Primal God (The Defiant God Brotherhood #4)

Chapter 8

8

Lilith

The kids and I settle into a routine over the next few weeks. Between Diego’s therapy, Clara’s ballet, and Isadora’s play dates, we’re often on the go. But my favorite moments are when we’re home, and they pile on me as I read them a bedtime story. It helps with the ache deep in my chest from where I miss Raquel. But Cecely has helped with that, too. She’s started bringing Raquel to the same place that Isadora has her play dates, so I get to see her twice a week, plus on my day off. Somehow, we’re making this work.

I haven’t seen Dr. Santos much, which is good and bad. Good, because I can try to pretend that he means nothing to me. Bad, because there’s a pull deep in my chest that has me wondering what he’s doing. The past few Saturdays, he’s left dressed in a black suit and didn’t come back until late. I have an inkling of where he’s going, but I guess it doesn’t really matter. I mean, it's not like he owes me an explanation.

Clara pulls me from my thoughts by saying, “Diego is coming!”

Tucking my phone in my bag, I stand just as Diego enters the lobby. He’s smiling, which means speech therapy went well. Some sessions are more difficult than others. That’s why I try to treat the children to a snack when we’re out. It makes the bad days feel better and the good days feel like a celebration.

His doctor motions for me and says, “A word, Nanny W.”

I follow her through the same door Diego had just came through, but we go to her office instead of the colorful room Diego usually goes.

I sit across from her and ask, “Is everything okay?”

“Diego made some significant progress today.”

“Does that mean…”

“He spoke, yes.” She smiles. “He said he liked you.”

My eyes water. “He…he said that?”

“Indeed. It seems you’ve been a great help in making him feel safe.”

My throat burns, and I have to clear it twice before I can speak. “Did he not feel safe before?”

“Dr. Santos didn’t tell you why Diego sees me?”

I shake my head, and she frowns.

“Since Dr. Santos signed the HIPPA release form, listing you as an authorized contact, I suppose it’s okay to tell you. Diego hasn’t spoken since he found his mother.”

Horror spreads through me.

“He found her?”

She nods. “Mrs. Santos had passed out and was in distress after going into premature labor. Diego was able to get help, but after that, he withdrew into himself. Since then, he speaks a word here and there. I believe it’s his coping mechanism for his trauma.”

Oh my god. Poor Diego! I’m sure that was so scary for him!

“Is there anything I can do to help him?”

She smiles. “Whatever you’re doing seems to help just fine.” But then her smile fades. “I brought you in here because I don’t want you to let Dr. Santos know.”

“What? Why?”

“Dr. Santos has Diego’s best interest at heart.”

“But?”

“But I fear that he may press Diego, which isn’t what Diego needs.”

“It’s happened before?”

“Once. When Isadora started speaking, Diego said a few words, and Dr. Santos was understandably happy. But when Diego didn’t speak again, Dr. Santos pressed him.”

I wince, knowing how hard it had to be for both of them. And the doctor wouldn’t be asking if she didn’t think it was best for Diego.

I nod. “I won’t say anything.”

“Thank you. I have high hopes that this is a breakthrough for Diego. With any luck, Diego himself will let Dr. Santos know of his progress.”

“Is it…should I mention what happened today to Diego?”

She weighs my question carefully.

“I don’t think it will hurt.”

I nod. “Okay. Thank you.”

“No, thank you, Nanny W. You’ve been a great help to both Clara and Diego. I can see the difference myself.”

“Please, call me Lili.”

She nods. “Have a good day, Lili.”

We shake hands and I make my way to the lobby where Clara and Diego are playing in the corner. Isadora is in her stroller, fast asleep. She’s a clockwork baby, much like Raquel, so I know I have an hour before she wakes up, and I have a few errands I want to run before Clara has ballet.

“Come on, kiddos, let’s go.”

Clara grabs Diego’s hand, and they follow me to the elevator. Outside, we make our way to the black SUV Dr. Santos is letting me drive. I still can’t believe he thinks letting me drive a freaking Mercedes-Benz GLE is no big deal when it is. Hello, this isn’t a vehicle most people drive.

