Setting our things down, I carefully step us into the water, and at first, Bailey’s stiffens, her body jerking as her muscles lock and I smile at her, holding her away from my body slightly. She heaves forward, quickly clinging on to me and a low laugh escapes me.
A little slower, I step farther out, bending at the knee to bring her more under the water.
She starts to loosen, so I bounce a bit and her fingers fly into her mouth, her lips curving into a smile around them.
“See, Bay. It’s fun.” I grab her little hand and pat at the water.
She squeals, jerking her upper body, and I laugh, making sure my hold is tight as she tries to push away from me.
She starts slapping at the water, giggling like crazy, and my smile couldn’t be wider. Her blue eyes light up every time the water sprinkles against her face and she looks to me with her toothless grin, as if to say, ‘did you see, Mama?’
“Look at you playing in the water.” I lean over to kiss her temple. “Such a big girl, Bay.”
Tears fill my eyes, it’s such a bittersweet moment.
She’s having so much fun, experiencing something for the very first time, and there’s no one to share it with.
There’s never anyone to share anything with.
As I think it, guilt weighs in my chest.
That’s not true.
Bianca is always there, and if she isn’t, she’s reachable, at least when it comes to me. I know she goes out of her way to make sure she’s only a call away when it comes to me, because she knows I’m on my own.
My brother is busy, and I hate bothering him, though he’d be upset to hear this, but he’s trying to create a life and will drop everything if I ask.
I refuse to let him in on my struggles for that very reason.
When our mom passed, he was still in high school. If it weren’t for his best friend’s family, I would have had to defer college, and we’d have had to move to stay afloat since the only person who cared for us had nothing to leave behind. She worked hard all her life for the little we did have.
Thankfully, Milo’s friend gave him a home and I didn’t have to pass on my scholarship. At first, I was going to do it anyway; it didn’t feel right to leave him, but when he found out, he promised to never speak to me again if I did, he knew as well as I did if I let it slip from my fingertips, another would likely never come. He never would have cut me out, but I trusted my baby brother to trust me. If he couldn’t make a life for himself when his time came, I would make sure I made one for the both of us.
It was really hard on us both, being away from the only member that gave a damn. And then Bailey blessed our lives. Even though Milo’s not here, it’s obvious the peace she brings me is mirrored in him.
Bailey begins rubbing at her eyes, so I step from the water.
At first, she cries, as if she wants to get back in, but once I get her wet onesie off, and wrap her in a little cocoon white plush towel I brought from the room, she settles long enough for me to wrap one around myself.
As I get back to the hotel and I’m opening up the app to access the key card, a shadow falls over me.
My cheeks heat, knowing I’m a mess of knotted hair and dripping clothes, but a smile still plays at my lips as I spin.
It falls flat instantly as I find a completely different man standing there.
He looks from me to the ball of towel in my hand. “If my memory serves me correctly, I believe I received an email with payment information for childcare for this trip.”
“Guess you’re not as old as you’re beginning to look.” I shrug. “Your memory is still intact. I decided to bring my sitter along,” I lie.
He scoffs, his eyes falling to my arms again, but I spin, keeping my daughter out of his sight. He doesn’t deserve to look at her. His gaze snaps back to mine, a flicker of something I can’t and don’t care to read racing through them.
“Imagine my surprise when I looked at my log to find this was your room.”
“You’re the one who booked it.”
His nod is calculated, and he slides his hands into his khaki pockets. “I believe my pitcher’s room ended up being the one directly beside yours.”
“Is it?” I keep my face blank.
He cocks his head, staring for several seconds. “Have you seen my boy, Meyer?”
Vomit threatens to rise in my throat, but I refuse to swallow. “Have you tried knocking on his door?”