Guacamole Distractions

VIOLET

Ella’s unease is a mirror image of my own, ever since Jerry whisked Zach away. Tyler’s also out of reach. He was meant to be back by noon. Now it’s five o’clock, and there’s no sign of him or Zach.

“They’re together,” Callum attempts to comfort me. But his words fall flat. They have for hours.

“Then why aren’t they responding to us?” I question.

“Perhaps they had a spat. You know Zach’s feelings about Sophie and his quick temper.”

“I don’t want them to argue. We’re supposed to be happy. All this tension isn’t good for Ella.”

“Then stop worrying. You’re the one making a mountain out of a molehill. Calm down, and she will.”

I sulk, moving toward the piano. I’ve already played it three times today. Once for the tuner to adjust it, and twice more because I felt like it. Having the piano here is a good way to express my feelings, I guess.

“Can you play that lullaby again? Ella enjoyed it.”

I do. I play the unnamed lullaby, the one my mother used to play for me when I was a child. I’m not even sure it’s a real one, probably just something she invented when she was bored.

“Someday, your mommy and daddy are going to teach you to play this, and your daddy’s going to be so proud watching you, Ella.”

A smile spreads across my face. Callum has a knack for that. Despite my worry about the boys being missing, I trust Callum. He wouldn’t tell me they were okay if they weren’t. So I let myself watch them, allowing myself a moment of joy.

***

“Would you two like dinner, or are you waiting?” Catherine hasn’t left all day. It’s like she knows we need her. Or maybe she’s always here, silently moving around the house. It’s big enough, I suppose. She definitely wasn’t here the day Ella was born, that’s certain.

“We’ll eat. Violet skipped lunch,” Callum says.

I did, because I’m so worried about the boys.

“Is it okay if I stay? Dante’s out, and it’s a bit lonely at home.”

“Of course, do you need help? Weren’t we having tacos today?” I ask. My stomach rumbles at the thought, and I could use the distraction.

“That would be great, Violet. You can make the guacamole and tomatoes.”

I hesitate. “I would if I knew how.”

She smiles, taking my hand and guiding me with her. “How about I teach you?”

“That would be wonderful.” I sigh, both out of happiness and because I know she’s trying to distract me. She just exchanged a glance with Callum, a look that says thank you from his side. I’m being difficult again. It seems Callum can’t handle me when I’m anxious. And it seems Catherine knows something, and that’s why she’s stayed. I don’t question them because I don’t think they’ll tell me anything. I’ve tried asking Callum all afternoon.

I dive into the distraction, peeling the avocados exactly how Catherine showed me. The magic number is six, so that’s what I do. I also chop the tomatoes into small pieces. That was easy. I learned to do that years ago, but I go slow because the knife she gave me is heavy and sharp. And it slices through the tomatoes like they’re room temperature butter.

“Okay, now you add some chopped tomatoes, squeeze half a lemon, and then add salt and pepper until it tastes just right.”

“So I get to taste test while making the condiments? I could do this for a living.”

“Condiments?” Callum chuckles from the stool he’s sitting on, throwing his head back in a way that nearly makes me squirm.

“Yeah, you know, things that add flavor to other foods?” I say to distract myself.

“You’re so British.”

“And you’re a typical yank.”

“Yank?”

“Yankee? Come on, you must have heard that one, Callum?”

He smirks. He has, but he lies. I can tell.

“Can’t say I’ve ever met another British person before you, baby.”

“But you have since?”

His smile settles on his face as he talks about the people he met when we were in London and the woman from England he just hired who seems like a badass with baggage.

“Mmm, almost tastes as good as yours, Catherine.”

“May I try?”

I hold the spoon out to her, and she takes a bite, waiting a few seconds.

“Needs a bit more pepper, but otherwise, it’s just fine. Well done, Violet.”

I curtsy, earning a round of applause from Callum. “Why, thank you, Catherine,” I lay on my accent thickly.

“I hope Ella picks up on your accent, dear. It’s so lovely to listen to.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” Zach calls from the hallway.

Both of them stand sheepishly at the entrance of the room. My eyes scan them, assessing if they’ve been fighting. They’re in one piece with no signs of a fight. Thank God.

“Well, it’s about time you two showed up. Tacos for dinner, boys. And don’t worry, I made two portions. I know how much you love them,” Catherine doesn’t miss a beat, and I’m grateful because I can see how utterly exhausted Tyler is the moment my eyes find him. And my heart clenches with the realization of the only reason he would look so shattered.