The interior is white leather, and I cringe every time the kids ask for a drink because if they spill something, it likely won’t come out. Even though there’s technically a third row, all three kids sit in the middle row together. It’s amazing that the twins’ forward-facing car seats and Isadora’s rear-facing car seat all fit, but they do.

Once everyone is secure, we head out.

I say, “We’re going to make a little stop before we take Clara to ballet.”

Clara asks, “Where are we going?”

“I need to grab something from Target, then we’re celebrating.”

I glance in the mirror in time to see both twins grin at each other.

“What are we celebrating?”

“Diego had a very good day at speech therapy.”

Clara says to her brother, “You did? I’m happy, Diego!”

He grins back at her but says nothing. It’s okay. We’ll get there.

We arrive at the store, and I pull into one of their online order pick up spots. A moment later, the items I ordered are in the back of the SUV and we’re on our way to a nearby ice cream shop.

It is close enough to the ballet studio that we can walk, so I park and we head inside. Both kids are excited when they hear they get to pick out two flavors.

Clara is first, and says, “Vanilla and strawberry!”

I turn to Diego. “Do you want the same?”

He shakes his head and points.

“Chocolate and banana?”

He nods.

I say to the woman behind the counter, “One vanilla and strawberry and two chocolate and banana, please.”

Diego looks questioningly at me.

“I love chocolate and banana. Did you know Joao likes it, too?”

Diego nods again, smiling.

“Joao must have told you how yummy it was. He told me, too, a long time ago.”

Our ice cream is handed over and we make our way to a table near the window. Clara dives in, getting ice cream on her face while Diego takes his time.

I watch both, noticing how they seem to speak to each other, saying nothing out loud.

Clara turns to me and says, “Diego talked a little at therapy today. Did you know? Is that why we’re celebrating?”

Her statement solidifies my theory that they are indeed having silent conversations with each other.

“I did know, and, yes, that’s why we’re celebrating.”

Clara says, “I wish Diego would talk more. I miss his voice.”

Diego stills at this, spoon halfway to his mouth.

“Diego will talk when he’s ready. Until then, we’re going to support him.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means we’ll be there for him. Sometimes just knowing someone is there for you is enough.”

Clara seems to mull over my words. “I guess.” She turns her gaze to Diego. “But you have to promise you’ll start talking again.”

Diego gives her a small nod and resumes eating his ice cream. Clara does the same until both are finished.

“Ready for ballet?”

“Yes!” She turns to Diego. “Are you sure you don’t want to try?”

He shakes his head vigorously, making me chuckle to myself. I’m guessing Clara has asked this of Diego many times before. Over the past few weeks, I’ve started to think of Clara as Whirlwind Clara. She moves around, creating chaos, and then moves off just as quickly as she came. Diego, on the other hand, is reserved and quiet. It’ll be interesting to see what personality Isadora has.

The thought makes me frown, because I won’t be around to see what kind of personality she has. And I hate how much that thought hurts. But not as much as knowing that these kids will never know their younger sister.

Clearing my throat, I say, “Let’s go.”

We walk the short distance to the studio. Clara runs in, going to her class, while Diego and I settle in two chairs after I park Isadora next to my chair. A lot of people just drop off their kids, but I’d rather be here, just in case. Plus, from my seat, I have a lovely view of Clara’s class. It’s adorable watching her and her classmates try to learn the moves. Surprisingly, Clara seems to be a natural, and that’s not just because I’m biased.

While we wait, I go over the schedule for the rest of the week. Tomorrow, Isadora has a playdate that the twins will attend. We have a slight break before the twins have a routine checkup with their pediatrician. The rest of the week is just as busy. It’s crazy that these kids have more of a social life than me.

Cecely

Thanks for sending over some

I didn’t realize how many diapers R went through.

LOL tell me about it! Let me know if you need more.

We’re good. How’s ballet?

Good! Diego had a good day at therapy, too.

That’s great. We’re just chilling on the couch.

