Ava
Parks, they say, are the one place on earth where even the most caged souls can taste a little bit of freedom.
Granted, I have no idea who they are, but surely they must be right because the look I see on Kira’s face as she runs through the park-one of the less crowded, more private ones, of course-is one filled with pure excitement.
Black curls bounce with the wind as she waves at me, her lips stretched thin and smile wide as she spins around right there in the middle of it all.
I wave back at her, my heart full.
Getting Nikolai’s approval was surprisingly easy.
Too easy.
I’d expected resistance or, at the very least, his disapproval. But he’d been, surprisingly, willing.
I watch Kira chase a butterfly, her giggles mixing with the sound of the other kids in the park and I can’t help the warmth that spreads through me at the sight.
She looks so happy. Free. The complete opposite of the girl who’d wandered into my studio yesterday.
Settling onto the bench, I pull my coat tighter around my body and let my gaze wander over the park. It’s quiet. Peaceful in a way I hadn’t expected. A few Adults sat on nearby benches, with their ward. While some seemed to be too focused to notice anything other than their phones.
Across the grass, a boy no older than seven sprints, his arms flailing as if trying to outrun his own excitement. The corner of my lips starts to turn upwards when I notice him, but the almost smile is short-lived when he tumbles right into my stepdaughter.
The two of them go down and my heart plummets into my stomach. I shoot up from the bench, ready to spring into action when I notice something… well, something odd.
Kira is laughing.
Like full-on, head tilted back, laughing her little ass off.
And so is the boy.
I freeze for a moment, my instincts caught between wanting to go check on her and watching the scene play out in front of me.
Luckily, from where I stand (Which isn’t very far from the collision course), the two children look unharmed.
The boy scrambles to his feet first, offering Kira his hand. She takes it without hesitation, still giggling, as he helps her up. Kira snaps her attention to me, throwing me a thumbs up to let me know that she’s okay and I feel my shoulders instantly relax
“Is she your kid?” a voice cuts in from behind me. I turn to find a woman rounding the bench and sinking into the empty seat beside me. Her blonde hair is a messy mix of waves and curls that she ties in a loose ponytail that does little to tame the wild strands.
She exhales softly as she settles in, adjusting the strap of the worn-out tote bag hanging off her shoulder. Her eyes are the second thing I notice about her. They are a remarkable shade of blue that reminds me of the lazy tides of the ocean, warm and tired and yet strong in their pull.
“That’s my son,” she continues, nodding toward the boy who was now playing a game I didn’t recognise with my stepdaughter. “Oliver. He’s not usually this bold with new kids.”
I tilt my head to the side. She had an accent. Australian maybe?
I glance back at the two children. The boy, who was now identified as Oliver, was now talking animatedly to Kira about God knows what. The pair look as if they’ve been friends from the moment they dropped on this planet and for that I’m immediately grateful that the boy quite literally collided with my stepdaughter
A smile tugs at my lips and it’s then I realize that I’ve just witnessed the start of a beautiful friendship.
“She’s usually not this open either,” I admit turning once more to the woman.
She shifts slightly, extending her hand toward me. “I’m Tyler,” she says.
“Ava,” I reply taking it. Her hands are rough, the kind that speaks of hard labour and even rougher days. My father used to say that you could tell a lot about a person from a handshake and I hadn’t realised what he meant until now. Tyler’s grip was firm and strong which tells me straightaway that so is she.
“Nice to meet you, Ava,” Tyler says, leaning back and stretching out her legs in front of her. “Not to sound like a total creep, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around here before. Are you new here?”
“New?”
She laughs, “Yes new. Not to sound rude or anything like that but you couldn’t stick out more even if you tried.”
“Excuse me?”
“Is this your first day?”
I screw my brows together, “First day?”
Now it’s her turn to look confused.
“Aren’t you the nanny?”
I blink.
The nanny?
She thinks I’m the nanny?
I can tell by her expression that she doesn’t mean it as an insult, but still, the assumption throws me off.
It forces me to glance down at my attire. The blue jeans I’m wearing and plain pink sweater don’t particularly stand out against the coat I’m wearing, but even at that, I don’t think anything I’m wearing screams ‘the nanny’.
Tyler must catch my hesitation because she tilts her head, brows slightly raised. “You’re not?”
I shake my head. “No. I’m-” My voice hitches for the briefest second. What was I going to say? Mother? God knows I don’t deserve that title.
“I’m her stepmother.”
Tyler’s eyes widen slightly before understanding slowly creeps into her blue depths.
“Oh,” she says, dragging out the syllable, “I see. I’m sorry, you just… you just look so young… and I just assumed that… how old did you say you were?”
I didn’t but that doesn’t stop me from replying with a simple “Twenty one”
“Damn, I can’t imagine having to be someone’s mother at that age.”
But I’m not her mother. I want to say. I wish I were, but I’m not and I don’t deserve to be. And if Kira were to ever find out that my father was responsible for the death of her real mother, I’m sure she’d feel the same way.
“Neither did I,” I say, forcing a smile, “But her father can be very… persuasive.”
I wince at my choice of words because persuasion does not even begin to cover how Nikolai and I got married. Now, threatened? That would be a more accurate description.
“Wow,” She says, “You must be really in love with her father to agree to marry him so young.”
Her words almost cause me to laugh. Oh, if only she knew.
