My So Called Life (Love Not Included Series Book 3) (18 page)

“Oh, God, you feel so good. How long does it take to get a stool?” I groan, trying to calculate if there is enough time to shove his hands down my pants.

That thought is broken by the pantry door being thrown open. Just as the light fully illuminates the small space, Ian’s off me in a heartbeat, grabbing at a bunch of random canned items while I focus on pointing at random things on the shelves.

“What are you two doing in here?” Pippa’s questioning voice blares into the pantry.

“Oh, nothing, sweetie. Just picking out some ingredients for the cookies. Ian was helping me.”

Smart little girl doesn’t look too fooled by our fib, but thankfully, she notices something much more important than figuring out what we were up to in the pantry. She stares up at Ian, until finally she puts her little hands on her hips and starts tapping her right foot on the ground impatiently.

“Eeeeen, you ruined your lipstick! Now I have to fix it!” she wails. She goes to grab for his hand, and I about choke spitting saliva out of my mouth.

Ian, who is trying
not
to turn to face Pippa due to the large bulge in his pants right now, just looks at me for help.

“You better hurry up and go, Ian. Princess cookies wait for no one.” I send him my most glorious wink.

With that, he is escorted out.

Sideways.

To get his lips touched up.

Once again, I’m in danger of peeing my pants.

S
IX BATCHES OF COOKIES
. Two burned because unfortunately not all cereal bakes well in cookie dough. One batch of peanut butter goodness turned into two because we all ate the first batch before they cooled. Add in the last batch of princess-sprinkle delights, which is where it all started, and you have three little pigs sitting on the couch with their top buttons popped open while watching the evening shows, trying to keep the sugar explosion from becoming a sugar upchuck-o-rama.

Ian, thankfully, was the smart one who threw in a frozen pizza that was hiding behind the frozen pancakes. Pippa fortunately didn’t notice
that
treat. And between cookie batches, we did attempt to feed her an acceptable dinner. Now we are all wishing, even little ol’ Pippa that we’d made better decisions about the amount of sugar we shoved down our throats.

Pippa seems to be recovering the fastest, because she begins to laugh at the movie on the television. I, on the other hand, have my palm lying on my belly, rubbing at the bulge, hoping it goes down, while Ian groans every couple of minutes and tries to adjust his belt buckle.

The things you do for the ones you love.

Aww, I just said it.
Well, in my head.

I do love Pippa. How could I not? She has been nothing but awesome since the moment she stepped in front of me. She reminds me of the only good part of my childhood—my beautiful sister. I don’t need to wonder who Amy became in the years after I left. I know it was nothing less than the incredible sister I remember. For the last four years, she’s been raising this amazing little human, just like she raised me. I just hope that I can carry the torch and do justice to Amy’s legacy. I owe it to her to help her daughter become the beautiful person she was teaching her to be.

In the midst of my thoughts, Ian has shifted, trying to get my attention. Once I make eye contact with him, he nods toward Pippa, indicating it’s time to have
that
talk. At first I want to signal for him to start off, because he’s known her longer, so she may feel more comfortable with him, but then again, I’m gonna be her future, so I need the practice.

“Hey, sweetie, can we have a little chat real quick?” I ask her, trying to adjust her on my lap. Once Pippa is facing me, I inhale deeply and do my best not to mess this one up. “So do you want to talk about what happened today?” I ask softly, leaving a little smile on my face for comfort.

Not making it easy for me, she shakes her head and bends her head to stare into her lap.

“Honey, you know it’s okay to talk about it. We’re your safe spot. Do you know what a safe spot is?”

She shakes her head.

“A safe spot is a place where no matter what or how you feel, you are in the safest place to talk about whatever you’re feeling or what’s on your mind. No matter what you say, you won’t get in trouble and no one will get mad. Anything is okay to say in the safe spot.”

She listens to my description—I have no idea where I pulled that one from—until I see recognition in her eyes. She gets it.

“So I won’t get in twouble?” she questions.

“Correct, sweetie. Anything you say is safe with us. It’s just us three, okay?”

She looks from me to Ian. Ian nods and smiles in confirmation, and then she moves her inquiring eyes back to mine. It’s when she finally speaks that my heart takes its first hit.

“Mommy and Daddy are there when I’m sleeping. But when I wake up, they go away. And that makes me sad.”

I inhale a strangled breath of air. It’s important right now to keep my composure and be the adult, but holy shit, I didn’t expect that one. I nod, biting the inside of my cheek to keep calm.

“Where do they go? Why do they leave me? Mommy said she would never leave me,” Pippa continues.

Small minds. How do I try and explain something that in no terms this precious little girl will ever understand? I barely understand it myself. I feel Ian clutch my hand that’s holding on to Pippa’s, offering his support.

“Pip, sometimes ,”—I pause to take a deep breath—“sometimes we get lucky and they get to visit us in our dreams. It’s their way of still telling you how much they love you and that they’re looking over you no matter what.”

I watch her little eyes as she takes in what I said. She’s thinking. That little mind working overtime.

“But why don’t they visit me when I am awake? Did I do something wrong?”

“Oh, honey, no. Sometimes people have to go to Heaven sooner than others. And it was time for your mommy and daddy. They love you sooo much, baby. They didn’t want to leave you. But they had to go.” I’m not sure how much more I can say. My composure is slipping and my eyes are filling with tears.