A picture comes through that has me smiling. I notice Diego is looking at my screen, and my chest tightens. It’s moments like this where I think about saying ‘fuck it’ and telling Dr. Santos everything. But I don’t because I’m scared.

I’m about to put my phone away when it buzzes.

Adam

You still alive, Lilith-not-from-the-bible?

I am. Are you?

Barely. It’s been rough.

Why?!

Because I haven’t talked to you in weeks.

Sorry. Been busy with the new job.

You’re forgiven, but only if you say you’ll meet up with me soon.

How soon?

I’m free now.

As much as I wish I could, I don’t have a free day until Sunday.

Sunday it is!

Shall I pick you up?

No, I’ll meet you.

Wait.

Where are we going?

It’s a surprise, so let’s just meet at the library at six.

Wear something nice!

See you on Sunday.

I’m smiling when I tuck my phone into my bag. When I look up, I find Diego watching me.

“My friend was texting. He wants to take me somewhere on Sunday.” I let out a small laugh. “I guess it’s a date of sorts. I can’t remember the last time I went on a date.”

I don’t know why I’m blabbing to Diego. He likely couldn’t care less that I haven’t been on a date.

I exhale softly. I really need to get out more.

“Anyway, it’s just nice to have someone that wants to spend time with me.”

He scowls, reminding me so much of his father. Goodness, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, it seems.

“Not that I don’t like spending time with you, Clara, and Isadora,” I quickly add. “In fact, the three of you are like my best friends.”

He smiles, as if this pleases him, and I decide to take my win while I can, changing the subject.

“I have a project when we get home. Will you help me?”

He looks at me, dark eyebrow lifted. Guess he wants more information before agreeing.

I bite back a laugh and continue, “I bought a rack for our shoes.”

God knows I’ve tripped over their shoes a million times in the past few weeks. They kick them off wherever they see fit, not caring that an innocent nanny might trip on them in the middle of the night. The first time it happened, I shrugged it off. But last night made the third time, which is why I jumped online and found a rack to put by the front door. It might not work, but it’s worth a shot.

Diego nods, and I smile.

“Thank you. When we’re finished, we’ll have to see if Chef will let us make some cookies.”

While Clara can’t stand still long enough to bake, Diego has joined me in the kitchen a few times to help me make desserts. Luckily, the chef has turned out to be a big teddy bear and doesn’t mind when we crash his space. As long as I clean up afterward, of course. I make a mental note to find out what desserts he likes. It’s the least I can do, really.

An hour later, Clara’s ballet class is over and she rushes out with even more energy than before.

“Nanny W! I got invited to a sleepover!” She all but screams as she waves a pink envelope in the air.

I notice a few others with the same invitation in their hands as they leave.

“That’s really exciting, Clara.”

She shoves the envelope in my hand and asks, “Can I go?”

“We’ll have to talk to your father, but I don’t think it should be a problem.”

Clara turns to Diego. “You can come, too, Diego. Jessica is a twin, and her brother said you’re invited.”

Diego nods, but doesn’t look so sure. I’ll have to do some digging before I press the issue. It will be good for him to get out, but only if he’s comfortable.

“Okay, kiddos. Let’s go.”

We make our way to the SUV and, nearly an hour later, we’re back at the house. Clara runs in first, kicking off her shoes. Diego follows me into the kitchen, where I grab Isadora a little snack.

Chef says, “I can keep an eye on her if you need to unload the SUV.”

“You’re a lifesaver.”

He winks at me as I carry Isadora to her highchair. I think he has a small crush on me, but, sadly, he’s not my type.

His boss on the other hand…

Turning to Diego, I say, “Let’s build that rack!”

He follows me back to the SUV, where I unload the shoe rack and take it to the foyer. Luckily, it’s easy to set up and we have it snapped together within ten minutes.

“Want to try it out?”

He nods, kicking off his shoes and placing them neatly on the top shelf.

Clara comes out of the living room at that moment and stops.

“What’s that?”

“It’s for our shoes. That way we always know where they are.” I give her a pointed look. “And so people don’t trip over them in the middle of the night.”

