Page 72 of Foster

When she’s like, thirty.

Back to the kiss… I tug Mazzy’s wrist. “One kiss.” I point to my mouth. “Right here.”

She wrinkles her nose. “You have cooties.”

“I do not,” I exclaim, affronted by the off-putting word. “My fever is gone and I’m not coughing due to that disgusting stuff you made me drink. Just one kiss.”

Mazzy contemplates by tapping a finger to her chin. She slides her gaze to Bowie Jane. “What do you think?”

“Kissing is gross,” she says with a grimace. “Alicia at school said she kissed Christian on the playground and it was wet—”

“What the hell?” I exclaim as I sit up against the pillows, releasing my hold on Mazzy. “Kissing is absolutely gross. You are not to kiss boys, okay?”

Bowie Jane giggles and Mazzy laughs so hard she doubles at the waist. Giving me a playful tap to my shoulder, she says, “Great job, Einstein. You just ensured that we will have to be Puritan at all times in front of your kid.”

“Okay… no, wait.” I backpedal because I want to be able to kiss Mazzy whenever I feel like it or come up behind her and give her a squeezing hug. I want to be able to do those things in front of Bowie Jane and have my daughter recognize them as signs of love.

Well, not love, but great care and affection.

Maybe love.

Not sure because it’s been so long since I felt that emotion for a woman, and I’m also not sure if what I felt for Sandra was truly love. We were so fucking young and married for the wrong reasons.

What I do know is that I care for Mazzy on such a profound level, it makes me think I never really knew what romantic love was. The genuine kind you share with a life partner, built from shared values, where you put in the hard work to keep it thriving. Because that’s what Mazzy and I have developed.

“How about,” Mazzy suggests with a wink in Bowie Jane’s direction, “we do that thing for your dad that we said we’d do?”

Very cryptic indeed, but it excites my kid. “Yes! Let’s do it.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” Mazzy says and heads up the staircase.

“What are you two up to?” I ask Bowie Jane.

She looks smug but refuses to divulge anything. “You’ll see.”

With Mazzy upstairs, I use the opportunity to check in with my kid. Despite the apparent ease with which she’s supported this thing between me and Mazzy, I never want to assume anything. “Are you really okay with me and Mazzy?”

She looks puzzled. “You mean… like, you’re boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“Yeah. I know it wasn’t easy for you when your mom started dating Chet. But mostly, because it changes the dynamic a little bit between the three of us.”

Bowie Jane’s frown deepens. “What’s a dynamic?”

My kid’s vocabulary is pretty extensive. It’s for this reason I don’t dumb down words for her but make her level up to learn new things.

“In this instance, it means sort of the structure or system we have in place. Specifically, Mazzy came into our lives as a nanny. While she will still be that, she’s now more to me and I think to you as well. Things are changing or evolving.”

Bowie Jane processes that. “I love Mazzy, so it’s no wonder you do too.” I don’t affirm or deny that. Bowie Jane is using the words that make sense to her. “And I can tell she really cares about you. She took really good care of you today and was worried yesterday when you were really sick. I kept hearing her wake up to check on you.”

“You know that no matter what happens between me and Mazzy, you are and will always be my number one priority. The one I will always love the most. I will always choose you above any other, and that includes Mazzy.”

My statement is pointed because while I don’t call her mother out specifically, my commitment to our daughter is in stark contrast to Sandra’s and Bowie Jane knows exactly what I’m saying. I can tell by her expression.

She nods quietly.

“It’s me and you, kid. First and foremost. But I think Mazzy makes our life together better.”

“I do too,” she says.

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