“No.”
“Noelle, look at me, please.”
She glanced up, her eyes unhappy and troubled.
I searched my mind, trying to figure out what was upsetting her.
“Are you angry with me? Did I do something wrong?”
She shook her head. “Not you, Dywan.”
“What does that mean?”
“I-I not ’posed to bovver you.”
“Bother me?”
“Mommy thaid I bovvered you. I ’posed to be a good gul today and pway by myself.”
Immediately, I knew Alex had taken my words to heart. My rude, thoughtless words. They had hurt her, and she was trying to protect her daughter.
“Noelle, little one, you’re not bothering me.”
“I not?”
“No. I promise.”
“But Mommy thaid . . .”
I smiled at her. “I’ll talk to Mommy. You go back to being my Noelle, okay?”
The sadness vanished instantly, her delightful smile lighting her face. “You wanna cowwa wif me?”
I swallowed—I really had no idea how to color. Then I looked at the paper she was filling in and realized I could probably handle it. I was unsure what the image was she was creating, or if there was really an image there. It did kind of resemble something Christmassy with its holiday colors.
“Sure.”
Then, to make sure she knew everything was okay, I leaned over and picked her up, settling her on my lap. She giggled and pulled her paper and crayons over, immediately lapsing into her usual chatter, her strange little lisp making me smile. I sipped my coffee, nodding and listening intently to her words, making out most of them. When she leaned back to my chest, tilting her head up as she grinned and laughed about her reindeer picture, I felt an intense wave of tenderness flow through me. The strange sensation of protectiveness I’d been feeling for Alex welled up for Noelle as well—I had even felt the tug of it as I watched Seth slumber. Feelings I had never felt for another person were strong for the entire family.
Alex came through the door, her arms filled with laundry. She stopped when she saw Noelle and me, a frown marring her face.
“Noelle,” she began in a firm voice, “what did I tell you this morning?”
I held up my hand. “She’s fine, Alex. We’re fine.”
Her shoulders were tense, and she looked exhausted. I lifted Noelle off my knee and placed her in my chair. I dropped a kiss to the top of her head. “You keep coloring, okay, Little Owl? I need to talk to Mommy.”
“Otay.”
I approached Alex, who was watching me warily.
“May I speak with you in private?”
She hesitated.
“Please, Alex.”
She nodded. “I’m going to put this in the laundry and start your breakfast. We can talk in the kitchen.”