My cheeks heat with his praise . . . or maybe it’s the sexy gaze, and I have to turn away to hide a smile. Get your shit together, Clara. He left you. “Did you guys eat dinner?” I ask, trying desperately to change the subject.
“We stopped and had a sub on the way.”
“Good.” I nod and turn, closing the dishwasher.
“Got the laptop!” Neena announces as she rushes back in. “Can we make popcorn, Mom?”
I struggle to hide my lack of enthusiasm. It’s not that I don’t want to make popcorn with my child. It’s just . . . The more I’m around Paul, the more I lose my grip on reality. I cannot fall for Paul James again. I simply can’t. I don’t think I can survive losing him again. My fear of losing Neena, if I lose Neena, will kill me. I’m not ready to endure being left by Paul yet again. You can do this, Clara. You can do this for Neena. She wants me to get along with Paul, and that’s what I plan to do . . . for her.
“You two get the videos going and I’ll get it ready,” I manage after a moment, plastering a forced smile on my face.
If she notices, it doesn’t show. “Come on, Paul,” Neena calls. Paul turns to me with a soft and grateful smile. Before he follows her, he mouths, thank you.
Nodding once, I watch them exit and inhale deeply. You can do this, Clara.
I’ve been back in town for a little over two weeks now and I’ve spent as much time as Clara will allow with Neena. Clara seems to be particularly wound up tight, but I think it’s because we’re waiting on the results to find out if I’m a match or not. Not being a match would knock me to my knees. She’s an amazing little girl.
“Right here,” Neena points to a page in a magazine. I’ve just stopped at a red light, so I look over to see what she’s pointing at.
“Corcovado?” I question, surprised. Corcovado is a mountain in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, topped with a Christ the Redeemer statue.
“Brazil would be number one on my list, well, there and China,” she mentions excitedly, pulling the magazine back in her lap and staring down at the page.
“I love Brazil,” I tell her.
“I know,” she says. “Marcus told me. That’s one of the reasons I’ve always wanted to go.” She’s breaking my heart here.
I clear my throat and hit the gas when the light turns green. I hate that she’s grown up hearing about me from other people. That she’s grown up wondering about me. Before I can respond, she adds, “I would look at pictures from amazing places and imagine you there. I guess . . .” She pauses. “I guess it made me feel like I knew you. Or maybe, kind of like I was there with you in some way.” When I glance over at her, she twists her mouth and darts her eyes back at the magazine. “That sounded so stupid,” she says, embarrassment washing across her face.
Gently, I grab her tiny wrist and give it a little squeeze. “No, it doesn’t, Neena.”
“What’s it like there?”
“It’s beautiful,” I communicate. “You can see jungles on one end and beautiful beaches with blue water on the other. The food is amazing; papayas, tropical bananas, mangos . . .”
“Is that why you like it? The food?”
“That’s part of it.” I shrug. “I went there for the first time when I was nineteen because a buddy of mine told me that’s where the most beautiful women in the world are.”
Neena grins. “Is that true?”
I chuckle lightly. “They do have some good-looking women there. No doubt about that.”
“More beautiful than Mom?”
I inhale and can’t help but smile at her question, but I answer her honestly. “There is no woman in this world like your mother. Believe me, I’ve looked.”
Neena looks down at the magazine again. “Is that where you’ve been all this time?”
“No. I’ve . . . kind of been all over.”
“Will you go back? To Brazil, I mean?”
“Maybe, one day. But right now, I’d rather hang out with you.”
She looks back up at me and gives a halfhearted smile. “Maybe you can take me there, some day.” The statement would sound hopeful if it was coming out of a healthy child’s mouth. But hearing her say it, it sounds like she knows it’ll never happen. But that doesn’t stop me from promising it anyway.
“I’d like that,” I reply.
When we pull into the office lot, I notice several vans in the parking lot, including the one the news reporter kids from the local high school were in the other day. Several people lollygag around outside on the sidewalk as we park.