Page 59 of Steele

I smiled at her but pictured my little girl in my mind. “Did you know I have a little girl?”

Her eyes widened. “What’s her name?”

“Matilda Mae, but I call her Matti. I don’t get to see her anymore either. I can’t give her hugs. Even though she’s not next to me, I talk to her all the time. I think she knows that I miss her and that I wish I could be with her. But she’s resting, too. Different than your dad, but I won’t be able to see her for a while.” On the verge of tears, I blinked to keep from crying. “But when I see her, I’ll tell her how I talked to her even though she wasn’t with me.”

Lili scooted off her chair and wrapped her arms around me. “It’s okay, Miss Jaymi.”

I breathed in her sweet scent and hugged her back. For a moment, I pretended she was my little girl. I hugged her harder.

“You should write Matti a letter, too. When I see my dad and when you see Matti we can give them our letters.”

The bell rang, and a moment later, the hall filled with the loud chatter of the kids coming back to class. I snatched the grapes from the table and stood. “Do you want to have your lunch in here with me, and we’ll write our letters?”

For the first time in nearly two weeks, she wore a big toothless, happy smile. The rest of the morning passed in a blur. And when it was time for lunch, I walked with Lili to the lunchroom. We both brought our trays back to the classroom.

Lili ate her hamburger as she wrote her letter. Her tongue poked out from between her lips as she scrutinized her paper. Every couple of minutes, she’d ask me to help her spell words.

I sat at my desk, to Lili it appeared I was working on my letter, but I was actually going over my financials. I’d set up a dedicated account for any money I’d received from Jeff’s death. Our joint bank accounts were in my name now, but I couldn’t trust Astrid wouldn’t attempt to stake a claim on those assets as well.

My attorney thought my best option would be to make a sweetened offer she’d be foolish to refuse.

“Miss Jaymi, how do you spell motorcycle?”

A tingle rippled through my belly. I guess I wasn’t the only girl that liked to see Brett on his bike. I spelled the word slowly as she wrote the letters. A few minutes later, the bell rang.

Lili scrambled out of her chair and rushed to my desk. “Can you hold it for me?” She set her paper on my desk. “But don’t read it yet. It’s not done.”

When my students began to filter into the classroom, Lili was laughing with them. My favorite little girl had her sparkle back. She stayed in during second recess and finished her letter.

“You can read it,” she said.

I folded the letter and put it into an envelope for her. “Do you want to keep it to give to your dad when you see him?”

Her lips twitched as she considered it. “Yes, but can you save it for me? My mom doesn’t like to talk about my dad.”

I slipped the letter into the top drawer of my desk. The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur, and after school, I grabbed takeout on my way home. As I pushed the key into the lock on the door, my phone chirped with an incoming text. I juggled my purse, my bag of Chinese food, and hurriedly opened the door.

Although I wasn’t sure why I was rushing. I hadn’t heard from Brett, and Holly was probably with what’s-his-name. Not that I needed to remember. She’d be done with him in a few days and onto someone new. Yet, I couldn’t get over the one I barely knew.

I hung my purse by the door and put the keys in the bowl on top of the hutch. I pulled my phone from my purse as I slipped off my shoes.

Brett. My heart hiccupped. I turned, sat on the bench of the shoe tree cabinet, and opened the text.

Brett: I’ve attached my results from the clinic. I know you didn’t ask, but I figured it had to be on your mind. With my sexual history, I didn’t want you to worry. I’m clean, Jaymi.

Oh my god. My mind flashed to the pill. The pill I took so I wouldn’t get pregnant but hadn’t considered getting an STD from him. A niggle of uncertainty wormed through my belly. When I’d taken the pill… When I took the pill… I took the pill, right? Worry began to morph into panic.

I glanced toward the kitchen. Admittedly, I’d been a mess that Saturday. As best as I could remember, I ran back what I’d done once I left Brett in the Bearded Goat parking lot.

I’d rushed into the kitchen. If I didn’t take the pill it would be here. I braced my hands on the counter and tried to remember exactly what I’d done when I came home because I couldn’t remember putting the pill in my mouth.

But I didn’t remember climbing the stairs to my room. I didn’t remember to take off my clothes before I climbed into bed. I didn’t remember a lot of shit. But I would’ve remembered taking a little pill to keep me from getting pregnant. I wasn’t so stupid as to risk pregnancy with a guy I barely knew.

I tried to tamp down the panic, but it kept mounting. My chest was tight. I swallowed past the lump in my throat, but it morphed into nausea in my gut. I wasn’t trembling, although my body vibrated as if I was overloading on energy.

Think, Jaymi. If you didn’t take the pill, it would still be here.

I pulled open cupboards, checked the trash, and scanned the counters. Oh god, if it wasn’t here, I had to have taken the pill. The sinking feeling inside me turned into a thousand-pound weight. Where was the stupid pill?