Paul frowns and blinks a few times—unsure if he heard her correctly. “Lick the . . . what?”
“Yes,” I intervene, giving Neena a stern look. “And I told her I wouldn’t let her wear such a thing unless this Zack guy, the lead singer, delivers it to our door himself.” Neena quirks her mouth to the side in mild annoyance.
“Well, I think I’ll be heading home,” Marcus announces as he stands and rubs his stomach a few times. “Excellent pizza, as always,” he teases, smirking at me. Tossing the dish towel in my hands at him, I stick my tongue out.
“Paul,” he says. “If you need a place to stay, let me know.”
“Will do, buddy.” They shake hands and as Marcus leaves, he kisses Neena on the cheek. “Night, kiddo.”
“Night, Uncle Marcus.”
When I hear the front door close indicating Marcus has left, I look to Neena. “Neena you should go get ready for bed, honey.”
“Moommm,” she whines.
“Neennnaaa,” I gripe back.
“I want to talk to Paul some more.”
“Maybe I could come hang out with you tomorrow if that’s okay with your mom?” Paul offers, cutting his eyes to me.
“I’d love that!” Neena practically squeaks. “Can he, Mom?”
As I gaze at both of them, their matching brown eyes watch me, waiting for my reply, I can’t help the feeling of dread that hits me in the gut. I don’t do babies and white picket fences. Neena said she could handle his rejection—if that’s what he gave her, but looking at her wonder-filled gaze, I’m not so sure. Paul has a way about him. It’s hard to explain. He draws you in and sometimes you don’t even realize it’s happened until it’s too late. That’s how it happened to me. But what if he’s sincere? What if he really does want to get to know her? How could I deny my daughter, who may leave this world so tragically soon, this opportunity to get to know her father? I’d be a monster if I did that.
“Sure, we can work something out,” I manage through a forced smile. Neena grins and looks at Paul, who is wearing a matching grin.
She stands and says, “Thanks for coming to dinner. It was really nice to meet you.” Then she reaches out her frail little hand to shake his. Paul glances at her hand, his expression somewhere between pain and happiness, before he takes and shakes it.
“Thanks for taking the time to meet me, Neena. I hope we get to know each other a lot better.”
“Me, too.” Turning to me, she walks toward me, almost skipping, and hugs me. “Thanks, Mom. I love you.”
“I love you, too.” I squeeze her once. “I’ll come up to say good night in a bit.”
With a small wave to Paul, she exits the kitchen, leaving the two of us in yet another bout of awkward silence.
“You’ve done a great job with her,” Paul finally says. “She’s a wonderful girl.”
“Thank you. I got lucky.”
He stands and takes his beer bottle to the trash, dropping it in. “And you’re okay with me seeing her tomorrow?”
Spinning around, I place my hands on the counter and take a deep breath. “I’m trying to be,” I admit. “But honestly . . . I’m scared.”
“Of me?”
“Of you making her fall in love with you then jetting off.”
He sighs and moves to the counter beside me, leaning against it, facing the opposite direction. “I mean it. I want to know her, Clara.”
“Please be careful with her, Paul.” He nods once in agreement.
“So how do we find out if I’m a match?”
“I set up an appointment for you. Tomorrow at nine. Are you staying with Marcus? I can text him the address.”
“Wow. Okay, that was fast,” he sighs. “I’m not sure where I’m staying just yet.””
“Well we’re running out of time,” I state. “I’ve spoken to the office on the off chance you’d show up.” I grab a notepad and pencil out of a drawer and shove it into his hands. “Here. Write down your number. I’ll text you the details and meet you there.”
He jots down his number and watches me for a moment after, his eyes fixed on me. I wonder what he sees. Does he see the woman he once shared a bed with; the youthful and determined Clara? Or does he see the shadow of that woman he used to know? Can he see my fear and worry like a map across my face?
“Okay, I’ll meet you there. And, Clara?”
Crossing my arms, I ask, “Yes?”
“Thanks for letting me come over tonight. Will Neena be with you tomorrow?”
“No,” I answer. “She’ll hang with Marcus at the office until we’re done.”
“Okay. Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He pushes off the counter and I follow him to the door and hold it with one hand as he steps out. He stops and puts his hand against the wood, just as he did when he’d arrived tonight. “This door should go down in history.”