JACKSON
"Why was Aunt Maggie mean to my April?" Athena asks, staring at me with furrowed eyebrows. "Get her back, Daddy, and tell her she can't do that."
"No, Thena," I say tiredly.
"Why?" she argues. "I told on her; you have to do something."
"Aunt Maggie is an adult," I say. "I can't make her act a certain way. It was wrong how she treated April, you're right. But I can't control her."
"You can tell her she was bad!"
"It wouldn't do any good," I say.
"Why was she being like that, then?" she continues, pressing the subject. "April didn't even say anything barely. And Aunt Maggie was giving her mean looks." She pauses and bunches her fists. "I'll yell at her!"
"You're not gonna yell at anybody," I say.
"You're not even answering," she gripes. "Tell me why she was being mean."
"I don't know," I say. "Maybe she was in a bad mood. I don't know the reason, Athena."
"Now you're using a mean voice, too!" she whines. "Just tell me why Aunt Maggie doesn't like my April."
"I don't know," I say, growing frustrated. I'm not only frustrated with my stubborn daughter, but with the way my hardheaded and apparently all-knowing sister acted. It was obvious she could read what's going on between April and me - how, I don't know. But I saw it in her eyes that she was aware; maybe by the way we were standing, maybe due to the fact that it's past 6 and April is still here, or maybe another reason. I don't know how, but she's onto me. I guarantee that's why she was acting the way she was, but that doesn't mean it was warranted. She has no business sticking her nose into my life or judging the way I live it. It pisses me off that she thinks she does.
"You do know! You're keeping secrets!" Athena insists.
"Athena!" I growl. "That's enough. The topic is done. Go finish practicing, dinner is still cooking."
"I liked you this morning, but not anymore," she pouts, stomping away with a big frown on her face.
Once she goes, I turn to April whose skin has become ashen. She wrings her hands, uncomfortable, then chews her lower lip. "I should finish the potatoes," she murmurs, then starts towards the kitchen with me on her tail.
"Hey," I say quietly, once we're alone. "You okay?"
With her back towards me, I see her sigh. "You know, all she wanted was an explanation," she says.
It takes me only a moment to realize she's referencing Athena and the near tantrum she just had. "I couldn't give her one," I say. "I'm pretty sure Maggie was acting bitchy because she realizes what you and I are doing." April flips around wearing a concerned expression, potato peeler in hand. "Don't worry," I say. "She's not going to do anything. What could she do, anyway? She thinks she's my boss. It's always been that way and it's annoying as hell. Yes, she's my sister and I love her, but she has no say over what we're doing. I'm sorry about the way she acted. I wish she weren't so critical, because I actually think you two would get along."
"I'm sure I would like her," she says, turning around to continue shearing a potato. "But the way she behaved confused Athena and you gave her nothing to work with."
"I just explained that," I say, confused. "I couldn't give her the truth. So, why lie?"
"You wouldn't lie," she says, shoulders sagging. "Just communicate. There needs to be an avenue between you two so that when she has a problem, she feels like she can come to you without being shut out."
"She can always come to me," I say quickly. "She knows that."
"Does she?" April asks, raising her eyebrows as she looks back.
"Of course."
She sighs. "I would never try and tell you how to parent. I don't have kids; I don't know how it goes. I'm just telling you what I can see. You tend to shut her down and in doing that, you shut her out. You both are so used to it. I understand why you couldn't come out and tell her that Maggie is pissed because you're seeing the nanny. I get that. I wouldn't tell her, either. But you could at least have a two-way conversation."
I frown, at a loss. "But I'm the parent," I say. "Not everything has to be a two-way conversation. If that were the case, we'd argue all day long."
"You wouldn't, though," April says. "Because you'd be talking. Back and forth, you know, instead of you shoving orders into her face and getting angry when she doesn't comply. When was the last time you actually listened to her?"
"What do you mean? I always listen to Athena."
