Come To Me (Owned 3)

I chuckled. “I am listening.”

Running up to me, she grabbed me by the lapels. “No really listen to me. I’m a mess. I’m no good. I’m the worst. It goes Hitler, Stalin, then me.” She counted the names off on her fingers.

I nodded, as if really accepting what she said. “I think you have that list a bit out of order. Doesn’t it go Hitler, you, Stalin?” I counted the names back to her.

She punched me in the chest, laughing despite her cries. “You’re not listening…” Lenny relaxed her head into my chest, fingers still gripping my lapels. Slowly I peeled her hands from my jacket and put them into my own. Her sobs disintegrated into broken sighs and I held her until an uneven calm washed over us. When she started to speak she kept her face pressed into my chest, mumbling into my jacket so quietly I almost didn’t hear her.

“I don’t feel like I have a right to your feelings when I don’t even know mine.”

“On the days you forget your feelings.” I gently tugged at her shoulders, pushing her off my chest to command her eyes. “I will love enough for the both of us.” Her eyebrows relaxed and her lip softened. It was so easy to get lost, looking into her face. Lenny never just looked at you; she devoured you. She consumed you. Her eyes were equal parts beauty and crystal ball. I bent down, pulling her into a kiss.

“Ophelia deserves more than me,” she sighed as we broke apart.

“You are a wonderful mother to Ophelia Mei.” I tilted her chin so she had to look into my eyes. “Who got up every two hours to tilt her head and make sure her skull formed properly?”

Lenny shrugged out of my grasp and walked away. “That doesn’t make me a good mother.”

“Who enrolled Mei in dual immersion so she could learn Japanese?” I demanded of her retreating figure.

“It helps promote early development.” She waved dismissively over her shoulder. “Still doesn’t make me a good mother.” That was absolute bullshit. The day Lenny had learned my real name, a fire started to brew inside her. She had many

questions, but she kept them to herself. I knew she thought I’d been robbed of something—my culture, maybe, my childhood, definitely. When Mei was born, she slowly started introducing more Japanese elements into our life, as if I wouldn’t notice that we suddenly spoke Japanese in the house.

Or maybe she knew I would, and that was the point.

“Where is Mei right now?”

“With Lissie and Zoe.”

“When was the last time she ate?”

Lenny huffed a sigh. “What are you trying to do?”

“Is Mei starving?” I pressed.

“Of course not!” Lenny snapped her head over her shoulder. “She had formula two hours ago and a snack an hour ago.”

“What was she doing between then?”

“Playing…” Lenny paused, smiling. “You know, she’s like crazy into blocks and stuff. She can’t build for shit obviously, but she loves to knock them over.” I did know.

“What makes a good mother?”

Lenny’s smile dropped. “I know what you’re doing.”

“Tell me what you think makes a good mother.”

“I don’t know, but not me!” Lenny threw up her arms and fell into a chair. With her eyes in a glare, she challenged me to defy the statement. I knew nothing I could say would meet the challenge though; she was convinced.

“All right, then.” I shrugged. “Let’s give her up.”

“What.” It wasn’t a question; the word came out gritted to match her now furious eyes. Gripping the shoulders of the chair, Lenny sat forward.

“Come on, let’s go give her away.” I gestured behind me at the door. “Maybe a nice Kiwi family will adopt her.” The fury in her dissipated like smoke sucked up through an air vent. She released the chair, slinking back.

“I know what you’re doing,” Lenny grumbled.

“Did it work?”