Pippa looks at me, her sad expression stating the obvious. She doesn’t understand. And I just don’t know how to make her.

“Did you get to say goodbye when you saw mommy? When she came to see you?”

“What?” I ask, confused. “Honey, your mommy didn’t come and see me.”

“But she did,” she argues.

“Princess.” Ian quickly jumps in and gets Pippa to turn her somber face to him, giving me the chance to wipe the tears from my face. “You might not be able to see your mommy and daddy anymore except in your dreams, but they will always be watching over you. That’s why Chrissy and I will be here to make sure you grow up and become big and wonderful. And in spirit, your mommy and daddy will always be watching over you.”

Ian’s words make me lose it. I’m completely failing at the adult
keep your composure
rule. I know my tears are going to cause a few steps back for Pippa, but I’m fighting emotion that I just cannot keep quiet anymore.

“Kissy, why are you crying?” Pippa turns to me and places her tiny little nose against mine.

“I’m sorry, baby. I am trying to be strong for you, but I miss your mommy too.” I sniffle and wipe my nose with my sleeve.
Don’t judge.
“And I know you miss her, too, sweetie. So maybe you and I . . . maybe we can miss her together, and we can tell stories and help each other be okay. How does that sound?”

In her little mind, it sounds okay. The child consoling the adult. She wipes the tears off my face and squeezes my cheeks not so lightly. “Don’t be sad, Kissy. Mommy always said when I was sad, alls I had to do was to think of something happy and pretty. I’m thinking about the color pink right now. Maybe you can too.”

I love this girl.

“Good, baby, I’m glad. I’ll do that too.”

I grab her into the biggest bear hug I can muster and hug her until I feel like I never want to let her go. When I eventually release her, Ian steps in and proclaims it’s bedtime. Following his lead, I move to stand, but he mouths,
I got it.

I give Pippa the ultimate princess kiss, which she giggles endlessly about, and Ian carries her off to bed.

It’s the image of Amy’s ghost following them from the room that causes my smile to drop and the reminder of loss to rise.

W
HILE IAN PUTS PIPPA
down, I go and get ready for bed. I wash the sadness and smeared makeup off my face and change into a T-shirt of Ian’s that he left lying around. I snuggle into the guest bedroom that I’ve been calling home for the past almost two weeks.

I’ve already laid my head down when I hear the creaking of the door open and close. I lift my head to see Ian walking toward the bed.

“Is she down?” I ask as he makes it to my side of the bed and sits.

“She is. She’s a strong kid. She’ll get through this.” He lifts his hand to brush the side of my cheek. “How are you doing?’ he asks, trying to be gentle with me.

“I’m okay,” I reply. “I just feel foolish. I’m supposed to be the adult here and I can’t even keep it together long enough to try and help console a child.” Makes me feel defeated.

Ian climbs into bed and pushes me onto my back. “You did great with her. She listens to you. You both are doing as well as anyone could expect.”

“How well should I be doing? I’m a total failure as a sister and a complete nitwit as an aunt. I can’t even help Pippa understand her dreams.”

“Chris, stop. Stop worrying so much about this. You are both grieving. Just in your own ways. She’s four. She’s confused.”

“Yeah and I’m twenty-six and have been absent. I haven’t been here for Pippa. She doesn’t even know me. I don’t even know me.”

“Hey.” He fights my hands away from my weeping face. “Hey, stop it.”

“I was never here, Ian. I was never around to know. I didn’t know Amy was married. I didn’t know she had a daughter. I am sick with guilt. And hate. And I don’t know what to do with all that.” I stare at him with clouded eyes, urging him to tell me it’s okay. But I know he can’t.

“You just have to let the guilt go.”

“Well, I can’t. How do I live with this? With what’s happened. How do I go on knowing what a horrible person I am? How do I continue to live when two great people died?”

He climbs fully on top of me and threads his fingers into mine. “Christina Daniels, I swear if you say one more crazy thing I will . . . I will do
something.
Amy never thought badly of you. She didn’t hate you.”

“She didn’t?”

“She talked about you endlessly. How she missed you. How she wondered if you still liked pickle sandwiches. There would be times when we would all be hanging out doing something and she would just blurt out, ‘Chrissy would love this.’ Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Amy loved you. And she knew deep down you loved her. She never forgave herself for what happened. She knew why you left and she accepted it. She accepted it because she owed you that much. She knew you did what you had to do.” He stops to swipe at the endless tears streaming down my face. “She loved you, Chris. I know you haven’t heard that or think that. But she did. You were still her little sister. Whether you were present or not. She made you Pippa’s guardian, for God’s sake.”

Because she had to plan on possibly dying.

I break down in Ian’s arms. I cry. And I cry and I cry for every moment I missed with my sister. I cry because I wish our lives were different. I wish we were granted normal childhoods with two present, normal parents. I wish our lives weren’t so hard and
struggle
wasn’t the main word in my adolescent vocabulary. I cry because I miss her. I miss her stories. Her laughter. Her dreams. Ian holds me as I let it all out, wishing to be swallowed into his embrace and away from all this sadness.

In time, the pain eases and the crying fades. I eventually loosen my tight grip on Ian’s chest and pull away. I lift my head and take in those beautiful green eyes that have always turned my world on its axis. I reach forward and place a simple kiss on his lips. I pull away and watch his eyes flutter back open and connect with mine.

“I need you to make love to me,” I beg. I need his warmth, his comfort and, most importantly right now, his love.