Page 118 of A Little Naughty

Vivienne looks from Piper to me to Nikki, and her face warms again. “I’d like to stay with my daughter if I can?”

Piper looks at me. “There’s not much room at your place. Maybe Cass could…?”

“I could bring over an air mattress.” Adam volunteers. “If you don’t mind sleeping on the floor.”

“I don’t mind,” Vivienne answers quickly. “I’ve slept on much worse.”

“I’ll go get it, then.” Adam gestures to me. “That’s okay?”

“Of course.” I nod, doing my best to overcome the feelings fighting in my chest.

“I can make dinner!” Nikki’s voice is so loud. She holds her mother’s hand, bouncing up and down as she leads her to the house. “I’ll show you my room, and you can see the pictures I’ve made. And look! This is Porkchop! He’s my best friend.”

Porkchop stands beside her wagging his tail and butt, and not jumping on them like the good dog Nikki trained him to be. My fingers tighten on Raif’s arm, and I inhale a shaky breath.

Happy. I’m supposed to be happy as I watch the two of them going into our small house, our little home where so much has happened. Where we’ve grown so close.

“You okay, girl?” Monay is beside me, studying my face with worried eyes. “Want me to kidnap her and put her on the next bus back to Canada?”

“No…” I try to smile, but tears are in my eyes. “It’s good. It’s what she’s always wanted.”

Piper rubs my back. “Do you want me to tell Cass to come? I’m running Pinky home, and I know she’ll drop everything.”

“No. She needs to take care of her family.” My voice breaks on the word, and Raif puts his arm around my waist, pulling me into his chest.

“We’ll text you,” he answers, and Piper pats me once more.

“I can be here in minutes.” Monay gives my arm a squeeze. “One word.Canada, and I’m here.”

Sniffing, I nod, lifting my head off Raif’s chest. “It’s okay. We need to do this.”

He holds my hand as I force my feet to move.

* * *

Nikki insistson making the shrimp and penne dish Raif taught her for dinner. She has her mother right at her side as she explains every step.

“Did you know a watched pot never boils?” she asks, moving them away from the pot.

“I’ve heard that,” her mother says adoringly.

“It’s true! I tried to watch the pot last time, and I waited and waited, and it never boiled until I walked away.”

Her mother closes her eyes and laughs.

Throughout dinner, Nikki talks nonstop about her friends and school and the Mardi Gras dog parade. Occasionally, she even lapses into a language I don’t understand, and her mother responds, hanging on every word, reaching out to touch her arm, her hand.

Sometimes Nikki gets out of her chair and hugs her, and through my heartache, I see my time with her was only six months out of their life together.

It doesn’t make me feel better, though.

It makes me feel small.

Raif places his hand over mine on the table, and I glance at him. Dinner smells delicious, but I can’t seem to eat any of it. He opened a bottle of red wine, and I’ve had half a glass.

When they finish eating, we go outside so Nikki can show her mom all the tricks she’s taught Porkchop.

“I didn’t know he could sit until Raif told me, and I wasn’t even there!” she gushes.

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