"I mean really listen," she says. "Like… what she was telling you out there without saying it." She nods towards where we had just been. "She and I are getting close. She and Maggie are close, too, I'm guessing. In her heart of hearts, where she's probably not even aware she's feeling like this, she's scared that if Maggie doesn't like me, she's gonna have to choose. And she's freaking out over how to do that."
I open my mouth to argue, but without a word in my head, I let my lips close. What April says makes sense, I can't deny. I don't know how to acknowledge it without admitting my faults, though, and I'm not ready for that. If I messed up here, where else have I messed up?
"I would never make her choose," I say.
"It's not about you making…" she begins, then trails off as the pot full of skinned potatoes starts to boil. She turns the heat down and stirs them, placing the lid on after. "Never mind."
"No, not never mind," I say, sensing defeat and annoyance in her voice.
"Yes, never mind. You don't want to hear what I have to say."
That makes me take pause. If I'm shutting her out because of my own bullheadedness, how often do I do the same with my daughter? Especially after a long day as she puts up a fuss over something I don't want to hear. How often do I implement the fact that my word is law because I'm her father and I make the rules? Do I put forth an aura of control when there doesn't need to be one at all? Because I'm a single father, my biggest fear is losing control and having to pick up the pieces by myself. But maybe there are already thousands scattered around from something I had no idea was broken.
"It's hard to hear," I admit quietly. "I love her. I don't want to silence her. I just don't know how to… I don't know. She can be so stubborn. She doesn't let things go."
"That's because she wants you to hear her," April says. "She wants answers. She's getting older and she's smart, Jackson. She's not a baby anymore."
"I know," I say. "That scares the shit out of me."
"It shouldn't," she says. "She's a beautiful girl with a beautiful, beautiful mind. Let her show you."
I stand there for a second, directionless in the kitchen, until I figure out what I need to do. I'm just not sure how. "Should I…?" I ask, eyes darting towards the sounds coming from the piano.
"Yeah," April says. "I would."
I nod to myself and walk out of the kitchen, leaving April to finish dinner on her own. I approach the piano where Athena is playing with one hand while the other elbow is planted on the keys, cheek squished in her palm. "I don't wanna talk to you," she grumbles, playing the same five notes over and over again.
"Thena, I'm sorry," I say. "I shouldn't have snapped. Honestly, I'm not sure why Aunt Maggie was being so mean, but you are right. She was being mean to April and April didn't deserve it. But I'm sure, if she gets the chance to meet her again, things will be fine. She probably just had a bad day. The boys probably got into something at home and she can't stop thinking about it. April is way too nice not to like, right?"
She lifts her eyes from the keys and studies me like she's seeing me for the first time. She blinks, calculating her answer, then swallows. "Yeah," she says.
"They'd be good friends, I think," I say, realizing that April was right. Of course she was. I can see it in Athena's face - the two women closest to her were just at odds with each other. I can't imagine how that must have felt for a 7-year-old. "Let's just wait until Maggie gets another chance."
"She can have one more," Athena says, looking back towards the keys and tapping the same tone repeatedly. "Just one and then I'm never talking to her ever again in my life."
"That's a little drastic," I say.
"It's not," she retorts. "So, she better be nice next time."
With that, she pushes the bench away from the piano and walks past me, scurrying into the kitchen and out of view. I follow in her footsteps and enter just in time to see her press her face into April's stomach as she throws her arms around her nanny's waist, and April makes a surprised, breathless sound. "What are you doing, silly?" she says, using one hand to stir the boiling potatoes and the other to run Athena's hair through her fingers.
"Mm," Athena grunts, pressing her face into April's shirt.
"Do you want to help me finish?"
"Mm," Athena answers, shaking her head no as she stays in place.
"Okay, well, I'm almost done. If you wanna be by me, how about you sit on the counter instead of leeching? I might accidentally burn you." Reluctantly, Athena untangles her arms and April lifts her onto the counter, Athena's eyes never leaving her face. "There," she says.
