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I sit on the chair and look at her distraught little face. Jayden missed his call to her last night. She remembered before she went to sleep. When I said he was probably busy, she didn’t say a peep, just snuggled down with Bear, but it obviously had an effect on her. She hasn’t seen him for six months. She must feel as if he doesn’t love her at all.
“You want a hug?” I ask. When she nods, I pick her up and put her on my lap, and she throws her arms around my neck.
“They left,” she whispers.
I stroke her back and sigh. “I’m sorry.”
She rests her cheek on my shoulder. “I like Mitch.”
“Me too.”
“I don’t want him to go.”
“He’ll be here a bit longer, but he will have to go eventually. He lives in Wellington.”
“I want him to stay.”
“I know, but you can’t make people do what you want them to do by behaving badly.”
“If I’m good, will he stay?”
I sigh again. “Ah, honey, it’s not about you. People have responsibilities and things they have to do. But if you’re good, it means he’ll have nice memories of you, and that’s just as important. You don’t want him to think of you as a baby, do you?”
She shakes her head solemnly.
“No, I didn’t think so. And only babies throw tantrums when they don’t get what they want.” I kiss her wet cheek. “Now come on, we don’t want to be late. Let me find my bag, and we’ll get going.”
Within five minutes, we’re walking down the hill towards the daycare centre. It’s situated opposite the primary school in a pleasant building with windows covered with ‘stained-glass’ made by the children with tissue paper, filling all the rooms with jewel-coloured light.
Millie is now quiet and compliant, and when we walk in, she runs off quite happily to sit with her friend and start playing with the Duplo bricks.
“Everything okay?” Lettie asks, coming over.
“Had a bit of a tantrum this morning,” I say.
“You or her?”
We both laugh.
“Her,” I continue. I sigh. “Jayden didn’t call last night.”
She tuts and frowns, looking over at Millie. “Poor little thing.”
“And now she’s latching on to Mitch and making his life a misery.”
“He’ll cope. He’s a big boy.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
She meets my eyes and smiles.
“Don’t start,” I say wryly, aware that Cate’s probably told her I like him.
She just chuckles. “You off to the bookshop?”
“Yeah. Sorting out again today.”
“All right, have a good day.”
