Page 68 of Ice Cold Hearts
“Audrey, did you even say hello to Mr. Alexei and Mr. Ian?” Emily scolds.
She rolls her eyes spectacularly. “Hi.”
Audrey continues her rummaging.
Emily crouches down next to her daughter and softly says, “We’re going to have a grown up chat, so you’re going to have some tablet time with your headphones. Before we do that, though, Mr. Alexei helped Grandma pack your bag. What do you need to say to him?”
“Thank you, Uncle Alexei. You did a really good job,” she says, hugging my legs.
“You’re welcome, Little Pea.” I ruffle her hair
She turns back to Emily. “Can you set up my tablet now, please, Mama?”
She smiles. “Absolutely.”
Uncle Alexei.
The title warms my heart, and I’m determined to be worthy of it. No matter what happens, I’m going to make sure I’m there for that little girl as much as Emily allows me to be.
Uncle is a great title, mutters the little voice in the back of my head, but Papa Alexei has a much nicer ring to it.
I stuff the thought back down into the farthest corner of my brain. Things are going well now. There’s no need to indulge a foolish pipe dream, especially with what I plan to ask her today.
Emily joins us on the couch. Now that she’s not putting on a brave face for Audrey, I can see how much paler and worn out she looks. My hands clench.
I fucking hate the media.
I know I should start our house meeting off with the serious business of the article and revisit the plans we made at our last meeting, but something more self-serving is on my mind.
“Did you ask her to call me that?” I ask Emily.
“What? Uncle Alexei?” She smiles as she says it. “Nope, that’s all her. Honestly, most of my effort has been focused on her not calling you all ‘Mr. Giant.’ She jumped from Mr. to Uncle all on her own. Although…” her eyes narrow. “I wouldn’t put it past my mother.”
After a few moments of quiet, she asks, “Does that bother you? I can ask her to stop.”
“No.” I say too quickly. “It’s nice.”
“Okay.” She smiles shyly.
“Anything else before we get to business?” I ask.
“Actually, yeah,” Oliver says, turning to Emily. “Why on earth did you let her name her doll after a noodle?”
My favorite thing about Emily is that she laughs with her whole body. Her shoulders shake, her cheeks glow, and when she finds something especially funny, her body practically folds in half and she snorts.
Oliver’s comment was apparently especially funny to her. When she’s done, she sits up straight and quickly swipes the tears from her eyes.
“First off, those are her toys so she gets to name them whatever she wants. As long as it’s not inappropriate, there’s no need for me to intervene,” she says primly. “Second, Audrey thinks, and I’m quoting here, ‘Fettuccini is the bestest most beauteous name in the whole wild world.’ Are you really prepared to tell her it’s a ridiculous name?”
“I… well, here’s the thing. I mean, it’s…”Oliver sputters.
“We can put a pause on the meeting so you can tell her,” I taunt.
He sinks further into the couch as if he’s intending to slip between the cushions and hide.
“No,” he grumbles. “Princess Fettuccini it is.”
Ian pats his shoulder patronizingly. “Good man.”