Page 37 of Mind

Her little lip forms into a pout. “But I thought when you get married you get to have babies,” she stops and crosses her arms over her chest.

I take a deep breath. “Well, that’s true. You can have a baby when you’re married, and when Uncle Chase and Aunt Gigi decide to do that, you’ll be one of the first to know, okay?” I tap her nose lightly. She giggles and wipes it with her sleeve.

“Okay,” she spins on a toe and runs over to Chase. He catches her and lifts her up into his arms effortlessly. Since Phillip’s hospitalization three weeks ago, we’ve only had Anabelle a couple nights and we watched her at Phil’s house, but during those times, she’s become Chase’s little sidekick. This time, we’ll have her through Monday when we drop her off at her preschool.

“Alright Miss Anabelle, if you could do anything today, anything in the whole wide world, what would it be? Uncle Chase will make it happen,” he says with a great deal of bravado.

Anabelle puffs out her bottom lip. Oh man, she’s bringing out the big guns. No man or woman has been able to deny the full pout with lip tremble. “I wanna see my Daddy,” she announces then hides her face into the crook of Chase’s neck.

I rush over and rub her back. “Oh Angel, you know he misses you. He’s just healing from the accident and will be home really, really soon.” My voice is scratchy and low, but I do my best to convey a positive outlook.

Anabelle raises her head and looks at me with giant, bright blue, teary eyes. “But how come I can’t see him? Lots of people go to doctors and people come and bring flowers, and balloons, and crayons, and even dollies. I want to bring Daddy my dolly and then maybe he’ll get better really, really fast!” she exclaims, and it breaks my heart in two.

We all wish we could just make Phil wake up from his coma. The doctors don’t know why he hasn’t woken up yet. The swelling in his brain has completely healed, his lungs are doing well, he’s breathing on his own and his body is accepting the medication well. Vitals are all great but he still hasn’t opened his eyes.

“Baby girl, as soon as Daddy says it’s okay for you to visit we’ll bring you. I promise.” My shoulders slump, weighed down by the heavy load of telling Phil’s daughter what his grandparents and I agreed on. Phil wouldn’t want her to see him like that or worry.

Chase’s eyes are sad at first but I see the moment they change. His stance gets a little stronger and he lifts his body to his full height. He’s taking one for the team. “How about an ice cream sundae with all the toppings? I believe Bentley has prepared a magical ice cream feast for you!” Her eyes widen and she kicks her legs to be let down.

“Really? I’m going to try and find him! Don’t show me where he is!” she exclaims playing her own game of seek and find as opposed to hide and seek.

Chase places an arm over my shoulders then pulls me into a hug. “It’s going to be okay.”

“I know it just…it hurts. Phil needs to wake up. Anabelle needs her father, and I need my best friend. Bree needs her guy, more now than ever before,” I say into my favorite place. That warm spot where shoulder meets neck. Chase smells divine with his woodsy citrus scent, much sharper with the addition of sweat from golfing a quick nine holes this morning.

“Why more now, than ever before,” he pulls back a foot and looks into my eyes.

I close my eyes and take a breath. “I didn’t realize I never told you. Bree’s pregnant.” His mouth turns into an ‘O’ shape. “It’s really early. Couldn’t be more than a month along.”

Chase hugs me hard. “That motherfucking stalker is going to hell and I plan to be the one to send him there.” His body is stiff, and I can feel the heat start to surge in a halo of fiery tension around his entire body.

With slow movements, I run my hands up and down his back, over his arms and clasp his hands. “Not today you’re not. You have your soon-to-be niece to impress with giant mounds of ice cream.”

A small grin slips across his lips then he pecks me once, twice, three times before leading me down the hall to the kitchen. Little peals of laughter can be heard as we get closer. It’s the most wonderful sound. I’m convinced that a child’s laughter could heal all wounds.

Anabelle and Bentley are making not one but two different sundaes each. Bentley surprised her with multicolored whipped cream. She’s currently adding blobs of the blue cream to one sundae while biting her lip in concentration.

“That looks pretty good. Is one for me?” I ask knowing it wasn’t. Anabelle looks at her two treats speculatively.

“Can I have more if I finish mine?” She asks Chase,notme. She knows my answer would be a resoundingno.

“Of course,” Chase offers casually. I roll my eyes wondering if this is how it’s going to be when we have kids. They ask and he gives them everything on a silver platter.

Anabelle pushes the sundae that looks like a rainbow exploded on it toward me. “You could have this one. Bente,” she says instead of Bentley. “Can I have another bowl for Uncle Chase?”

“Oh honey, I don’t need ice cream,” he says patting his chiseled abs. I know he works really hard for those abs, and I appreciate them more than anyone. However, Chase has already had four homemade cookies with his coffee this morning. Anabelle studies Chase, looking at him in that “adults just don’t understand the important things in life” type of expression.

“Everyone needs ice cream. It’s like, the most bestest thing ever.” She shakes her head and starts filling the empty bowl. Every so often she licks her fingers removing little bits of the candy and cream, double dipping happily into each bowl before adding the topping to her creation.

I laugh and happily eat mine. The extra calories can do nothing but set me on the path to getting back to normal.

“Here Uncle Chase, its perfect. See, I used all the blue candies and cream because you’re a boy. Boys like blue,” she finishes with a stiff nod.

“Well, I can’t pass up a treat from a beautiful girl now can I? Thank you, Miss Anabelle.”

Chase and Anabelle talk animatedly as I sit back and enjoy them. They’re quite a pair. I have to admit, I’m surprised by how calm and at ease Chase is with her. He’s a natural. Even when she’s jabbering non-stop he’s patient and pays attention to everything she says. During the times that Anabelle is with us, Chase seems carefree, laughs more, smiles a lot and seems beyond happy. Is this what our life will be like when we have a child? I can’t help but dream of our own little mini-Davis’s. Hopefully, our first will be a boy with dark espresso-colored hair just like his Dad with those endlessly blue ocean eyes.

“Earth to Gillian?” Chase cups my neck running a hand through my hair. “A million for your thoughts,” he says with a grin.

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