“She’s yours, isn’t she?”

He looks up from the floor, his face filled with surprise as if he was planning to hold onto the information for a while longer.

“She isn’t, but Sophie somehow made the DNA look as if she were.”

As quickly as the laughter and happiness took hold of me just now, so does the sorrow and pain. I can’t stop the tears from brimming and spilling over, and I can’t face the boys anymore. A conversation happens around me, but I don’t take in a word. All I hear is the soft murmur of their voices, no specific words registering in my brain.

I stay at the counter as long as I can until I excuse myself. Walking to the back door, I slide it open enough for me to walk out, then shut it behind me. I slowly make my way toward the treehouse. It’s nothing like the one at Carla’s. Far from an apartment up in the air that could house one or two people. No, this one is made for a child, but I climb up anyway. Sitting inside on the Afghan rug against the pile of pillows, I cry. I let it all out so that when I go back into the house, I don’t have to pretend it’s okay. Every emotion that swamps me from the inside flows out in the wracking sobs that consume me, filling the treehouse with my muffled cries as I use one of the cushions to muffle the sound.

I’ve all but stopped when a hand taps at the door.

“May I come in?” Tyler asks timidly, poking his head far enough in to see me.

“You don’t need permission, Ty,” I say, patting the pillows beside me as an invitation.

“You were upset. I didn’t want to impose.”

“I’m not really upset, more scared and…yeah, scared.”

“But you’re crying?” he states, sitting next to me and wiping a tear from my cheek as proof.

“I am. Seems I do that a lot lately. Must be hormones. So tell me what happened, Tyler?”

He swallows, looking away as he pulls me into his side. I go willingly, of course, because I never feel safer than when I’m in one of my boys’ arms.

“Today was…shit, to say the least, Violet.” He sighs, pressing his lips to my hair, but I stay silent. He’ll tell me the rest when he’s ready.

“So the lawyer knew about the DNA when I showed up to the meeting this morning. She and a child services woman watched me interact with Tilly for forty-five minutes before Hayley, the lawyer, dropped the bombshell that the DNA came back positive. I almost had a heart attack as I left. In fact, I did have a panic attack—so much that I had to call Carla to come sit with me. Anyway, Jerry and Hayley are going to work behind the scenes to try and secure an order to make Sophie take another DNA test on Tilly, but under the supervision of a clinic doctor so that the sample can’t be tampered with or faked,” he looks down at me with sad eyes, almost as if he wants to cry himself.

“What else?” I gently coax him to tell me what he’s holding back, and it works. He spills everything.

“They made me attend a mediation session. It was so bizarre, Violet. Sophie doesn’t want anything except for me to take Tilly from Monday to Wednesday every week. She’s not asking for money or a house. She doesn’t even want me to spend time at her place with Tilly. We’ve agreed on a drop-off and pick-up location halfway between our homes. I can’t figure out what she’s up to.”

“Does that mean we’ll have Tilly here with us, all five of us?”

“That’s the plan, but if it’s an issue…I could possibly stay at my mom’s or Carla’s if you’re uncomfortable with Tilly being here. I’ll understand, either way, Violet. This is everyone’s home.”

“What did the others think? Were they okay with it?”

“Zach was fine with it. Callum told me to talk to you, and he’d go along with whatever made you happy.”

“Of course, he did.” I smirk at the closed door.

Callum always wants nothing more than for Ella and me to be content.

“What do you want, Tyler?”

“Does it matter?” My smile fades. I feel sorry for him and his situation.

“Of course, she’ll be your responsibility alone. I assume?”

“That’s just it. Sophie doesn’t mind if any of you help take care of her. It’s as if she just needs someone to look after Tilly so she can return to work. But apart from that, I really don’t want to care for Sophie’s child when I know she’s not mine. She fell asleep on me today while I was reading to her. It felt natural and right. Just like it does with Ella. Except…I know Ella isn’t leaving, but Tilly will. If not next week or a month from now, maybe even a few months…and I’m going to be devastated over loving a child that was never mine to love.

I recall Sophie’s words: Tilly deserves a father.

“What if we love her while we have her and figure out the rest later?” I suggest, even though I don’t want to fall for her either, not knowing she might vanish one day and leave an irreparable void in my family.

“We don’t deserve you. You realize that, don’t you?”