and place, but I also have little patience. I also know it’s only a matter of time before I snap and either ask her about it or go behind her back and find out. I would rather not do the latter, but I also know I have to protect my family, which now includes her.
I look up and see my parents standing outside the restaurant. Talking to each other, my father picks up my mother’s hand that is in his and kisses her fingers. Her other hand holds a big bag and I cringe inwardly, not knowing what is inside. “Also, my uncles might come as well,” I mumble to her with no time to spare. She doesn’t have time to say anything. She just looks up at me like a deer in headlights.
“Here we go.”
addison
. . .
T he closer and closer we get to Stefano’s parents, the harder and faster my heart beats. The more my hand starts to sweat, the more my knees start to shake. “Here we go,” I think I hear him say, but the buzzing in my ears takes over.
“There they are.” I look up toward where the man’s voice is coming from and my feet literally feel like they weigh six thousand pounds. He looks over at us and he smiles a great big smile, and you know it’s genuine because his eyes light up. It’s Stefano’s dad, Markos, as he was introduced to me at the wedding. I didn’t know back then he was my daughter’s grandfather, which made it so much less awkward than it is now. He lets go of the woman’s hand, who I know is Vivienne, because she came to me at the wedding to let me know that she wasn’t drunk and asked if I could get her some sweet tea.
She said all of this in French until Zara came along to fill me in.
“Oh mon dieu,” she says in French, and I start to panic, not knowing what she said. What if they hate me? My head screams at me so loud I about have a panic attack in the middle of Main Street.
“Hello,” Markos says when we get close enough. The buzzing in my ears just get louder and louder, and my stomach lurches to my throat.
“Hi,” I say softly as Avery lets go of my hand, no doubt because I was squeezing it too tight.
“Bonjour,” Vivienne says to me. Her blue eyes are almost crystal blue. She comes over to me.
“It’s nice to see you again, Addison,” she says and hugs me, making me stop breathing altogether.
“Thank you for meeting us,” she whispers in my ear and the tears now sting my eyes to come down.
She lets me go and then squeezes my hand, blinking away her own tears before she turns away and looks down at Avery. “Hello, ma puce.” She smiles at Avery, who just looks at her with her eyebrows pushed together. “That means beauty,” she tells her and Avery now smiles big. “I heard that someone is a princess.”
The word is like music to Avery’s ears. “It’s me.” She jumps up. “I’m the princess.” She points at herself.
“Well, a princess has to have a tiara,” Vivienne declares, turning to hold out her hand to Markos, who hands her the blue bag.
It has engraving on the side but I can’t read what it says. I think it’s some sort of fancy writing.
“What is going on?” I look over at Stefano, who smiles at me, but his smile is sort of broken when he sees her move the white tissue paper aside to take out whatever is in the box.
“My mother is… how do I put it.” He thinks for two seconds before adding in, “Extreme.”
I look back over at Vivienne, who pulls a blue box out of the bag, with the emblem also stamped on top of the box. “This tiara,” she says, turning the square box in her hand, “is from Buckingham Palace.” She opens it before she turns it around so Avery can see and so can I.
In the middle of the box, a fucking tiara sits on a white satin pillow. My mouth hangs open as I look down at a diamond fucking tiara. “Is that?” I don’t even know what I’m asking because nothing else comes out. The tiara has diamonds all around it as it works in a pattern, and even little diamond flower shapes are scattered around it.
“Yup,” is the only thing Stefano says, nodding his head.
“Oh my,” is the only thing I can say when she takes it out and places it on Avery’s head. The diamonds shine in the sunlight, and in the middle of the peak of the tiara is a diamond hanging and swinging side to side while Avery looks at me.
“Momma.” She gasps, trying to whisper but failing miserably. “I’m a real princess.” She points at her head. “Look at my tiara.”
I look at her and again the only thing I can say is, “Oh my.”
“Can I wear it to school?” she asks me, and I look at Vivienne, who looks at Avery as if she hangs the moon and the stars. She takes her in as she blinks away the tears in her eyes. It’s a look I wish my own mother had for my child, but somehow this might be even better.
“I think it should be worn on special occasions.” And by that, I say in my head, I mean never out of the house. I can’t even begin to think of how much that cost them. A tiara from Buckingham Palace, my head feels like it will explode.