“But, Thomas…”
“Don’t do this to me. I want to spend time with her.” I started clearing the mess that was the living room. “Call Richard and tell him he won’t be needed today.”
She hesitated for a moment. I held my breath awaiting her decision like a criminal awaits the court order.
“Oh, okay. I’m sure he’ll understand. She finishes at three so don’t be late and don’t let her eat too much chocolate. I’ll pick her up at nine.”
How much chocolate is too much?
“I promise nothing, but don’t worry. I’ll take good care of her.”
Claudia chuckled, and I could imagine her shaking her head. “I know you will. Why do you think I called you first?”
Time wasn’t my ally. Neither was the smell of the house. My smell wasn’t any better. I opened the windows, cleared the empty bottles and rushed upstairs to take a shower.
I skipped shaving yet again and made a mental note to get rid of the three-week old stubble the next morning. I loaded the dishwasher, triple checked the living room for empty bottles lying around where they shouldn’t and ran out of the house.
Good thing the BMW was fixed. Scorpio took the liberty of bringing it back to my house a few days earlier; otherwise I would have had to run to the nursery. Considering my state, I would end up at the back of an ambulance, hooked to a ventilator if I tried.
The mechanic did a half-assed job on the car, but I didn’t care. I wanted to get a new one for a while, and a trip to the BMW saloon was on the agenda as soon as I stopped acting like a drama queen.
So, not anytime soon, right?
The thought of seeing Maya was like an adrenaline shot and laughing gas combined. I pushed Nadia out of my head, concentrating on the three-year-old, gorgeous baby girl I was about to spend the afternoon with. I stopped at Claudia’s house to pick up a car seat. The spare set of keys she gave me when Maya was born came in handy.
Twenty minutes later, I walked into the colourful waiting room of the nursery. Parents crowded the three square meters of space, waiting for their kids to finish for the day. I wasn’t sure what it was about the monkeys, birds and flowers painted on the walls, but they lightened my mood even more. I was almost giddy, and I fucking hoped it wasn’t because I was still drunk.
A woman in her forties opened the door, letting an army of kids into the room. Maya came out last and stopped in the doorway, scanning the room slowly, a pink lunch bag in one hand, a red book bag in the other. Her mouth curved into a grin once her eyes stopped on me.
“Thomas!”
She draped her arms around my neck when I picked her up, hugging me tight.
“You are scratching me,” she complained pushing my face away. “Why do you have a beard?”
“Don’t you like it?”
She squinted, pursed her lips, then shook her head. “It is scratching me. Shave it.”
“Okay, but not today. Your mummy called and said we can spend all day together. How does that sound?”
“Yay! Where are we going?”
We walked out of the building. I put her down on the pavement to fish out the keys to my car. Maya jumped in and I helped her take the seat belt out, but she buckled it herself. Tasks that adults take for granted fill children with pride and joy. I didn’t pay any attention to buckling my seatbelt, but to Maya it was an accomplishment: a small milestone that deserved praise.
“We can go wherever you want and do whatever you want, but first we need to get you something to eat.” I closed the door behind her.
“I want ice cream!”
Surprise, surprise.
“I’ll make you a deal,” I said, taking the wheel. “We can have ice cream after you eat lunch. Does spaghetti sound good?”
“Yes, but can we go to Uncle Nick and feed the ducks, and I’ll tell you about Star Wars.”
I adjusted the rear-view mirror to look at her when we joined the line of cars waiting to leave the parking lot.
“You watched Star Wars?”