Page 72 of The Surrogate Nanny
My eyes tracked to the clock on the wall. “I shouldn’t. I have to leave for therapy pretty soon, and if I join you, I—”
“Say less,” Simone replied as she carefully maneuvered around the broken glass. “I’ll clean this up when I get out.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it. Nori should be waking up from her nap soon. Do you need me to stop at the grocery store on my way home?”
“Yes.”
“Write me a list,” I urged, sliding a sticky notepad and pen in her direction. My eyebrows furrowed as I watched her write out her list. “Is that all?”
“Yep.”
“All right. I love you. I’ll see you later.”
“I love you, too,” Simone called out, leaving my office as naked as the day she was born.
***
“I’m home,” I called out, entering the house through the garage.
“Thank God. What took you so long?” Simone chastised, bombarding me as soon as I entered the kitchen.
“I stopped and visited my other family,” I replied, with an eye roll.
“I wouldn’t joke like that, Anthony. People have been killed for less.”
“You’re jealous. That’s adorable.”
“It’s not about me being jealous; it’s about respect,” Simone fussed as she tore into a package of iced gingerbread cookies. I was mildly impressed when she screwed the lid off the chocolate milk and began chugging it like a frat boy downing a beer.
“Mama!” Nori shouted from below. She slapped her mother’s leg repeatedly, trying to get her attention. “Mama! Coo coo.”
Simone shoved a soft baked gingerbread in Nori’s direction without missing a beat. Nori’s fingers nearly grasped the cookie when Simone snatched it back, causing Nori to cry out in frustration and flop onto the floor.
“Nori Rene, you have three seconds to get off that floor. I’m trying to help you out. See. You have to break the gingerbread man’s legs off first so he doesn’t run away. Here.”
Nori sniffed and accepted the cookie from her mother.
“That’s a little morbid, don’t you think?” I laughed, wiping away her chocolate milk mustache.
“It’s a fact.”
I kissed her lips and wrapped her in an embrace. “I have a gift for you.”
“A gift? For what?”
“It’s something I’d been working on for a while. I wanted to give it to you for your birthday, but I decided to hold off. Grab your snack and meet us in the living room.”
Nori followed me like a little duckling to the family room, where I hid Simone’s gift in the ottoman. I watched intently as Nori attempted to pull herself onto the couch. I wanted to leap in and help her, but lately, I’d been trying to not be a helicopter parent. I wouldn’t intercede unless asked.
“Daddy.”
That was my cue. I boosted her with my leg and practiced how to sign ‘thank you’ with her until her mother materialized.
“All right. What did you get me?” Simone asked, dropping onto the couch next to Nori. I sat the black leather album on her lap. “What is this?” she asked skeptically.
“I told you that I was going to make my own.”
“No!” she gasped. “I can keep this?”