"Hug," my daughter says, lower lip pouting out as she reaches for April.
"One second," April says, turning off the stovetop as she gets both oven mitts out. She sets them on the counter, then wraps her arms around Athena, squeezing tight. Over April's shoulder, I see my daughter's eyes shut with feeling, hands mapping April's shoulder blades. "You give the best hugs," April tells her, voice muffled by her hair.
I can't help but feel jealous as I watch the two of them. I don't remember the last time Athena asked for a hug or offered one. I can't help but wonder where this strong attachment is coming from, so out of the blue and unexpected. It's like April is slowly giving life back to her and she doesn't want that source to leave, so she's doing everything she can to protect it.
"Who's ready to eat?" April asks.
"Me!" Athena says, hopping down. She yanks my hand as she walks by and pulls me towards the table, bringing three plates with her as she goes.
"Oh, honey, I'm not staying," April says, setting the food down in the middle. She makes eye contact with me for a moment and I feel a little disappointed, though I shouldn't. "You and your daddy are gonna eat together. I gotta go home now."
"No…" Athena whines, flopping in her chair. "I want you to stay. Stay and eat with us."
"Baby, April can't," I say, sticking up for her while trying to have a voice in this. "She just told you. You'll see her tomorrow, okay?"
"No, not tomorrow," she argues. "I want more tonight. Please, April, stay and eat with us? Sit next to me?"
I see something flicker in April's eyes and wonder what it is as she looks between us. "I mean…" she says, shrugging. "I don't want to intrude."
"Oh, please," I say. "You're not. But honestly, if you need to get out of here, you should go. Don't let her keep you."
"Yes, let me keep you!" Athena says, standing on her chair. She leans forward and wraps her arms around April's neck to say, "Can I keep you? Please, please?"
"Oh, my goodness," April laughs. "Alright. I'll stay. Get off me, spider."
"Yay! April's staying!"
I can't deny that I feel a little bit of that elation as April sits in between us and dishes herself a portion, a small smile on her face. Athena is over the moon, bouncing in her seat and keeping her gaze on her nanny for the entire duration of dinner. "I got good at the fast notes in C Minor, Prelude," Athena says, fork in one hand as she eats voraciously, with excitement. "The fast, fast, fast, ones." Then she switches her eyes to me. "That's by Bach, Daddy. Spelled with a C-H but said like a K."
"Very good," I say.
"I did it before you got home," she says. "So, you didn't hear. But I promise, it was really fast!" She giggles to herself. "So now, I played two composers." She holds up two fingers. "Not just one." She looks at April. "Remember when I only had one?"
"I do," April says, light shining in her eyes.
"So, what are their names?" I ask, attempting to find my place in this conversation. If April is right and I need to get better at conversing with my daughter, I don't want to wait until it's too late. And what better subject than music - something she's so newly passionate about?
"That was Bach," she says. "C-H. His first name is Johann and his middle name is Sebastian, like the crab. He was German, but he's gone. Like Mommy. Then before, I did Debussy who I already told you about."
"I can't believe how good you're getting, Thena," I say. "How good you already are."
"I'm amazing, April says," she says, chest puffing with pride.
"You really are," I agree.
Later, while Athena in the shower and blasting one of April's piano playlists, I'm with her nanny in the kitchen cleaning up. "I tried to engage her," I say, breaking the soft silence that found a place between us.
"I noticed," she says, and I hear the smile in her voice. "It was really nice."
"Yeah?" I say. "I don't wanna seem like I'm trying too hard."
She furrows her eyebrows, visibly confused at what I've said. "Jackson, there's no such thing as trying too hard with kids. Especially your own. She's gonna notice everything you do, and she's gonna love it."
"Well, good," I say.
