In the morning, I went outside to see if Erik had left my waist pack inside the mailbox. But it was empty. I wondered if I could do without a cell phone for the day but what if he came over and see my eye? What then?

I had stupidly forgotten to put the ice on my face last night, and now the skin beneath my right eye was swollen. There was also a small bruise on my cheek bone, probably where David's ring had hit me. It wasn't too bad, but if one looked closely, they'd spot it. At least a doctor would, I thought. So I piled on the concealer and the make-up, and put on my sunglasses. My plan so far was simple: Go into the studio, get the cellphone and get out. If I was lucky, Erik would have left my waist pack in the studio after attempting to drop it off at the house last night.

I got Michael dressed and loaded him into the car, not even bothering to make him breakfast except for Cheerios in a little baggie. It was still early as I parked the car behind Erik's garage and headed to the private entrance into the studio. Once inside, I sat Michael on the futon and told him to stay there while I quickly went into the bathroom, hoping I'd find my waist pack on the counter.

But it wasn't there, and neither was my phone. When I emerged from the bathroom, Michael was gone and the door leading to the rest of the house was wide open. Then I heard Olivia's voice calling Michael's name.

Cursing, I checked my reflection in the mirror, making sure my sunglasses hid my eyes. Then taking a deep breath, I went out to the living room. What on earth was Olivia doing in Erik's house so early in the morning, I wondered.

The dogs, Thelma and Louise, flanked Michael on either side and he was giggling, Thelma's wagging tail tickling his hand. A few feet away, Bella sat on the floor surrounded by her toys. She was shouting the way babies shout at Michael, as if calling him to join her.

"Michael, let's go, baby," I said. "We can't be bothering your Auntie Olivia."

"Oh, he's not a bother at all! Why don't you join us for breakfast?" Olivia said, mashing some bananas in a bowl.

"We already had breakfast," I lied even as Michael pointed to a whole banana on the table.

"Banana, pewees."

"We only stopped by to get my waist pack. I forgot it last night," I said quickly, trying to pull Michael back towards the studio.

"Oh, your phone! Erik left about twenty minutes ago to drop it off at your house. You just missed each other," Olivia said as Michael tried reaching for the banana on the table. "Is it alright if I gave him a banana?"

"Of course," I said, as Olivia peeled the banana, sliced it into bite-sized pieces and put it in a bowl. I watched her delicate fingers hold the bowl towards Michael. She made everything look so beautiful, I thought, her movements so graceful.

"Here you go, Michael," she said as Michael took the bowl from her and plopped himself next to one of the dogs. "Is it alright that he sits with the dogs? I make sure they're groomed so they shouldn't have any dander. I hope you're both not allergic to dogs."

"We're not."

"Erik told me he met David last night," Olivia said as she looked at me, her eyes narrowing briefly. "If you ever need any help with watching Michael, Sam, you can always leave him with me. Bella needs a playmate besides just her poor mommy."

"I can't possibly do that," I said. "He's a handful. And you've already got your hands full."

She laughed. "Sure you can. Besides Bella's got her own nanny, Consuela. And now, I have Zia Francesca to help me."

"Who's Zia Francesca?"

As if saying her name had summoned her, Zia Francesca Firelli walked into the living room, entering through the door that led to the garden. She was an older woman with a kind brown face and a wide smile, and she began speaking in rapid Italian to Olivia.

"Zia Francesca is Sebastian's aunt. She helped raise him and now she's here for a vacation for a few months. She and the other aunts and uncles want to be here for Bella's first birthday," Olivia said, smiling. "She arrived this morning from Italy and even though she really should get some rest, she's managed to tidy up Bella's nursery and move herself in it. You'd think she didn't have her own room."

Zia Francesca did not speak a word of English. She reminded me of an Italian grandmother in the movies, forever doting on family.

"How long is she staying?"

"She's threatening to stay forever," Olivia laughed. "Actually, three months. The rest of the family should be joining her soon. They didn't think it's a good idea for me to fly Bella all the way there to visit them."

Zia Francesca pulled back a chair and began to speak in Italian, beckoning for me to sit down. I shook my head but she would take no for an answer, getting up and pulling me towards an empty chair. Michael was content, feeding himself on the floor.

There was something about Olivia and Erik that was simple and authentic. They had no hidden agendas. I'd gotten so used to hidden agendas all my life that I wouldn't know real honest-to-goodness affection if it hit me in the face.

But maybe the universe was telling me something, I thought, as I sat down in front of a plate of strawberry crepes and a steaming cup of strong coffee. And if that was the case, then maybe I should shut out the negative thoughts and begin to listen. Really listen.

Erik arrived fifteen minutes later, carrying my waist pack in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. He hugged Zia Francesca, and as I got up from the table to take my waist pack from him, he hugged me, too.

