Page 82 of One-Star Romance

Gabby drew a sharp intake of breath at the sight of her daughter, and Christina looked over to her. As Gabby gave an encouraging nod, Christina twirled around. “Look at my costume,” she said.

“It’s beautiful,” Gabby said, her voice catching.

“Clara was so excited for Christmas and loved to look at the tree,” Natalie said, pointing Christina in the right direction, and Christina went and stood by the Christmas tree as they’d practiced earlier. “And their family had lots of guests come over to celebrate.”

Rob swung open the coat closet door again and came marching out wearing one of Angus’s ill-fitting work blazers, only the slightest hint of self-consciousness on his face. He went over to Christina and swept into a deep bow, holding out his hand. Laughing, she placed her hand in his, and he swung her around the room. Never in a million years would someone mistake him for a professional dancer, Natalie thought, covering her smile, but he threw himself into the task at hand. He had a look of concentration on his face, even as a lock of his hair fell forward into his eye, and something in Nat’s chest swelled at the sight of him. He’d be a good father, she thought suddenly, if he ever wanted that for himself. And then for the briefest, strangest moment, an image flashed into her mind of the two of them taking a child to a pumpkin patch. What the hell? The last time Natalie had done anything remotely autumnal, it had involved going to a pop-up “pumpkin patch experience” in LA with some friends from the show. They’d spent the whole time directing her to take photos of them holding up various gourds in a carefree way.

Rob looked over at her and raised an eyebrow. Right, because she had another line to deliver. She blurted, “And then the creepy toymaker slash magician slash random old man who was somehow friends with Clara’s family had a special gift to give her.”

“Herr Drosselmeyer is not creepy,” Gabby said. “He’s her godfather!”

Natalie shot her a look.

“Okay, he’s a little creepy,” Gabby admitted.

Rob reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small toy nutcracker, because of course Gabby and Angus had a toy nutcracker among their pile of Christmas decorations.

“Clara was so happy with her gift, she just had to dance,” Natalie said, jumping and doing a little twirl as she indicated Christina should follow, and Christina began to hop in a kind of mad glee, clutching the toy so hard Natalie thought she might break it. On the couch, Gabby watched her daughter, rapt, as Angus sat next to her, holding her hand, looking back and forth between his two girls. From the expression on Gabby’s face, the New York City Ballet had nothing on this thrown-together pantomime. And they hadn’t even gotten to the good stuff yet.

“And then it was time for the guests to go, and Clara fell asleep,” Natalie said.

Christina hesitated, putting her fingers in her mouth.

“Right over here by the Christmas tree, she fell asleep,” Rob said, pointing to a cushion on the floor, trying to get her to move.

Christina stood stock-still, working something out in her mind. “I want to watch Blippi,” she said.

“Honey,” Angus said. “Let’s do this fun performance first!”

Christina began to toddle over toward the basement, where Gabby and Angus kept their biggest TV. Angus jumped off the couch and made to go scoop her up, but she swatted him away. “Blippi!” she wailed.

“But—”

“Now!”

Angus looked at the others helplessly, then back at his daughter, who had taken off in the direction of the steps. “Wait,” he yelped. “Okay, maybe just one video, and then we’ll come back.”

The door slammed behind them, leaving Rob and Natalie standing in front of Gabby, flat-footed. In the silence that followed, the music reached a useless crescendo. Natalie reached over to pause it, cutting off the strings and bells as they blared.

“Sorry,” Natalie said. “We practiced a lot more…” She trailed off. In the ensuing silence, the faint sounds of some godforsaken children’s program rose from the basement.

Gabby folded her hands in her lap and looked down at them. “It’s like she doesn’t even realize that I might be dying,” she said. Then she lifted her head back up and fixed them both with an almost mischievous look. “What a little idiot.”

They all began, slowly, to laugh. A laugh that gathered momentum like a train speeding down a hill until they were shaking with it. Natalie had to brace herself on the stair railing. Even Rob was overcome in a way she’d never seen before, and the sight of him doubled up made her laugh even harder.

“We spent hours practicing the rest of it,” she wheezed. “Rob even learned a little bit of the choreography. It was going to be very moving.”

“No,” Rob said. “It’s better for everyone that Gabby doesn’t have to see that.”

“Christina’s screwing me out of a chance to watch Rob humiliate himself? That’s the real tragedy here!” Gabby managed to force out amid peals of laughter. “I guess we can forgive her since she’s only three.” And then she froze, like she’d just registered her own words. Almost in slow motion, her face crumpled. “She’s only three,” she repeated, and began to weep. “I don’t want to…” But she couldn’t get the rest of the sentence out. Her body shook with great, racking sobs.

Natalie and Rob looked at each other. Then, in unison, they ran to the couch, one of them on each side of Gabby. “I know,” Natalie said, taking Gabby in her arms, unable to stop her own tears from beginning to fall as her best friend cried into her chest. “I know.”

Rob tentatively patted Gabby’s shoulder, and she reached out a hand to meet his, pulling him in too, so that the three of them were smushed into a Gabby sandwich on the couch. They stayed like that for a long time, not speaking. As stupid fucking Blippi blared in the basement, they held one another tight, facing down a terrifying tomorrow.

34

That night, Rob lay in bed in the guest room unable to sleep. An hour had passed since he turned off his light, and all he’d been able to do was toss and turn and worry. Just like last night and the night before. With a sigh, he flicked the light back on and attempted to read one of the novels he’d brought. It was too complicated, the author too impressed with his own intellect. Rob let out a groan and tossed it aside.

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