"And I'm proud of you," she says, scrubbing a dish under the soapy water in the sink. "That might be weird to say, since you're kinda my boss, but…"
"I'm not your boss right now," I say, wrapping my arms around her from the side. I tuck my face into her neck and she squeals softly, bending so I can't tickle her with my lips.
"Stop," she whispers playfully, smiling wide and uncontrolled. "I'm all sudsy. I'm gonna get you wet!"
"I don't care," I say.
"I like this good mood," she says, allowing me to spin her so her arms lift from the water. She winds them around my waist, and I feel the wetness soak through my shirt instantly, but it doesn't bother me.
"You've helped me so much with her," I say. "Thank you." She nods, acknowledging my words. "Being around you makes me… us… happy."
She smiles so her eyes sparkle, then frames my face with her soapy hands. I let her, uncaring, and close my eyes as I kiss her with feeling. I want her to know how truly grateful I am for her newfound presence in not only Athena's life, but mine. She's brought something into this house that it hasn't had for years, maybe not ever during Athena's lifetime. It's breathing again, just like we are.
"I feel the same," she says, trailing her fingertips through my kept beard so a scratching sound follows. She kisses me again, short and sweet before lingering much longer on the second one, body going slack in my arms as I hold her close. I open my mouth against hers and listen to her sigh, winding her arms around my neck to play with the hair there. She smiles against my lips as I trail my hands lower and grab two handfuls of her ass, forcing her hips closer to mine, flush against them. "You're handsy…" she says, speaking into my mouth.
"Is it okay?" I ask, making sure.
"Yeah. I like it," she says, back bending as I get her even closer.
Then, a small voice cuts through the air. "April!" I pull my mouth away from hers and look towards the source; I can clearly picture Athena standing at the top of the stairs in her hooded towel, body dripping. She had told us after dinner that she was going to shower and go to bed as usual, and I hadn't questioned it. So, I don't know what this is about. Before either of us can call back, though, she shouts again - this time, with more urgency. "April!"
"What?" April calls back, still wrapped in my arms.
"I'm done with my shower."
April's forehead wrinkles with the same confusion I'm feeling. "Okay," she says back.
"Can you come to the stairs?"
April inhales and places her damp hands on my chest, gently pushing me away so she can go see what Athena wants. I follow her to the edge of the kitchen so my daughter won't be able to see me, but I can still listen to the interaction. "What is it?" April asks.
"Can you come tuck me in?" Athena replies.
"Oh," April says, surprised. "Sure. Your daddy's right here, too."
"No Daddy," Athena insists. "Just you. Please, just you, alone?"
"Oh," she says again, then looks to me and asks, "Is that okay?"
"Sure," I say. "Go ahead."
"Alright," April says. "I'm coming."
I watch her go up the stairs as I linger at the bottom, then listen for the sound of them in Athena's bedroom. I can't help but feel a little left out, as if I'm on the outside looking in. I promise myself that I won't intrude on their conversation; I just want to hear them talk. I want to hear Athena's happiness, how content she is. I can't get enough of it, and neither of us can seem to get enough of April.
The door is almost shut, but not quite - I can still hear them. "There, that's so nice," April says, as I imagine she's tucking the covers up to my daughter's chin. "You look so cozy. I'm jealous."
"April," Athena whispers. If I weren't so close, I definitely wouldn't be able to catch it.
"Yeah?"
"Will you help me talk to Mommy? Like you said before?"
"What do you mean?" April prompts.
"A couple yesterdays ago when you said that you talk to your mommy and she hears everything you say. And you said I can do the same with mine, too. I don't know how, though. I need help."
"Oh," April says, and I'm thoroughly confused. I have no idea what they're talking about - this isn't anything Athena has ever brought up with me. "It's easy. You don't even have to talk out loud if you don't want to."
"How will she hear me?"
"Angels are magic," April says softly. "The ones that belong to you can hear the thoughts that you want them to hear."
"What if she accidentally hears a mean one?" she asks.