Erik spoke to the older woman in halting Italian, though to my untrained ears, he might as well have been fluent in it. Olivia corrected a few of the things he said but Zia Francesca only shook her head, as if saying not to worry about it. She beckoned for him to sit down, but Erik went to the sink first, and began trimming the flowers before putting them in a vase filled with water.

He placed it on the middle of the table before checking up on the toddlers now sharing bananas and cereal. Bella managed to wear her food once again while shaking a rattle at him, calling him Dada. Zia Francesca then pulled Erik towards the chair and ordered him to eat breakfast.

She made a circling motion over her belly, as if saying she had an upset stomach and wasn't in the mood to eat just yet. Then he set her chair close to the children, cooing in Italian, even calling Michael signorino. Michael was laughing with her, loving the attention. It made me wonder - if my own mother were here, would Michael look at her the way he was looking at Zia Francesca now? But then, would my mother even care that she had a grandson? Heroin was more important to her, for as long as I could remember.

"I drove by your house last night, but you must have gone to sleep already," Erik said.

"You didn't have to do that," I said, grateful that my bruised cheek wasn't facing him, and praying that he wouldn't notice. "I told you I as going to stop by today to pick it up."

"I had to pick up flowers at the Farmers Market in Torrance, so it wasn't a problem," he said. "You're here quite early."

"You're up early," I said.

"We had to pick up Zia Francesca," he said. "Her flight came in early."

"I really didn't want to interrupt anything," I said. "I just came by to pick up my phone."

"Oh, stop it, Sam," Olivia chided. "That's why you have your own key. It's your studio to use anytime you want. And I'm actually very excited to see my finished portrait."

"Liv, you can't impose on the artist. She'll let you see it when she's ready," Erik scolded before turning to face me, grinning. "So, is it ready?"

The rest of the meal was spent laughing over stories Erik and Olivia shared about Bella. Soon, Olivia joined Zia Francesca and Bella on the floor while Michael sat on my lap. He was still hungry and so I fed him some of my crepes. I was beginning to feel more self-conscious, wondering if I had put enough make-up to cover the bruise on my cheek.

Noticing I was quiet, Erik turned towards me. He placed a hand over mine but I pulled it away.

"I'm sorry about last night," I whispered. "I didn't know he was going to do that - stop by the house and insult you."

"I'm a big boy, Sam," Erik said. "I can handle myself. What's wrong with your eye?"

"I got soap in it this morning," I lied, avoiding his gaze. "But it's fine. I put eye drops in it."

"Which one?"

"You mean which eye?" I asked.

"No, which brand eye drops?" Erik said. "Some work better than others."

I didn't own a single bottle of eye drops in the house, I thought, as I tried to remember a brand name. "I can't remember what it was."

Erik caught my hand again, and this time he didn't let go.

"Look at me, Sam," he whispered, and this time, I could not look at him. I used to be able to lie so easily, I thought, back when I was so busy breaking the law because I was too young to know better, and too stupid to care. But now, I couldn't even lie to save my life.

"He hits you," Erik said, his eyes narrowing as he watched me turn to look towards Olivia and Zia Francesca, hoping they didn't hear what he had just said. "That sonofabitch hits you."

I pulled my hand away, left the chair to grab Michael, who was making his way back to the Bella.

"We have to get going," I said quickly. "We need to be someplace by ten."

"Sam, don't run away," Erik said, standing up, his eyes never leaving my face. Michael was crying, refusing to leave. He wasn't even done with his crepes. "You can't be alone with him, Sam. Not anymore."

"It's not that easy, Erik," I said as I grabbed my waist pack from the table and slung it over my other shoulder. Erik was about to say something when his cell phone rang. He looked at the name on the display, cursing under his breath, and that's when I made my escape. By the time he answered his phone, I was halfway out the front door and heading for my car, even as Olivia and Zia Francesca were protesting my departure.

I knew it was Serena the moment I saw her rollerblading towards me.

She was tall, with almond-shaped blue eyes framing a perfect nose and full lips. Her blonde hair hung straight about her shoulders and I bet she used expensive conditioning products - unlike me and my long dark hair that had long lost the fight with frizz.

As I unlocked the door to the car, she rollerbladed past me but did a quick u-turn to peer at me and my beat-up Toyota, as if wondering why I had parked there, of all places. Then she turned around and rollerbladed towards his front door. She pushed open the front door and rollerbladed right inside.

Her toned thighs and calves were to die for, I thought. Her perfectly shaped butt made me want to weep for the imperfections of my own.

Then I thought of Erik, and then his perfect life. His perfect house right on the beach, his perfect sister and niece. His perfect career. His perfect girlfriend.

As I finished buckling Michael into his car seat and got in behind the wheel, my reflection stared back at me from the rear-view window. And there I was, I thought, as I removed my sunglasses and saw my reflection in the mirror, the bruise showing through my make-up.

Imperfect me.