Make Me Yours(74)

“Hey,” Remi holds up a hand just in front of my lips. “It’s okay. Whatever you want is fine with me.”

Warm hands drop to my waist, and he pulls me closer. “Thank you for being so sweet to her.”

My lips press, and I want to kiss him so bad.

I’m staring at his mouth when he speaks again. “I’d like to kiss you, too, but I’m afraid it might violate your rule… the one where we’re supposed to be thinking about what we want.”

I’m thinking about it… I’m leaning closer when a little voice interrupts our moment.

“Daddy!” Lillie sits up in the bed and we step apart. “Look what Ruby got for me! It’s a puppy! His name is Buddy. He’s a Schnoodle.”

Remi gives me a smile and a light squeeze before going to his daughter. “I think Buddy is amazing. I’ve never heard of a Schnoodle.”

“Isn’t that a funny word for a dog?”

Buddy wakes up and starts hopping all around. “Lillie! He probably needs to pee. Let’s get him outside, quick!”

She jumps up and runs with him to the back door. Remi and I trail behind her, watching as she walks around the small backyard talking to her little companion in the growing twilight.

“It feels right, doesn’t it?”

Remi’s voice is so full of love, it’s like warm liquid in my veins.

I couldn’t agree more.





33





Remi


Lillie spends every afternoon at Ruby’s house now that Buddy is in the picture, and I get daily updates of his house-breaking habits, how my daughter is teaching him to sit, roll over, speak.

According to Lillie, he speaks a lot.

According to Ruby, he’s a smart little dog who’s very good with children.

According to me, this is all fucking amazing.

We’re like a new little family slowly forming.

Far too slowly forming if you ask me. Still, I hold back. I’m giving Ruby the time she needs to think.

Every day when I pick Lillie up before dinner, I can see the progress of Ruby’s painting. She’s added dark navy and maroon poppies around the border. The background is eggshell, with perfectly square brush strokes creating a pattern. The brushwork in the child’s hair is so meticulous and loving, and the strokes down the mother’s back… It’s brilliant.

I’m not an art critic, but Ruby is fucking fantastic.

She’s taking online courses to add art therapy to her skill set, and even though we’re apart, she tells me about it while I wait for Lillie to tell Buddy goodnight when I pick her up.

It takes a half hour for my daughter to be sure her dog (who only lives at Ruby’s house, she notes) knows she loves him and she’ll be back again tomorrow.

I can’t help thinking if this dog is really so smart, he’s already figured it out.

Driving home, Lillie usually dozes, but tonight, she’s unusually vocal. “Daddy, when you were in preschool, were there mean boys?”

I assume this is more Louie bullshit. “Yeah, they usually tried to do feats of strength and stuff like that. Why? Is Louie trying to make you eat something gross?”

“No!” She shrieks, her little nose curling. “I don’t listen to Louie anymore.” Then she gets quiet, and I can tell by her eyes, she’s thinking. “What’s feasts of strength?”

“Feats. It just means boys trying to show off who’s the strongest.” Alpha-male bullshit.

“I think grown-up girls do feasts of strength.” She looks out the window as if she’s done with this conversation.

Not so fast.

“What do you mean, princess?” She does a little sigh, and she’s singing another Disney song I don’t know. “Princess? Are grown-up girls being mean to you?”

My hackles are up, and I’m ready to get to the bottom of this.

Mamma bear? Meet Pappa bear.

“Not to me, Daddy.” She laughs like that’s ridiculous. In my experience, sadly, it’s not so ridiculous. “I think some of the mommies are mean to Ruby.”

If I thought the idea of someone being mean to my kid was bad, I had no idea how I’d react to someone being mean to Ruby. I can only guess it’s because I sense it might be partly my fault.

“Did something happen, baby?”

“Huh uh.” She shakes her little head no. “Ruby always wants to go home real quick. She never talks to Ms. Terry anymore. She says Buddy misses me.”

A knot is in my throat, but I hide it. “I’m sure Buddy does miss you. You’re his favorite human.”

“And Ruby!” My daughter’s voice is shrill and offended.

“Right—of course, I meant and Ruby. I just meant of the humans who don’t live with him.”

“Ruby’s doing a painting. She says it’s me and her.”

The confession cements my resolve. I could see the resemblance as the days passed, but I didn’t know for sure. Mother and sleeping child? Do I need to be hit over the head with a frying pan?

Lillie goes back to singing her Disney song as quickly as she stopped, and as always I’m amazed at how fast my daughter lets go of disagreements once they’re settled. We should all be this way.