Third installment from the Cassie universe.
I never loved her mother.
I wish I had; every little girl deserves to hear her parents' love story, the fairytale that culminated in her birth. But my daughter won't get to hear that story.
"What happened next, Daddy!" I glance at my little girl, bundled up in her flannel jammies and wrapped in a Frozen quilt, waiting not so patiently for me to turn the page in her storybook.
"Then Rapunzel was reunited with the King and Queen, and there were celebrations all throughout the land." Cassie listens, but she's more interested in the illustrations. At just six, she already has an artistic eye. My mind wanders back to her mother.
We were barely acquaintances. It was a drunken one night stand, my junior year of college. But when we found out about the pregnancy we agreed to work together to raise our child. And for a while, life was good.
It didn't last.
Glim was fantastic through the pregnancy, especially when she found out we were having a girl. She took care of herself, took Lamaze classes with me, filled our apartment with tiny pink outfits.
But things changed rapidly after Cassie was born. The idea of a baby was apparently much more compelling to Glimmer than the reality. Within weeks of the birth, she was out partying nearly every night, and she spent less and less time with the baby as the weeks went by. Until finally, she just didn't come back.
At 22, I was a newly graduated single parent to a six-month-old. I had no choice but to move back home.
My mother took us in, even helped with Cassie a little, but she was disgusted with me. She insisted that I had destroyed my life with my stupidity; that no decent woman would ever marry me now.
But it didn't matter, because I was already in love. I fell in love with Cassie the very first time I held her in my arms, red and squirmy and squalling. And I knew she was mine, always, the moment she locked eyes with me. The same eyes I see every day in the mirror.
"Daddy!" She tugs on my sleeve to grab my attention. "The Queen is Rapunzel's mommy."
"That's right, Princess. And the King is her daddy."
"And you're my daddy," she smiles. But then her expression turns pensive. I know what comes next. "I don't have a mommy." It's not the first time she's said it; princess storybooks, Mother's Day crafts at school, playdates. All of those things trigger the questions.
I have sole custody of Cassie. Glimmer hasn't seen our daughter since she left us nearly six years ago. It would be a lie to say that I don't harbour some anger about that. Even still, I never disparage Glimmer when Cassie has questions. I don't want her to ever be ashamed of that half of herself.
She's silent for a while, small fingers tracing the picture of Rapunzel in her parents' embrace. "Daddy?" She whispers and I brace for the inevitable 'when will my mommy come to see me' onslaught.
But she surprises me. "Can Katniss be my mommy?" I'm momentarily speechless. Katniss and I have been dating for nine months now. I know Cassie adores her, and I know the feeling is mutual. And it'd be a lie to say I've never thought of asking Katniss to marry me. Hell, I've been to the jeweller near the school where I teach four times, browsing. But fear of how Cassie might react to having Katniss as a permanent part of our family has held me back.
Now she's bringing it up herself.
"I love Katniss," she says softly. "She gives me lots of hugs and paints my nails and sings all of Elsa's songs." I chuckle. Katniss is endlessly patient with Cassie's Frozen obsession. Listening to her sing those Disney tunes in her gorgeous, sultry voice is one of my favourite things too. When Katniss sings, even the birds stop to listen.
Cassie crawls into my lap, squashing my cheeks between her hands. "I'm the Princess," she says, her bright blue eyes serious. "And you're the King. Can Katniss be the Queen and live in our castle forever?" My heart clenches at her words, at the earnestness of them.
"I think that's up to Katniss," I whisper. "Being a queen is a really big job. She might not be ready for that." There are truths hidden in my simplification, truths I'm terrified to explore myself. I know Katniss loves me, loves us. But that's a lot of baggage.
Cassie is undeterred, beaming at me with her new chipmunk teeth. "I'm gonna ask her." And though it's on the tip of my tongue to tell her not to, I swallow it. She's six. She'll have forgotten by morning anyway.
We fall through the apartment door, groping and shushing each other as we try to stifle giggles. It was an incredible evening; a concert, then dancing at a funky club. Watching her firm ass sway in those tight black jeans and high-heeled boots, I've been hard all evening long. We had a few drinks. Or a few more than a few, maybe. I could barely keep my hands off of her in the cab. She wasn't exactly discouraging me.
Rue looks up from where she's sitting on the couch, playing on her tablet, and smirks. "Have a nice evening you two?" Katniss flushes prettily, nodding before heading for my kitchen. She's so shy sometimes. Almost pure. One of many things I love about her.
I pay Rue for her babysitting services, and walk her home as quickly as I can, anxious to get back to Katniss, that minx, that sultry goddess. To get her into my bed, to have her gasping and writhing underneath me. When I slip back into my own apartment though, I'm surprised to find Katniss not in my bedroom, but in the kitchen, still. Staring at a paper in her hand. "Hey," I murmur, sliding my arms around her, and she sighs, nuzzling me like a contented cat. Then I glance down at the paper she's holding.
It's one of Cassie's drawings. A self portrait, with me holding one of her hands, and Katniss holding the other. Simplistic but obvious. We each have a giant crown perched on our head. And underneath a single word. 'FAMLE'. "Family," Katniss murmurs, her fingers tracing the crayon lines reverently.
