Page 13
13
MY RESTRAINT IS CLOSE TO SNAPPING
JACK
Sienna is so very attached to Quinn.
Understandably, because so am I.
She’s flush against Quinn’s chest, snuggled close in her wrap. Her little arms flail excitedly as Quinn gently sways back and forth in an attempt to settle her a little before we make our way down the first street.
A look of pure love and tenderness is written across her soft features as she coos something about all the candy Sienna will get tonight and how she wishes she would have thought about getting a pumpkin for her to paint.
It slaps me in the face daily that Quinn treats Sienna like she is her flesh and blood, and this is one of those moments. She has natural maternal instincts that cannot be forced, and I want to tell her how much it means to me that my daughter has her in her life, but that feels like too much too soon.
Everything about her feels like too much too soon, particularly the certainty I felt the moment she fell into my lap.
The certainty that roared through the rush of blood in my ears: mine .
I’ve never been one to ease into things, and my restraint is close to snapping.
The street is buzzing with kids running around, laughing and yelling like little psychopaths, their costumes flitting behind them in the fading light. Some hold their parents' hands while others tail their older siblings, all eager to skip to the inevitable upset stomachs they’ll have in a few hours.
My chest feels tight when I consider how it was once a possibility that Sienna may have never had the opportunity to experience this. How it would have been so easy for her to have missed out on what it’s like to just be a kid. Anna's decision to allow me the privilege of being her father was the best choice she could have made for her while struggling with active addiction.
It hits me often how different Anna is now. We were so close as kids—inseparable, really. I don’t know when or why things changed, but somewhere along the way, she veered down a path I couldn’t understand. The little girl I used to love, who had such an innocent spark, living this broken, miserable life. It tears me apart—it’s like watching a part of yourself fracture, and you’re powerless to stop it.
Sienna lets out a yelp and it slices through my despondent thoughts. I look up to see her grinning at me, her tiny legs wiggling manically, drool spilling from the corner of her mouth. If she could say many words, I’d have been certain that was just a, “Hey!” Her little lobster Halloween costume looks just as ridiculous and adorable as I knew it would.
My gaze flits to Quinn using the end of her sleeve to clean Sienna’s face. I couldn’t convince her to go for the full mermaid getup, which is a damn shame, but our matching Little Mermaid shirts are just as photo-worthy. Even if things don’t end up going the way I hope they do between us, I’m glad for the little family photo shoot we had before coming out. I’ve already made a picture of the three of us my phone background so I can see her as often as I want, even when she’s not around.
Not that I don’t spy on the real thing on my security cameras while I’m at work.
Unfortunately she’s not always at my place.
I briefly muse about how I could possibly sneak a camera into her dorm. The fact that I am even considering that should sound several alarm bells, but the sad truth is… I am not sure I’d even hesitate if given the opportunity. Nor would I feel bad about it afterward.
She feels me looking and her green eyes meet mine. I don’t think I’ve ever noticed a single other person’s eye color, but they're the most stunning shade of olive and I can’t help but stare. She smiles and it makes me want to kiss her stupid.
Holding back the words I want to say is impossible.
“You’re such a natural with her. The little mama we’ve been missing.” I place my hand at the base of her back as I lean across them to grab Sienna’s treat bucket from the car’s front seat and close the door. “What will we do without our little mermaid when you’ve moved on to bigger and better things?”
I don’t want to think about that and I don’t know why it’s the first thing that came to mind. Maybe because you just threw yourself off the deep end with that mama comment, you fucking moron.
It’s not the save I hoped it would be.
Her mouth gapes, like I’ve rendered her speechless which I am pretty sure is a hard thing to do. She’s such a puzzle to me, a seemingly open book but somehow I feel like there’s something about her that I’m missing.
I want to know everything there is to know about her.
“There’s nothing bigger or better than this one.” She brushes Sienna’s sparse hair back. “And I don’t want to think about that right now.”
That makes two of us. Perhaps I’ll just keep my stupid fucking mouth shut now.
We walk in silence toward the first house, but as the elderly woman who lives there fills Sienna’s pumpkin bucket with an excessive amount of candy, Quinn leans in close to me and finally speaks again.
She’s standing on a step above me, putting her more on my level than she normally is. Her breath still smells like the cinnamon latte she had on the way here, and her mouth’s proximity to my face nearly undoes me. “I hope you know you’re enough for her.”
I’m unprepared to hear those words, but I know she must be saying this because I used the M-word. I press my lips together in a fine line and nod once.
I think most days I do know, but there will always be a part of me that is sad for what Sienna has missed out on that I can’t replace.
“I didn’t have either of my parents growing up,” she admits after we’ve said our thanks and begun to walk away. “But my aunt was enough.”
I have always suspected what kind of man her father was. I think most people in Hallow do to some extent, but I never imagined that she wasn’t even raised by her parents. Something in my gut tells me their abandonment of her isn’t something she shares with many people.
Most everyone assumes their relationship was something more than what it apparently was. Hallow is a small town. People talk—more than they should and most of the time they don’t have a fucking clue about what they’re saying.
“Do you see her much now?” I touch the tip of Sienna’s nose and for the first time since Quinn has been in the picture, she reaches for me to take her instead.
Quinn doesn’t hesitate. She folds down the wrap and slides her out, and Sienna all but leaps into my arms as she releases a string of da da da das that make my heart feel like it might explode. “I did until recently. She’s older and hasn’t been well for a few years now. We still speak on the phone often, but her son thought it would be best for her to be closer to him. I can’t say I disagree, but it sucks not having her nearby. He’s several years older than I am and not as wrapped up with school or work. His job is fully remote, so he can be there for her in ways that I’m not able to be. I hope to visit over Christmas break.”
The thought of her spending Christmas or any holiday anywhere that isn’t with us doesn’t sit well with me, which is a ridiculous notion because she has her own life. I have to remind myself that this is just her job.
But that’s the thing, isn’t it? The way she is with Sienna. It’s not just a job for her.
“Anyway. I do kind of hold a grudge against my parents that I’m sure I’ll heal from someday, but I grew up loved and cared for even if my home situation was unconventional. I’m thankful that my aunt wanted me when no one else did. If I could go back and choose, I would have still chosen her.”
The words hang heavy in the air, and as Sienna rests her head at the base of my throat I find myself hoping like hell that someday she’ll be able to say the same for me.
The rest of the evening blurs by, and before I know it, Sienna’s bucket is filled to the brim.
On the ride home, my chest still feels tense with lingering emotions from the unexpectedly deep conversation between Quinn and me. I grip the steering wheel a little tighter in an attempt to ground myself.
We’re barely a mile from home, but Sienna is asleep before we even pull up the drive. Thankfully, her costume is too thick to be worn safely in her car seat, so she’s already in a fresh diaper and onesie when Quinn carefully transitions her from the car to her crib.
I'm anxious for her to come back down. I want a few moments alone with her before Ezra and Stu interrupt us, which is a funny thought because we’ve had this annual Halloween thing for years and really she should be considered the party crasher except she is not that at all. I want her wherever I am at all times. I haven’t mentioned to her that I am having guests over, or that I want her to stay.
With every fiber of my being I want to do something that crosses that line of professionalism, just to test the waters and see how she reacts. I just can’t figure out how to bring it up without making things weird.
But I’ll beg if I have to.
Unfortunately, I don't get the opportunity. The incessant ringing of my doorbell tells me Stu has arrived first.