"You can always take it back," April says. "She knows that you don't mean it. Know why?" A pause. "Because she knows your heart. And you know what else?" Another pause. "You're the only person who knows what her heart sounds like from the inside."
"How?"
"When you were in her belly, you heard her heart."
"I can't remember."
I hear April's smile. "Well, none of us can. But that doesn't mean it didn't happen."
"I hurt my mommy when I came out of her belly," Athena whispers. "I made her go away."
"No..." April says.
"She doesn't talk to me 'cause she's mad at me for doing that."
"No, no," April says again, and there's an inexplicable feeling perched tight inside my chest. I realize my jaw is clenched and my teeth are pressed together, but there's nothing I can do to release the tension. I had no idea April was teaching Athena about angels. It's not a topic we've ever broached in our home - Myla didn't want that, she didn't believe in any of it. I never had much of an opinion, so I went with hers out of respect. "She could never be mad at you. It wasn't your fault."
"I think it really was."
"I promise you, it wasn't," she says. "Now remember, we have to be quiet if we want to hear her or talk to her. Did you think of anything to say?"
There's yet another small pause before Athena says, "Yeah."
"Do you want me to stay or leave?"
"Stay." I wait with bated breath for what comes next, and when I hear my daughter's small voice ring out again, I want to cry and scream at the same time. "I'm sorry, Mommy," she says, with so much sadness laced in her words.
I can't take it anymore. With my fists bunched, I wait until April has said goodnight and then meet her in the hall as soon as she comes out of the room. "Can I talk to you?" I ask tersely.
She gives me a wary look but says, "Sure…"
"Look," I say, trying to keep my voice low. "I meant what I said downstairs. You've helped me so much with her. But religion isn't something we do in this house. It's confuses her."
Her eyebrows come together, creating two vertical lines between them. "What about it is confusing?" she asks, the words spewing from her mouth like bullets.
"The angel talk," I say. "You telling her that her mom is something that she isn't."
She cuts me off with a reddened face and pale lips. "Sure, Jackson," she spits. "I'll just pretend that Myla never existed. Like you do."
"Hey," I say. "Wait a second. Just because I don't teach her about angels, or whatever, doesn't mean that…" I don't know how to finish.
"Doesn't mean what?"
"She doesn't have to apologize," I say sternly. "She didn't do anything. She shouldn't be sorry."
"You don't understand," April says. "Just because she shouldn't be sorry doesn't mean that she isn't. I'm aware that what happened isn't her fault and you are, too. But do you know who isn't? Athena. You know why? Because she's 7 years old and you don't talk to her about it. So, she's left to assume that Myla died because of her. Because it happened while she was being born. Do you know how much guilt she must harbor over that? Over something she's held onto for her whole life?" She shakes her head and her hair flies. "The apology wasn't for Myla or for me or for you. It was for Athena."
"You don't know my daughter better than I do," I say defensively, surprising myself. "I've raised her for seven years. You haven't even been here two months. I know my kid."
"Then why do you feel the need to tell me so?" she counters.
"Daddy," Athena says, surprising us both as we flip around to see her. Her eyes are huge and glistening, tear stains on her cheeks. "Stop being mean to April!"
"Baby," I say, feeling helpless. "Baby, everything's fine. Go back to bed."
"Stop being mean to April, or else she's gonna go away!" she sobs. "We have to be nice, so she'll stay. I really want her to stay, daddy."
"Hey," April says, kneeling to look Athena in the eyes. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here."
I watch the two of them from afar, feeling like an unwelcome third party. "You were fighting," she cries.
"We were just having a disagreement, that's all," April says, and Athena falls into her arms. "I promise, I'm not leaving."
"Other nannies did."
April closes her eyes and squeezes my daughter tighter. "I'm not like the other nannies, though, am I?"
"No," Athena concedes, then lets April pick her up.