"She adores you," I whisper, as Katniss leans back into my embrace.
"I love her too," she says softly. Then after a beat she sets the paper back on the table and spins to face me. "I love her daddy a whole lot too," she teases, the mischievous sparkle in her eyes not quite enough to disguise the hint of melancholy painting her features. But I can't dwell on it as she grabs my tie and tows me towards the bedroom.
Despite the crazed, lust-filled cab ride home, our lovemaking is gentle, tender. Transcendent. I pant confessions in her ear as I move inside her. I tell her that I love her, that I need her. That she completes me. Katniss is silent except for my name falling from her lips over and over.
And after, she lies in my arms. Her slim fingers trace designs over my heart, delicate as a moth's wing. "Does…" she starts, barely a whisper. "Does Cassie really think of me that way? As… as her family?" I squeeze her more tightly and nod against her hair. "I never wanted children," she says softly and my heart skips. "When I was young," she continues. "After my dad died, my mother…well she was never the same. I pretty much raised Prim."
Katniss has told me precious little about her family. I've met Prim, and the mutual adoration between the siblings is evident and heartwarming. And I know their parents are both dead. But neither Katniss nor her sister has mentioned anything else about them to me. "But Cassie…" She trails off again, and it's quiet but for the hammering of my heart. Finally, after what feels like an eternity where I'm perched on the edge of terror, she lifts her head. Her eyes, onyx and unfathomable in the dim, lock onto mine. "Being with Cassie. It makes me realize how much I want that. With her it's different. It's fulfilling. It's… It's fun."
"It isn't always fun," I whisper, reluctantly. "Sometimes it's hard as hell."
Her teeth flash white in the moonlight as she grins, and it sets me at ease. "I know it's hard," she says. "I've watched you for more than a year. But you handle everything she throws at you with a smile."
I shrug. "I love being her daddy." I say simply.
Katniss lays her head against my chest again. I don't want to push her, but I'm desperate to continue this conversation, now that she's brought it up. But it turns out she's not done yet either. "Do you…do you see me that way, too… as… as you know? As part of..."
"Yes," I tell her, nodding even as she makes a little noise of agreement. "You and Cassie. You're my world."
"Do you ever think about the future?"
I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing. "All of the time, Katniss. I think about it. I dream about it." I run my hand down her bare back. "I fantasize about it," I murmur.
"What do you see?"
"I see you. By my side. Cooking dinner together and laughing. Making love every night."
She snorts. "That sounds like right now." She's right. It does. She deserves the whole truth. I take a deep breath and hope with all of my heart that I'm reading her signals right. That I won't scare her away.
"I see you in a long white dress, with flowers in your hair, making me the happiest man alive. I see a little house in the suburbs, with a swing set for Cassie in the yard. I…" I swallow hard, and reflexively my arms tighten around her. To prevent her from bolting, maybe. "I see you with your belly all round and swollen. Us, becoming a family of four." The silence is deafening. But then she sighs.
"A little boy," she murmurs. "A little boy who looks just like you." I roll her under me, smiling down at her as I kiss every inch of her lovely face.
"But with your eyes," I mumble between kisses.
I can hear her smile as she says, "Cassie would be a great big sister."
I'm a goner.
The credits are rolling on what must be our 400th viewing of Tangled. The pizza box lays empty, except for crusts and stray bits of mushroom. Cassie is sitting on Katniss's lap, wrapping her long black braid around her head like a crown. "Are you making me into a princess?" Katniss laughs at my daughter. Her little nose wrinkles.
"No, I'm the princess," she insists with all of the bluster a six-year-old can manage, and Katniss laughs more. Cassie pauses in her hairstyling, regarding Katniss thoughtfully. "I'm the princess," she repeats. "And my daddy is the King." My breath catches in my throat. "Will you be our Queen and live in our castle for always?" Katniss stares at Cassie for just a moment, shock and uncertainty on her face. Then she turns to me. And I open the little black velvet box I've been hiding in my pocket all evening.
A little laugh bubbles musically from her lips, even as the tears overflow. "Yes," she whispers to me, then turns back to Cassie. "Yes," she repeats more firmly. "Yes, I want to be with you and your daddy for always." Cassie wraps her arms around Katniss in what looks more like a chokehold than a hug, but Katniss only laughs more. And I pull both of them into my arms, kissing away Katniss's tears, stroking Cassie's soft curls.
Somehow I manage to slide the simple diamond solitaire onto Katniss's finger, and she twists her hand back and forth as she, Cassie, and I admire the way the light catches the stone. We sit quietly, the three of us wrapped in each other.
Cassie yawns, curled on up Katniss's shoulder, and I shift in my seat, intending to take her. But Katniss shakes her head. "No, I'll help her get ready for bed tonight." The two loves of my life disappear into the other room, and as I listen to Katniss's melodic voice crooning a lullaby I smile.
I never loved her mother. But my little girl will get to help write the fairytale of her parents love story. Starting now.