"Good morning."
"How are you?"
"Okay." Then she mouthed, "Bathroom."
I nodded, lifting Jamie's arm so she could slide out from under it. We slowly, carefully, slid out of bed. She went to her bathroom; I went to mine. We met in the hallway.
I didn't know what to say to her. We hadn't said anything to each other since the night before, really, when I screamed at her to run away. She was a good girl, too. She did just what I told her to do without asking questions.
I looked down at her. She looked up at me. Then she wrapped her arms around my legs and squeezed. I did one better-I picked her up, holding her to me. It felt right.
"I'm starving," I whispered. We went downstairs together and fixed cereal. She surprised me when she had no problem talking about the night before.
"It was scary," she said. We sat together on the prep table, side by side. "I didn't know what was gonna happen."
"He was a bad guy," I agreed.
"But Jamie told me I should be brave, so I did my best."
"She told you that, huh?"
"Yeah. She was brave, too. Braver than I was. She wouldn't let me go. They fought and fought and screamed and hit her, but she wouldn't let me go."
I was too choked up to eat. I couldn't imagine it. Gigi seemed strangely calm. Maybe it wasn't real for her yet. It seemed like talking helped, though.
"Did anybody hurt you?"
"No. And I know what you mean, too." She took a mouthful of cereal. I almost spit mine out.
"You do?"
"Mm-hmm. Mommy told me about it a long time ago. She said I should tell her if a man ever hurt me." I didn't know whether to thank Rae for that or to kill her for putting my daughter in a place where she had to think about that kind of thing at her age.
"So nobody did?"
"No. He just pulled my arm." She shrugged. "It doesn't even hurt. It's not like what happened to Erica or Jamie."
"I guess they love you, huh? They fought for you and all. You're a lucky kid."
She thought about it for a minute with a serious look on her face. "Yeah. I guess I am." I didn't laugh, but I wanted to. She was such a grown up kid.
"Jamie told me you would come, too. And you did."
That stunned me. "She told you that?"
"Yeah. She was right. You came. Everybody came. It was a lot of people."
"It was a lot of people. Everybody wanted to make sure you were safe."
"I couldn't believe it. She was right." My daughter smiled up and me, and my heart just about shattered.
"I'll always come for you, when you need me. I promise."
Two hours later, after everybody else in the clubhouse got up or showed up, and Gigi took the time to hug every one of them and thank them for coming to get her, we went upstairs to wake Jamie up. I carried a tray with food and pain meds, since I figured she would need them.
She was already awake, but not up yet. I helped her sit up, but it was too much, so she stayed on her side while she ate.
"How are you today?"
"I'm doing great." She smiled at me. "Really great." She looked at Gigi. "And you?"
"Excellent." They smiled at each other. I hoped it would always be that way, but wasn't sure. All we could do was wait to see how she dealt with it.
"I've been thinking." Jamie took a bite of her toast. "About where to live."
"What do you mean?"
Jamie glanced at Gigi, then back at me. "You didn't tell her yet?"
"No."
Gigi looked confused, of course. "What's happening? Where am I going?" Her chin trembled. Just like she was two seconds away from crying. She wasn't so excellent.
I put an arm around her. "You're not going anywhere you don't wanna go. I mean it. It's your choice, okay?"
"Okay." She didn't look convinced.
I looked at Jamie for help, but I could read the look on her face. She's your kid. You've gotta do this yourself. I cleared my throat.
"What do you think about living with me from now on?"
She looked up at me, surprised. "I thought I was gonna already."
I had to laugh. "Oh, you did?"
"Yeah. I thought Mommy left me with you."
Her words stung. She already knew. "Well, I talked to Mommy. She's gonna go get better. You know what I mean? Get better?"
"Yeah. She was sick." Gigi nodded. Oh, kid, you don't even know.
"Right. So we talked about it, and even when she gets better … she's not sure she's the right mommy for you. She has a lot of stuff to fix. Like, inside. Does that make sense?"