"Alright," April says. "Let's get you to bed. It's late, and you have to be well-rested for school tomorrow." She looks to me. "Jackson, do you want to…?"
"I'll meet you downstairs," I say quietly, then make my way down.
It's not long before I hear footsteps from where I sit on the couch, then April appears. Something about her is subdued now, her eyes a little duller, emotions hiding behind them instead of showcased as usual. She lingers at the foot of the steps before making eye contact, and I try to make my expression as open as possible. "I'm sorry," she says finally.
I chew the inside of my cheek and wonder how to proceed. I want to have a conversation, but that's not something I'm good at. "Will you come sit?" I ask. She walks over with deflated shoulders and sits down, facing me with one knee bent, just like the other night. "I should apologize, too," I say. "For jumping down your throat. I'm sorry I did that. It's just…" I take a deep breath and try to figure out how to word what I want to say. "Myla was an atheist, I said that. When we met, I wasn't sure what I was or what I believed in. Agnostic, maybe… I don't know. I never had anyone to teach me, but I was curious. She wasn't interested, though, so in support of our marriage I took the atheism route. She never wanted to teach Athena about God or… or heaven, or angels, or anything. I don't know if that would've changed had she known her fate, but…" I trail off then, losing confidence.
"You feel like telling Athena anything else is going against Myla's memory," April fills in.
"Yeah," I say, nodding. "Yeah."
"I understand that," she says. "And I would never force any of my beliefs on you or your daughter. I want you to know that." I nod, taking in what she's saying. "I'm a Christian, but not the kind people hate. I vote blue, I believe in gun control, I'm pro-choice, and also… um, well, I'm bisexual. I check off all the boxes for what radical Christians hate." I take a moment to absorb her statements - I'm not surprised by most of them, but the last one catches me off guard. I guess it shouldn't, being that she doesn't owe me her sexuality, but I hadn't expected it. "What I'm trying to say is that… I don't know. I didn't talk to Athena about angels to push any sort of agenda on her. I told her because she's spent 7 years wondering where her mommy is. And I did, too, when I was her age. I know how it feels to just not know. Even though my family believed in God, I still couldn't conjure up an image of heaven. So, I made one up for myself and I made up stories to go along with it. I shared this with your daughter not to try and convert her, but to comfort her."
I look at the fabric of the couch and try to sift through my thoughts. It's not as easy as I thought it would be, digesting everything as it's put out in the open. For years, I haven't allowed myself to think that heaven might be real. It's been easier, for me at least, to think of Myla as simply gone. If she's gone, there's nothing left to hold onto. There's nothing to grieve but an empty space. What would it mean if she were somewhere, watching over Athena and me? What is she thinking? Is she disappointed; is she unhappy with how I've raised the daughter she had such high hopes for?
A long time must pass, because April finally asks, "What are you thinking?"
I shake my head and blink hard, trying to come back to earth. "I…" I begin. "I don't know. A lot."
"It won't happen again," she says.
"No," I say. "I'm talking to you as another person who cares about my daughter. Not her nanny that I employ, but someone who I care for and who cares for her." She nods slowly. "I love everything you do for her. I love the kid she's turning out to be with you. One I never knew she was, honestly. She's been unhappy for a long time, but you're changing that." I pause for a moment, trying to figure this out. "I think you're changing me, too. But that change is scary, and I'm not sure how to handle it." I take a deep breath and let it out. "If Myla is… somewhere… I don't know what she would think."
April wrings her hands and leans against the side of the couch, watching me for a while without speaking. She lets the silence pass comfortably, without awkwardness or tension, and I appreciate it. "I don't know what she would think, because I didn't know her," she says. "But I hope it's not selfish to say that I think she would like that you're both happy."
The corner of my mouth twitches and I realize a smile is sneaking in. It has been a very, very long time since I've been able to truthfully say that I'm happy. I almost don't know how to accept it; I'm so used to the opposite. Being carefree doesn't come naturally, it's as if I have to learn how to let go of a life I didn't even like.