Sensing my hesitation, Tyler leans back and lets out an awkward laugh, “I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable. I have a nasty habit of saying whatever pops into my head.”
I can only nod.
“It’s just that, most women in this park either work for rich families or married into them,” Tyler continues, her voice light but observant as she corks her head to the side, slowly dragging my gaze over my body, “And you don’t exactly look like the ‘high society trophy wife’ type.”
My lips twitch, “Is it the jeans?”
“Oh, it’s most definitely the jeans”
The two of us burst out laughing and I don’t know what exactly is it about this woman that puts my entire self at ease.
“What about you?” I ask when our laughter dies down.
She arches a brow, “What about me?”
“Are you a nanny or a trophy wife?”
Tyler sinks further into the bench, stretching her limps, “I’m, unfortunately, the nanny.” She answers, nodding towards a brown-haired little girl by the swingset, “And that over there is my boss’s daughter.”
The little girl looks to be about the same age as her son and my stepdaughter, but unlike the other two children who are currently finding their own form of entertainment, the little girl sits alone, dragging the tip of her shoe across the dirt.
Tyler exhales, her expression softening. “Her name’s Emma. I watch her while her parents do whatever it is rich people do when they’re too busy to raise their own kid.”
I follow her gaze, watching as Emma scuffs her foot against the ground. Her small hands clutch the edge of the swing, but she doesn’t push off.
“She seems sweet”
Tyler snorts, “She isn’t much of a talker but she’s a total menace once you get to know her.” There’s no real bite to her words, though, just exasperated fondness.
Kira and Oliver take that exact moment to run towards the swing where Emma sits. Kira skids to a stop right in front of the swing set, her bright green eyes brimming with unabashed excitement as she says something to Emma that I can’t quite make out.
The little girl lowers her gaze, her grip around the chains of the swing tightening. It looks like she’s rejecting whatever invitation Kira has put out, but my stepdaughter doesn’t give up so easily.
She takes hold of Emma’s hand and I watch as the little girl’s features morph into one of surprise as Kira pulls her off the swing.
Kira smiles, and so does Oliver, and a little voice in the back of my mind informs me that I have not only seen my daughter make her first friend but her second friend as well.
Looks like I was worried for nothing.
Tyler thinks so, too, because the woman exhales a low whistle beside me, shaking her head with an amused smirk. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
I smile, “Looks like both your kids already have a soft spot for mine.”
She snorts again, which, in turn, makes my smile widen.
Twenty minutes later, Kira, Oliver and Emma ran towards the both of us, a grin stretched wide across each of their faces. Their cheeks are completely flushed from all the running around in the dirt, and little mud stains splatter across each of their clothing, and yet they still look like they’re ready for another round.
Kira is practically vibrating with excitement as she tugs on my coat sleeve.
“Ava! Ava! Guess what?” she says practically buzzing, I laugh as I try to stop her from jumping
“What?”
“I invited Oliver and Emma to my birthday party in two days.”
I glance down at her, my eyebrows lifting in surprise. “Oh, did you now?”
I wonder what Nikolai would say about that.
Kira nods enthusiastically, her curls bouncing with the movement. “Yes! And they said yes!” She beams, looking up at Oliver and Emma for confirmation. The two kids nod eagerly, their faces mirroring her excitement.
I let out a laugh and so does Tyler.
“That’s great and all”, Tyler pipes up from beside me once she sobers up, “But Emma, sweetheart, you know how your parents are about this sort of thing.
Emma’s small fingers tighten around the hem of her dress, her excitement dimming just a little. “But I wanna go,” she mumbles, barely loud enough to be heard.
I turn to Tyler, examining her and the little girl’s interaction. It’s clear that she cares for the child, maybe even more than her parents do but she also knows that her role as her nanny is limited.
She’s a nanny and therefore can’t do much without Emma’s parents’ confirmation prompting her to.
Kira, ever the determined little force of nature, steps closer, her green eyes filled with stubborn resolve. “She has to come,” she insists, looking between me and Tyler like we hold the ultimate power over Emma’s fate.
Tyler sighs, rubbing the back of my neck as she glances back at me.
“I’ll have to check with her parents. I make no promises, but I’ll see what I can do, okay darling?”
Like I said, it’s clear that her hands are tied.
Tyler lifts from the bench, straightening.
“Well, guess we better get going. I have to get these two back before sundown.” She says.
The two of us exchange numbers and Kira says goodbye to her new friends. I try not to notice the way her smile fades as we head back to the car but it’s hard not to.
“Do you think Emma’s parents will let her come?” Kira asks me once I have her settled in the backseat. She looks up at me expectantly and I don’t know how to tell her that they probably won’t.
At some point in my life, I was an Emma. I didn’t have many friends, and when I finally managed to make a friend, her parents found out who my father was and forbade her from ever seeing me again, while I hoped that wasn’t going to be the case for Kira, it wouldn’t be out of the ordinary of that were to happen.
Her father was part of the Russian Mafia and not just as a member but as the boss. If Emma’s parents were to find out who Kira really was I had no doubt in my mind that they’d stop Emma from coming to her birthday party. Tyler too.
But of course I don’t tell her that.
I force a smile and rest a hand on top her curls as I offer her the only words I seem to be able to muster at the moment.
“We’ll just have to wait and see now, won’t we?”