Page 22 of That Time in Venice
“Um, I think I don’t want Mr. Elephant tonight. Can I have Baby Giraffe? He wants me toholdhim.”
“That’s right, I heard himsayso.”
“He can’t talk, Daddy.” She laughed, as if he’d said the silliest thing she’d everheard.
Right. He needed to remember that Baby Giraffe could convey the need to be held withouttalking.
Reed took the stuffed elephant, placed it next to Teddy on the lid of her box of toys, and brought back Baby Giraffe. “Thereyougo.”
She clutched the animal by itslongneck.
“Yougoodnow?”
“Yes.”
“Did you say your prayers for Mommytonight?”
“Yes. And you and Grandma and Grandpa andPopPop.”
“Good girl.” Reed kissed her forehead. “Goodnight.”
Because she expected him to stay, he sat on the floor beside the bed and rested his back against the wall. Across the room, a narrow bookcase with picture books and a shelf dedicated to photos of Brielle and her mother, Layla, sat in a corner. Brielle’s grandmother, Nanette, had recently sent the collection and he put them on display. The one to the front was a black and white photo of Layla and Brielle at two. In the close-up they had their cheeks pressed together, laughing into the camera. It was hisfavorite.
Of course thinking about Layla made him think about Anika. Almost every woman he’d been involved with since Anika had been black, as if he’d tried to recreate the same passion and intensity they’d shared. Yet none of them had been right. None of those relationships lasted. Picking women of the same race or appearance couldn’t duplicate what they’d had. What made him and Anika work was her personality. And none of those women were her, the person she wasinside.
He sat there until Brielle’s even breathing became audible, but instead of going back to his room, he eased onto her twin bed. His feet hung off the side, but he simply wanted to be close to her forabit.
He still harbored guilt about her mother. He should have married Layla and given her the life she obviously wanted but he pretended to believe she didn’t need. Because he suspected, despite her comments to the contrary, if he’d asked her to marry him—put in a serious effort—she would havesaidyes.
Reed closed his eyes. He was pretty sure God had a sense of humor. After all the shit he’d done, God saw fit to give him a daughter. Before Brielle’s mother passed away, he’d been a part-time dad. Not even part-time, with him living in New York and Layla living in Texas. Now that he filled both parental roles, he doubted his ability to master his responsibilities as protector, nurturer, teacher. How the heck did other single parents do it? Even with help, taking care of Brielle was a lotofwork.
Most of all, removing her from what was familiar in Dallas filled him with guilt. Her grandparents, who’d helped raise her, aunts, uncles, and cousins all lived in the area and she’d grown up around them. They hadn’t been pleased when he’d come to take her but respected his rights as herfather.
Brielle moaned in her sleep and rolled onto her back, one arm still locked around Baby Giraffe, the other sprawled out to her side. Her eyelids twitched and then stopped. Her rough breathing resumed its eventempo.
He watched her sleep, pride filling his chest. She’d changed him from a selfish bachelor into a responsible adult. She was the one thing he’d done right. How lucky was he to be the father of this kid? Even when she drove him nuts withWhyquestions every fiveseconds.
Daddy, why do I have to take a bath every night? I hatebaths.
Because if you don’t, you’llstink.
Why?
Because all the sweat and dirt that accumulated throughout the day will stay on your skin and make yousmellbad.
Why?
Because it does, and you have to washitoff.
Why?
Because Isaidso.
Reed laughed softly andsatup.
He still had to figure out how to handle her tantrums. It was important for Brielle to maintain a relationship with her grandmother, but he dreaded the end of those phone calls. They missed her, and it was obvious she missed them, too. Each time his daughter hung up, she fell into a sullen mood. Then, her attitude morphed into cranky and difficulttantrums.
Had he made a mistake bringing her to Atlanta? He hated seeing his little girl go through any kind of emotional turmoil and wasn’t one hundred percent certain he’d done the rightthing.
“Give her time,” his cousin’s wifehadsaid.
He was trying, but itwashard.
“Do what’s best for my grandbaby. Bring her back,” Brielle’s grandmother had said when he spoke toherlast.
Maybe he would eventually have to take her back, but not now. He stillhadtime.
He wasn’t ready to giveupyet.