"I'd like to think you're right," I say.
…
That weekend, my mother stops by impromptu with Maggie, claiming that we need to start planning Athena's party for her birthday coming up.
"I can order a cake," I say, sitting at the table with both of them. Athena is under us, surrounded by feet, listening.
"You will not be ordering a cake," my mother says. "I've baked one for years and years, for every single one of everyone's birthdays. What on this earth makes you think you should order one?"
"Just trying to make things a little easier," I mumble.
So far, Maggie hasn't spoken a single word. I said hello and she gave me a terse smile, but that was about it. I'm not even sure why she's here, other than the fact that she might have been forced. "We don't need easy," she says. "We need perfect. Now, let's talk about a guest list. Athena," she leans to the side and directions her question under the table. "Who are some little friends you'd like to have over for your party?"
Athena is quiet for a while, presumably thinking. Then, she says, "April."
I press my lips together and widen my eyes, clearing my throat. My mom looks confused, Maggie perturbed, and I can only imagine my daughter is smiling. "Anyone else?" Mom asks.
"April," Athena says again.
Mom frowns, turning her palms face-up in a clueless expression. "Who in the world is that?" she asks.
"The nanny," Maggie says, finally speaking. "Athena, your nanny shouldn't be at your party. It's for family and friends."
"April is my friend. April is my best friend."
Mom lets out a long sigh. "Athena… the party is for children, sweetie."
"April is a big kid. She's fun. She's all I want. I'm not inviting any of the babies from my class."
Maggie looks to our mom, saying, "This can't be healthy."
"Hey," I say. "I'm right here. And it's fine. She and April are close, let Thena invite her to the goddamn party. It's her birthday, she should choose."
"Yeah, she and April are close," Maggie sneers.
"What are you- oh, my god," I say, rolling my eyes. "Listen, my love li-" Before I spiral into a tirade, I cut myself off and realize Athena is still listening intently. "Thena, maybe you want to go show Grandma the new song you learned."
"No."
I grit my teeth and stand up, nodding my sister towards the kitchen. Reluctantly, she follows, and I hear my mom start to entertain my daughter to distract her. "What is your problem?" I ask.
"What, I'm not supposed to have a problem with the fact that you're sleeping with your daughter's nanny? Who looks about 18, by the way."
"She's not 18," I say. "She's 27. Not that it's any of your business. And we're not sleeping together."
"Yet."
"And?" I say. "My love life is none of your business. You upset Thena the other day with how rude you were to April. She loves you, Maggie, she doesn't want you being mean to one of her favorite people. April is important to her. Very important."
"I'm sure she's important to you, too," she says. "Especially at night."
"Okay, what's the issue?" I ask. "You're out of line. Why does this matter so much to you?"
"Because you should be focusing on your daughter instead of her nanny's ass!" she hisses. "When have you ever put Thena first? First, you put work before her for years. Now, some girl?"
"I'm not putting April before Athena," I say. "I wish you could hear yourself. You refuse to look past your own nose. April has changed Athena for the better. And me, too. Without her, I'd still be doing the same shit I was doing before. But she's helping me see that there's more to taking care of a kid than making money."
"As if no one's ever told you that before," she says.
"I really like her, alright?" I say. "And I refuse to stand here and justify it. She's coming to Athena's party and that's the end of it. Thena wants to give you a second chance and she really hopes you two can get along."
…
SENT, 8:34pm- My mom has Thena tonight. Are you performing?
RECEIVED, 8:36pm- Yessss…. I go on at 10. Just one song. Why?
SENT, 8:37pm- I was hoping I could come see you. See, I'm asking this time :)
RECEIVED, 8:40pm- Ugh. I can't say no. I wanna see you. Keep it on the DL tho, okay?
SENT, 8:41pm- You got it.