"Sometimes she would forget to get food for me. Or she would put summer clothes on me in winter." That was all the answer I needed.
"Right. Stuff like that. She has to fix the reason she's like that. So when we talked about it, she said it was okay for you to live with me from now on. But like I said, it's up to you."
She thought about it, but not for very long. "I wanna live with you. If you want me to."
"Of course I want you to." I squeezed her, and she leaned into me with a giggle.
"Here, though?" She looked skeptical.
Jamie cleared her throat. "This is where I come in. This is what I was thinking about."
It was news to me. "What were you thinking?"
"I was wondering if it was a good idea for Gigi to live at your house. It's probably pretty small. Not ready for a little girl to live in it. Far away from school."
"Yeah. All those things." I watched her. She had something she was dying to say.
"Well, maybe you could … I don't know … come live with me." Her voice was very small, almost a whisper.
"What?" Gigi's eyes got very big.
"Only if you wanted to, like your dad said. It's up to you." She looked at me. "You too, Dad."
I smirked. "Nothing like being put on the spot, you know?"
"Jeez, Lance. I didn't mean to do that. I thought we talked about things last night."
"Yeah, well, we didn't talk about moving in together."
"So you don't want to?"
"I didn't say I didn't want to, but it would've been good if we could talk about this alone before we talked about it with other people."
She cracked a smile, and looked at Gigi. "I think that's a yes," she said.
"I want to! I want to! Can we?" My daughter looked up at me. So did Jamie. Fuck. I was screwed for the rest of my life between the two of them.
"Yeah. We can. We'll live in Jamie's house."
Epilogue I
Jamie
"Mom! I can't find my other shoe!"
"Gigi, I swear. I keep asking you to keep them together." I ran up the stairs, ready to give my little girl a good talking-to.
Only she wasn't looking for her shoe. She and Lance stood in front of me with a little cake-how they sneaked a cake into her bedroom, I had no idea. If there was anything I'd learned in the year we'd been together, it was how crafty he could be when needed.
"Happy anniversary!" they both cried out, beaming.
"Anniversary?" I looked from one of them to the other. Gosh, they looked so much alike. It was still startling.
"It's the one-year anniversary of when you said we could all live together. Remember?" Gigi grinned.
"Oh my gosh! I can't believe it's been a year already! Where does the time go?" I shook my head. "I'm usually so good at things like this, too. I always keep dates in mind."
They didn't know I remembered. Lance didn't know I had my own surprise for him either.
"Come on! Cake for breakfast." Lance winked at Gigi, who clapped her hands.
"Hang on," I said warningly. They looked at me with such an identical expression of disappointment, I had to give in. "Okay, fine. A small piece. Then we have to go-we're going to be late as it is."
"There's plenty of time before school starts." Lance hurried Gigi downstairs, the two of them whispering about how great it was that they'd surprised me. I smiled at their retreating figures. They were so alike in so many ways.
We enjoyed our cake-small slices, at my request-before Gigi took a piece of fruit to the car with her in an attempt to balance things out. I kissed Lance goodbye for the day before driving to school with Gigi.
"Did we really surprise you?" she asked from the back seat.
"Totally. I have no idea how you sneaked a cake in on me. You're sneaky people, you and your father." We pulled out of the driveway, leaving Riverview Terrace. It was a beautiful day-far different from the day one year before, when I'd come close to losing her.
There was a sort of perverse feeling to celebrating that day. Yes, I told Lance later that night that I wanted him and Gigi to move in with me, but it still felt like we celebrated a near-tragedy. I guessed it was better than being solemn and wondering "what if." I'd done enough wondering in the past year to carry me through the rest of my life.
She didn't seem to care, or even to remember that it was also a year since the kidnapping. We'd had our rough patches in the weeks after that. Nightmares, crying for seemingly no reason. But she'd bounced back in time, and we'd lived happily together.