She gives me an ornery grin. “Sorry, Nanny W.”

“Why don’t you grab your shoes and set them next to Diego’s?”

She does, tossing them next to her brother’s. I guess it’s better than nothing. And maybe she’ll get better, even though I doubt it. Like I said, Whirlwind Clara.

“Diego and I are going to make some cookies. Do you want to help?”

“No, I want to go play.”

“Okay. We’ll call you when the cookies are ready.”

She dips her head and disappears back to the living room.

In the kitchen, I pull out my phone and turn on a kid-appropriate play list as Diego and I get to work. We make chocolate chip cookies because Diego likes them best.

We’re just finishing up when Dr. Santos enters through the garage.

“Something smells good in here,” he says as he grabs one of the gooey cookies, popping it into his mouth. “Chef, you’re outdoing yourself.”

Chef says, “Thank you, sir.”

My lips part. Is Chef really going to sit there and take credit for the cookies that Diego and I made? He turns, getting back to work on dinner. Guess so. What a freaking jerk!

Diego tugs at my hand and then looks at his dad. I understand what he’s getting at, but it’s just not worth it.

I squat to his level and say, “It’s okay, bud. We know who made them.”

Diego gives me a small smile before rushing off. I turn my attention to Isadora, who is happily playing with the dry cereal on her tray.

“I scheduled an interview with a potential nanny two weeks from Tuesday. It was the earliest she could meet with me.”

This gets my attention, and I meet his gaze. “What time?”

“Five. Is that acceptable?”

“Yes. Do you…do you still want me to sit in on the interview?”

He dips his head. “I do.”

A rush of feelings courses through me, making it hard to breathe. I knew he would be looking for a permanent nanny, but I didn’t expect it to happen so soon. What if this nanny is a perfect fit and he no longer needs me? I glance at Isadora. What will I do then?

But I answer him, “Okay. I’ll be there.”

I’m about to find a reason to take Isadora and get out of the kitchen when Clara bursts in.

“ Papai! Guess what!”

He catches her as she launches herself at him. “What Clara-bear?”

“I got invited to a sleep over! And Diego and Nanny W made cookies!”

His gaze meets mine. “They did?”

“Diego said they’re the best he ever had.”

Diego appears at that moment and smiles shyly at his father.

“Well, I knew they tasted better than usual. No offence, Chef.”

Ha! Chef has nothing to say to this.

Clara says, “And look what Nanny W and Diego did!”

She points, and so he walks. I follow them, curious to see what she’s going to show him. They come to a stop in the living room, and it dawns on me. The shoe rack. I glance at him. Is he going to say anything about it? I mean, it doesn’t exactly go with the aesthetic around here. Should I have asked first?

He turns to me. “Very nice and much appreciated. Did you use the card to pay for it?”

My cheeks are warm. “I used my card. It wasn’t very much.”

He sets Clara down and reaches into his pocket, pulling out his billfold. “How much was it?”

“Really, it’s okay.”

“Ms. Wolfe,” he all but growls.

Clara giggles. “Wolfe is your last name?”

I nod at her. “It is. That’s what the ‘W’ in Nanny W stands for.”

“I’m glad you don’t go by Nanny Wolfe. That would be kind of scary. For Diego,” she quickly adds.

She laughs again and then rushes off.

“Really, it’s okay. It was like twenty bucks. No big deal.”

He pulls out two twenties and hands them to me. Part of me wants to walk away, but I know that won’t go over very well, so I take the money, tucking it into my pocket. I’ll just use it to buy ice cream next week.

“How did the children do today?”

I smile. “Excellent. As you heard, Clara was invited to a sleepover. Diego was invited, too, but I’m going to do a bit of digging to make sure he knows the boy.”

Dr. Santos says, “It’s fine. I know the family.” At my look, he says, “Jessica’s mother reached out to me earlier today.”

I hate that I feel…dismissed.

The smile on my face feels forced. “Well, that’s good. I’m sure the twins will be excited to go.” I take a step away from him. “Have a good night, Dr. Santos.”

With that, I walk away, hating that I feel so…useless.