The Whistler is loud and bustling when I walk in. I sit at a table in the back, far away from the stage, and keep my head low after ordering a drink. I listen to a few performances, none of which stick out, and sip my rum and Coke slowly. But when April comes on, I set the glass down, sit up straight, and give her my complete attention.
"I'm April Skye," she says sweetly, holding the mic with one hand. Tonight, she's wearing a black dress that falls to mid-thigh - the skirt fans out a bit, but the waist is drawn in with cups underlining the bust. The straps are thin, but not spaghetti-thin. It's classy look. Her hair is half pulled up, and what's left down is pushed behind her shoulders. I can't stop looking at her. "Tonight, I'm gonna sing Tee Shirt by Birdy," she says. "This one goes out to the new lovers in the audience… if there are any."
I can't help the smile that breaks my face, though I'm sure I look like an idiot. I feel like a middle schooler with a crush, not a grown man. I didn't know it was possible for someone to have so much pull over me so fast.
As the lights change and the live guitar begins to strum, April opens her eyes seemingly right into mine and starts to sing. "In the morning when you wake up, I'd like to believe you are thinking of me," she sings, and I'm absolutely entranced by her sweet voice. It's magic in the way it swirls and lilts over the audience, encompassing everyone and hypnotizing us all at once. "And when the sun comes through your window, I'd like to believe you've been dreaming of me… dreaming, mm-mmm… I know 'cause I'd spend half this morning thinking about the tee shirt you sleep in. I should know, 'cause I'd spend all the whole day listening to your message I'm keeping. And never deleting."
The song ends much too soon, but once it does, I stand up and applaud with gusto. I momentarily forget about her request to keep my attendance subtle; there's no way I could after a performance like that. I cup my hands around my mouth and cheer, which makes her blush before heading off the stage.
I wait by the bathrooms after, knowing that's the path she'll take. I'm glad to know I wasn't wrong as she walks towards me, buzzing with energy and excitement. "Hey," she says, breaking into a jog before flying into my arms. "You came."
I lift her off the ground and spin once, my arms tight around her back. "Told you I would," I say. I set her down and look at her face, one hand on her neck with my thumb on her chin. "You sounded beautiful. I can't believe how good you are. Well, I can, but… god, you're just so damn good."
She looks to either side quickly, almost like she's checking for clearance, before grabbing my head with both hands and kissing me with all she's got. I kiss her back equally as rough, hands on her waist, before she backs up and takes us both into the women's restroom.
"Mm, April," I say, speaking against her lips as she kisses me.
"I love the feeling I get when you're watching me," she whispers, grabbing the collar of my shirt as she pulls us into a stall. "I can't explain it. I just love it."
I lock the door and press her against the wall, trapping her with one hand beside her head and the other planted on her waist. "I should come and see you more often, then," I say, moving to kiss her neck.
It's not every day that I make out with a girl in the stall of the bathroom, but I'm not complaining when it happens. April has the ability of making everything exciting, surprising me around every turn. I had no idea that tonight would end like this, but reality turned out better than my expectations.
After, we exit the stall and wash our hands, stealing glances at each other in the mirror along the way. As we continue to catch the other's eye, April finally bursts out laughing and says, "That better not have been our date."
I start laughing, too. "No," I say. "But if you want, that date could end the same way. Hopefully, in a bed instead of a bathroom stall."
"Maybe," she says flirtatiously. "If you're lucky." After our hands are dry, April pushes open the door and leads the way out only to run into another woman. "Oh, Steph," she says. "Sorry." She takes a step back and there's a strange, strained moment of silence as the two size each other up.
The other girl - Steph, apparently - narrows her eyes, looking beyond disgusted, and I want nothing more to get out of there. Before I can, though, Steph opens her mouth. "Nice," she spits, tossing the words at April before looking at me with malice. "Fucking some guy - at work, no less - after calling your ex. Classy, April. Real classy."