Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
“Mommy, are you and Maxy going to kiss again?”
I’m sure Marnie’s freaking out every bit as much as me but she manages to smooth a lock of hair away from Ripley’s cheek and calmly reply, “No, honey. That was a one-time thing.”
“Naomi’s parents kiss. I saw Grampy kiss Gigi, too.”
Marnie looks at me, as if to say, “Now what?”
“Yeah, adults who really like each other sometimes kiss,” I say.
“You really like Mommy?”
“I do. Yes.”
“Do you really like Maxy?”
“I do,” Marnie says stiffly. “Maxy is moving to another state—to California—for a really exciting job, though, so we won’t get to see him very much when we get home. This week was a special time to get to spend with him, but this is all the time we’re going to get, unfortunately.”
“Is dat the same place where we went to Disneyland?”
“It is. The place Maxy is moving isn’t close to Disneyland, but, yes, California is home to Disneyland.”
Ripley considers that. “Can we move to California with Maxy, so we can see him every day and night, like at camp?”
My heart stops. And by the look on Marnie’s face, her ticker is doing something similar.
“No, honey. We’re going to stay in Seattle.”
I feel the need to reassure Ripley of my affection for her. To make sure she understands I’m moving to make my professional dreams come true, but that doesn’t mean I won’t miss her. But my tongue is tied and my brain short-circuiting.
“Max is moving to California for a job he’s wanted for a very long time,” Marnie says. “So, let’s be happy for him, instead of sad for ourselves because we’ll miss him, okay?”
Ripley doesn’t look convinced. But she manages a sweet little “okay,” even through her obvious disappointment.
“Now, go to sleep, love muffin,” Marnie says. “We’ve got a big travel day tomorrow.”
“How come I have a mommy and a Grampy, but Naomi has a mommy and a daddy and a grampy and a grammy? Why can’t I have a daddy and a grammy, like her?”
Marnie stifles a whimper. “Gigi is like a grammy now, don’t you think? And not every family has a daddy. Some families, like ours, only have a mommy. Other families have two mommies. Some have two daddies or—"
“I only want one daddy,” Ripley says. Her little chin is wobbling. “I want Maxy to be my daddy.”
Marnie and I both have instant, palpable reactions. For her part, Marnie’s breathing halts. Her body stiffens. On my end, tears spring into my eyes. This is exactly what Marnie didn’t want to happen. Exactly the thing that made her say no in the beginning. And suddenly, I’m realizing I should have listened to her. I shouldn’t have pushed and cajoled and begged. I should have put Ripley first, not my career ambitions. It’s all so clear to me now. I’ve failed this little person, and I’m gutted about it.
When it’s clear Marnie’s at a loss for words, I take over. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I just can’t. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you. Because I do. With all my heart.”
Ripley sits up and hugs me, and it takes all my willpower not to break down and sob into her soft hair.
“I love you, Maxy-Milly,” she whispers.
“I love you too, cowgirl. I’ve had the best week ever with you. Wasn’t it fun?”
“It was da best week of my entire life.”
“Mine too. I’m gonna miss you when I move to California.”
“I’m gonna miss you, too.”
“Excuse me,” Marnie whispers hoarsely. “Max will stay with you till you fall asleep, honey. Mommy has to go to the bathroom.”
My eyes are closed, and my face still buried in Ripley’s hair, but from the sound of Marnie’s voice and rapid footsteps, it’s clear she’s not merely walking out of the room. She’s fleeing.
“Okay, bedtime,” I say, after I’ve gathered myself, and Ripley lies back down.
“Will you tickle my face while I fall asleep?” she says. “Like dis.” She flutters her fingertips over her cheeks and forehead.
“Sure.”
With a satisfied little grin, Ripley closes her eyes while I run my fingertips along the planes and grooves of her perfect, angelic face, and when her breathing becomes rhythmic and her lips part, when I’m sure she’s fast asleep, I creep out of the room and find Marnie sitting on the couch with her head in her hands.
I sit next to her. “I blew it. I shouldn’t have pushed you to come here.”
She drops her hands. “Are you kidding me? It was the best week of her life. Mine, too. I wouldn’t have missed it for anything, no matter what happens next.”
I’m floored. “Really?”
Marnie nods. “This week was magic for both of us.”
“For me, too. Best week of my life.”
She smiles weakly. “Nothing comes for free. I knew that when I said yes.” She swallows hard like she’s physically stuffing down words on the tip of her tongue. And, suddenly, I can’t wait a second longer to kiss her. I pull her to me and press my lips to hers, and Marnie slides into my lap and straddles me. We don’t maul each other, though, like usual. There’s no sense of urgency in our kiss. It’s not primal, heated lust fueling our lips this time. It’s affection. Emotion. Sadness. This is a slow and tender goodbye kiss.