Page 17

Favorites – Fountaines D.C

Declan

Addie: I just picked Nora up from Maren’s house…

Me: How is she doing?

Addie: She has one less tooth than when I left, but seems to have acquired new craft supplies, books, clothes, and several stuffed animals.

Me: Oh? Christmas in August?

Addie: Maren told me you left her your credit card.

M y stomach churns with uncertainty. The period ending the text screams ‘upset’. A text bubble pops up and disappears three times. Yeah, she’s pissed. No happy person types, then deletes a message that many times.

I leave my phone on the kitchen counter and channel the anxiety into something productive and slowly drag the boxes Maren dropped off into the house.

The house I bought in Deon’s neighborhood has remained barren since I closed on the place in March. Besides the navy sectional in the living room, the bar stools tucked under the lip of the island, and the furniture in my bedroom, it’s empty.

The remaining rooms of the house—two guest rooms, an office, a sunroom, and a fully finished basement—need to be furnished, but I haven’t found the energy to do so.

Until I met Addie and Nora.

This isn’t somewhere I want them to visit. It’s lifeless and sterile, so far from the warm, welcoming energy of Addie’s apartment.

I’m carrying the last of the heavy boxes into the guest room when my phone rings. I drop the box and dive for my phone. Addie’s name appears on the top, and I frantically tap the screen to answer before it goes to voicemail.

“Hello?”

“Why are you in the dark?” A bright, confused voice asks, and affection flares in my solar plexus at the sound of Nora’s voice. “Mommy, I think your phone is broken.”

Addie’s laugh adds to the warmth in my chest, and it spreads out until I’m wrapped in a thick blanket of comfort.

“Declan, it's FaceTime.”

“Oh.” I pull the phone from my ear, and I’m greeted with the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen from Addie. Mirth swims in her hazel eyes, and the left side of her mouth pulls slightly higher than the right.

The video feed jostles, and I lose sight of Addie, but there’s a commotion, followed by a screech and the slamming of the door. A head of dark curls pops onto the screen and Nora offers me a toothy smile, only the front left tooth is missing.

“Nora!” Addie yells, followed by an aggressive bang. Nora pales slightly, but ignores her. “Open the door!”

Nora yells back. “I want to talk to Decy alone!”

There’s a loud grumble followed by a defeated, “Three minutes. Then you open the door.”

Nora’s smile is victorious, if not also a bit mischievous. Her voice lowers to a whisper. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Yes,” I whisper back.

“Mommy likes you.”

“Nora!” Addie cuts in.

I bark out a laugh.

“She said you paid for all of my new toys,” Nora continues, brows furrowing. “Do I have to give them back if you stop liking her?”

Her question stomps on my heart, and I rub my diaphragm.

“No.” I pause, trying to find the right words to reassure her. I don’t know where her concern is coming from, but I know exactly how she feels. “I do like your mom,” I admit, “but those toys belong to you. You can do what you want with them. If you want to give them away or keep them forever, it’s up to you.”

“I like my new clothes,” she admits, voice timid. “And my markers.”

“I’m glad.” Her blue eyes shine. “Do you think we should include your mom?” I ask.

She looks over at the bathroom door. “Decy?”

“Yes?”

“Can you get me a puppy?”

“Absolutely not!” Addie screams from outside the door. “Declan, I swear to god if you get her a dog I will put shit in your smoothies.”

Nora gasps loudly and runs to the door, ripping it open. “Swear jar.”

Addie snatches her phone from her daughter's grip and frowns at me while I laugh. “Do not get her a dog. I don’t care how cute she is, or how effective she is at negotiation,” she says with gritted teeth.

“I promise.”

I place a hand over my heart and lie down on the couch, propping my head up on a pillow. Addie argues with her daughter about the cost associated with her swearing. Nora claims all swear words cost a hundred dollars. Addie gives me a look through the phone that could curdle blood.

I can’t see what’s happening, but there’s some stomping, grunting, and then a heavy sigh. “Go brush your teeth,” Addie says.

Her eyes are tired when she reappears in view.

“I’m sorry if I’m causing problems.” A silence hangs between us, and I nervously fill it. “I just wanted to make her feel special.” I gulp back the discomfort and offer Addie a sliver of truth. “I never had anyone make me feel important when I was her age…I apologize if I overstepped.”

“You’re not causing problems. We’re just re-adjusting.”

“What?”

She releases a deep sigh. “It’s only ever been Nora and me. We’ve had a few babysitters, but we’ve never had…” Her eyes flicker to the left. “We’re learning how we fit in your world, and with that comes some growing pains.

“I’m trying to let Nora make connections and allow her to grow fond of you and your friends, but it makes me nervous.”

I don’t need a crystal ball to know what her next words are going to be.

“The people in my life tend to leave, and I don’t want that for Nora. But I think in protecting her, I’ve put her at a disadvantage.” Addie’s eyes glisten with tears. “She loves your friends, and you, but what if this doesn’t work out and it’s all ruined for her?”

“Addie.” She tries to continue, but I cut her off. “First, no matter what happens between us, you and Nora always have a place here.” I pause, debating, before I add, “Have you ever heard of a zing?”

“No?”

“Deon says it’s an inexplicable sense of comfort with someone else. Jack says it feels like a homecoming after a long vacation apart. Henry told me his zing felt like a knife to the chest when he realized he couldn’t live without Sawyer.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’ve been chasing the elusive zing—the inexplicable connection with someone else. Someone who feels like home. I zinged with you.”

“What?”

“The day you gave me the trash can. I felt the bolt of lightning in my chest. It’s why I’m so sure about this—about us. I thought I felt it the night we had our picnic.”

I’m confessing far more than I had planned, but I need her to see the truth. I think she may be it for me—her and Nora together.

I’m not afraid of the commitment, but I’m desperately hopeful for what we could become. A family.

She’s quiet on the other side of the line, her brows furrowed in deep thought.

“You said it feels like a zap of electricity?”

“It can.”

She nibbles on her lower lip. “I-I think I may have felt it, too.” My breath catches. “In the equipment room.”

“I wish I could kiss you right now,” I admit.

If she gave me the word, I would drive across town just to kiss her.

Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, and her pupils dilate. Before she can respond, Nora launches into her lap and takes the phone.

“Can we go on a date again soon?” she asks.

There’s toothpaste on the corner of her mouth, and her cheeks are a deep red, like she applied blush while in the bathroom.

“I’d like that very much.”

I respond to Nora, but the words are for Addie.