“Does it hurt?” Cici asked as she sat beside Melody, trying to concentrate on her sister and daughter, but her mind kept traveling back to the look in Cooper’s eyes when he’d said he felt like he was losing her all over again. If only he knew how she’d clung to the hope that they’d one day come back together. Watching Melody now made her realize that he’d already missed out on too many years with the most incredible daughter a person could have.
“Not anymore.” Tegan sighed. “I’m sorry to ask you to come home. I probably could have handled it until tonight, I just wasn’t sure.”
Cici would have loved a few more hours with Cooper, but she knew better than to cry over what could have been. She’d done enough of that.
“Aunt Tegan said we can have pizza tonight from the deliveryman. We’re getting peppewoni.”
Cici knew she should correct her pronunciation, but she loved the way Melody pronounced some r’s as w’s. It was too adorable to correct. One day she’d speak properly and all these little moments that warmed her heart would be replaced with arguments over curfews and makeup and other teenage complaints. She took her daughter’s hand in hers and pressed a kiss to it.
“I love pizza, so we’ll get a large.” She leaned in close and whispered, “Because Aunt Tegan eats like a horse.”
“Hey, I’m injured. Show some respect,” Tegan said with a smile. She took after their mother and was as fair-haired as Cici was dark. “How do you like your daughter’s outfit?”
“I love it, actually. And you know how she loves girly-girl clothes.”
Tegan patted Melody’s leg. “Melly, can you please run upstairs and get Mommy the doll we made? I bet she’d love to see it.”
“You made a doll, too?” Cici feigned wide-eyed surprise for Melody’s sake. Tegan was so creative. She made most of her own clothing and spoiled Melody with arts-and-crafts supplies every chance she got.
Melody scooted off the couch and ran for the stairs. “I’ll be right back!”
Tegan set a serious stare on Cici. “Give it up quick. I figure we have three minutes, tops, before she comes back down.”
Cici drew in a deep breath, holding her sister’s intense gaze, and said, “I love him, Teg. I know you’ll hate me for it, but I’ve never stopped loving him, and I need to tell him about Melly, but I’m scared shitless.”
“That he’ll take her?” Tegan reached for Cici’s hand and gave it a comforting squeeze.
“No,” she said in a harsh whisper. “Definitely not. He loves me. He’s loved me forever, and I believe him when he tells me that. Tegan, he’s it for me. I know it in my heart and soul.” She glanced up the stairs, then back at her sister. “But I’ve been Mel’s only parent since the day she was born. She doesn’t even ask about her father.”
Tegan pressed her lips together, her brows knitted. “I need to meet him. I’ll know in ten seconds if he’s an honest, trustworthy guy.”
Cici’s shoulders slumped. “He is, Teg. That’s just it. He’s honest, loving, and genuinely sorry. I feel like I was the one who lied this weekend by not telling him about Melody.”
“Found it!” Melody yelled from upstairs.
“I don’t think he’d ever disappear again, not after everything we felt this weekend. He cried, Teg,” she whispered. “He cried as he told me about his father’s death and the years after, and he swears he wants a future with me. But he doesn’t know about Mel.”
Melody came down the stairs waving the doll above her head. “I got it, Mommy. She’s so beautiful. I named her Sarah.” She set the doll in Cici’s hands and plopped on the couch beside her.
Cici ran her finger over the doll’s face, which Tegan had drawn on with permanent marker. She smiled at the wide blue eyes with long, inky lashes and dark spirals of yarn she’d sewn on as hair. It was a simple doll made of the same floral cotton as Melody’s skirt, and it reminded Cici of the dolls Tegan used to make for Melody when she was a baby. Of course, those didn’t have hair, because Cici worried that Melody would choke on it. Tegan used to call those dolls the bald baby tribe.
Her heart tugged with the memory. She’d enjoyed every day of Melody’s life. Every midnight feeding when she was an infant, every unsolicited cuddle, every I love you. She’d even enjoyed the more trying times, the tears and the stubborn two-year-old who’d crossed her pudgy little arms and stuck out that plump lower lip in a pouty face. God, she loved her daughter. As she thought about how much she’d experienced, she thought about how much Cooper had missed. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t soak up every smile, every giggle, when he didn’t even know she existed.
“This doll is just beautiful, sweetie. Aunt Tegan is very talented. You named her Sarah?” She knew what she had to do. She had to call Cooper and tell him about Melody. She couldn’t wait another day. It wasn’t fair. He’d come clean to her about things she knew were far more difficult than admitting she had been blessed with the most wonderful gift on earth. Her eyes skirted the room, looking for her phone.
“You know, Mommy, Sarah. The sister I want.”