My natural reaction is to point out that I am sharing. It’s her who’s not taking turns. But then I’m reminded that she’s four, and I’m just not going to get my turn.
Dammit. I had a good place figured out too.
“How about we pop some popcorn and watch a movie instead?” I ask her. Because, while I like playing with her, her hiding spots suck.
“Yes! The Little Mermaid!”
“Uh, sorry, sweetheart,” Jaxi’s voice calls out from behind us. “How about we get to bed instead?”
I turn around to see Jaxi standing in a short pair of shorts and a tee. She holds her head to the side and squishes the ends of her wet hair with a towel.
The sight of her like that—so natural and comfortable—makes my stomach tighten in the best fucking way.
“What?” she asks me.
“I was just thinking that going to bed doesn’t sound like a terrible idea.”
She cracks a grin. “I was talking to Rosie.”
“No bed!” Rosie says.
“But why not me?” I tease.
She drops her towel to her side. “You, behave.”
“You’re no fun,” I say as I stand. “Come on, kiddo. Time for bed.”
I reach for Rosie’s hand, but she jerks it away.
“No. You said we could watch a movie,” she says, stomping her foot.
I raise my brows. “I didn’t realize it was bedtime.”
She crosses her arms tightly across her chest and gives me what I think is the meanest look a four-year-old can give.
“Let’s go,” Jaxi says, motioning for her to come.
“No.”
I bend back down, figuring it might help if I’m on her level. I’ve seen Bellamy do this with the little girl she babysits.
“We have to go to sleep so we have enough energy to play tomorrow,” I say.
“I don’t want to.”
“I get that. I don’t always want to go to bed either.” Especially on the couch.
I have to do something about that.
“We can read two stories if you come now,” Jaxi tells her.
Rosie scrunches her face up even more and turns her glare to her aunt. “Aunt Jaxi is mean.”
The color drains from Jaxi’s face. I can see her heart breaking right in front of me.
I touch Rosie’s arm to redirect her. She snaps her anger back to me.
“Jaxi isn’t mean,” I say softly. “She loves you. She knows what’s best for you.”
“You’re mean too!”
The room stills around the three of us. There’s a whole lot of emotion drifting through the room, and if I don’t handle this correctly, feelings could get hurt.
“Look, I know you’re angry,” I tell Rosie. “Anger happens sometimes. But when we get angry, we don’t take it out on other people.”
“I am not angry!” Her face turns bright red. “I want to go home. Take me home. I want my mommy!”
Jaxi sucks in a breath behind me. I don’t even try to look at her. My heart cracks with the emotion in Rosie’s words and tone. I can’t imagine how it makes Jaxi feel.
I’ve wondered when this moment would come. Rosie has taken all of this way too easily. I’d hoped that maybe she was a unicorn child and would just take the life transitions thrown at her as easily as it seemed she did.
But I knew better. And now we’re here.
“Do you miss her?” I ask gently. “Do you miss your mommy?”
The frustration on Rosie’s face slips, and her lips begin to tremble. “I miss her.”
“It’s okay to miss her,” I say. “You love her.”
She nods. A strand of hair swings into her face and sticks to her cheek. I reach up and brush it away.
Jaxi kneels next to me. Pain streaks through her eyes. I want to pull her into a hug until it goes away.
“I love your mommy, too,” Jaxi tells Rosie. “And I know it hurts that you can’t see her. I wish I could fix that.”
Rosie hides her eyes with the back of her hand. “I just want to see her.”
A tear slips down Jaxi’s cheek.
I move so that I’m sitting on the floor with my back against the couch. I pull Rosie onto my lap and nudge Jaxi until she’s sitting next to me. Rosie buries her head against my shoulder, wetting the fabric with her tears.
I bring an arm around Jaxi’s shoulder and pull her against me too. She curls up against my side, her hair covering her face, and knots my shirt in her hand as she presses her forehead into my chest.
Soft sobs whisper through the room as I hold my two girls.
My chest feels like it’s breaking in two as they cry for a woman I never knew. I wish I could do more—I wish I could fix this. But there’s nothing to do but sit here and let them mourn their loss.
I rest my head against the top of Jaxi’s and say a silent prayer for them. For Nettie too.