by J. M. Madden
“It’s beautiful back here,” Jess said, scanning the yard. “I have to mention, though, I couldn’t even tell that a child lived here. I saw toys in the bedroom, but does she not have anything for outside?”
Paul blinked, surveying the lawn again. “I didn’t even think about it,” he admitted. “Our situation has been pretty fluid and I’m kind of playing catch-up in the parenting department.”
Jess nodded, like that had been obvious. “Do you mind telling me how you two came to be together this way?”
Paul didn’t feel like exposing himself any more than he had with this woman. “Hope’s mother and I had a relationship that didn’t work out. She kept Hope away from me for most of her life, and when I finally had investigators track her down, she took me to court to say I was stalking her. The judge took visitation away from me and ruled in her favor. I had four supervised visits in the three years after.”
Jess shook her head. “That’s terrible,” she said.
“It wasn’t until about two months ago that I got custody. Hope’s mother died in a car crash. Unfortunately, Hope was in the car with her, so she probably saw her mother die. She won’t talk to me about it.”
Jess blinked her pretty eyes, her mouth tightening. “Oh, no,” she breathed. “Whether or not you were still connected, I’m sorry for your loss.”
Paul wasn’t sure how he felt about Tara. Bitter and angry, definitely, but he hadn’t been heartbroken by their breakup, not by any means. As terrible as it sounded, he was a little relieved and vindicated.
Damn, that sounded bad. He felt guilty for even thinking it.
“So,” he continued, “I’m learning as I go, here. I’m an administrator at a hospital and I’ve been taking her into work with me, and some of the nurses are more than happy to give advice. Even if I don’t want advice, they give it to me.”
Jess nodded her head. “Yeah, women are like that. They see the floundering man and feel compelled to offer guidance. It’s a mothering thing.”
Hm, he supposed. Actually, it made sense. It was the same with his amputation. Women were either concerned that he wouldn’t live for the next hour with only one hand or they distanced themselves as much as possible. The women at La Jolla Center, nurses and doctors who had seen a lot of things, were not nearly as bad as the average woman from the street. They were used to seeing men injured and disfigured by war.
It was why he’d all but given up on dating in the actual world. Too many landmines, so to speak. It didn’t matter. He could not see himself dating soon, especially with a kid.
Ms. Swan, on the other hand, looked like the type of woman that dated a lot. Had she said she’d just come from a date in New Guinea? Who the hell did that?
In spite of himself, he wondered what kind of man would inspire her to travel around the world.
“Hope is old enough to be going to school part-time. But I haven’t registered her yet. I didn’t think she was ready.”
Ms. Swan, Jess, tilted her head as she watched the little girl play. “I’m not sure,” she said carefully. “Give me a few days to see how she does. To see how we do.”
Paul gave her a single nod. “I can do that.” He glanced at his watch. “I need to get some dinner going.”
Jess spared him a look. “Go ahead, I’ll watch her.”
Wavering, he glanced between the two females. He felt like he should give Jess some pointers, at least what little he’d learned in the short time they’d been together. “She loves animals. We adopted that dog just a couple days ago and they’re already hooked on each other. I know bringing a dog into the house at this time was not a smart idea, but when she reacted the way she did, I couldn’t say no.”
Jess was already walking across the yard. Paul watched as she joined the little duo, sitting on the grass. He was too far away to hear anything Jess said, but he could tell that Hope wasn’t responding. She barely even looked at Jess. Instead, she wrapped around Sophie. Paul watched for a few more minutes before he pushed up to go into the house.
Once inside, he took a few minutes to go mount his prosthetic. Then he headed to the kitchen to start dinner.
Jess was so tired that she could’ve curled up on the ground and gone to sleep. The child watched her for a moment, then turned away, her spindly arms wrapped around the fuzzy little dog. The dog watched Jess and would probably have come to Jess if the girl didn’t have a death grip on it. So, she sat and just talked, giving the girl her name and telling her about the island where she’d just left. Jess knew the girl was listening because occasionally she would pause and the girl would glance up at her from beneath the fringe of her dark eyelashes, as if making sure she wasn’t going anywhere.
She was such a stunning little girl. Her eyes big and blue in her pale face, and her dark, shoulder-length hair blowing in the gentle breeze.
Eventually, Paul called across the yard that dinner was ready. Jess knew she could probably eat a hippopotamus and she told the girl that, eliciting a tiny snort. Well, a snort was better than nothing.
It could’ve been awkward sitting down at a table for dinner with two people she didn’t know, but Jess was used to being the one to start conversations. As much as she traveled, and as many people as she met, she’d taught herself to be forward. Even if she didn’t understand the language, she was confident in herself enough to break the metaphorical ice.
Jess realized when she sat down that it would be a completely silent dinner if she didn’t say something. When Paul motioned for the girl to put the dog down on the ground, the girl’s expression had sparked with something. But she leaned down and put the dog gently on the ground. Then Hope took her place at the table.
“So,” Jess said, “what’s the dog’s name?”
“Sophie,” Paul answered her.
The conversation stopped. Jess scowled. This wasn’t going to work at all if she didn’t have some help. “So, did you get her from Erin?”
Paul glanced at her, his blue eyes vibrant in the evening light. “Yes, we did, though this is exactly the wrong time to get a new dog. The two of them seemed to fall in love with each other, though.”
The odd little dog-was it a Chihuahua? No, too hairy. Maybe a poodle mix? It sat patiently beneath Hope’s chair. Even as she watched, Hope’s hand moved down to the dog, a little piece of chicken between her fingers. She looked at Hope.
“If you feed the dog from the table,” Jess said, “you are teaching it bad manners. Please don’t do that.”
A truculent expression crossed Hope’s face and she pulled her hand back, looking to her father for support. Jess could see how much Paul wanted to support his daughter, but he nodded. “Jess is right, Hope. We need to train Sophie the smart way.”
Some intangible knot of tension eased in Jess’s belly, even though it might make it a little harder to connect to Hope. Paul had supported her in front of his daughter, and that was huge.
They continued the meal quietly. Jess was impressed with the marinated chicken breasts and the grilled vegetables. It was a pretty kick ass meal, considering she’d been eating airport and road food for the past few days. The tiredness was really beginning to drag at her, though. She had a feeling it wouldn’t matter what that bed felt like.
As soon as they finished eating, Jess stood and began gathering dirty dishes. She looked at Hope. “Grab your dirty dishes and bring them into the kitchen,” she told the girl.
Hope looked startled, as if she’d never been asked to clean up after herself before. Then, a mulish expression on her pretty face, she followed along behind Jess, setting her plate on the counter beside the sink. She turned to leave and Jess told her, “Go get your dad’s plate too.”
The little girl stomped out onto the deck, the funny little dog following along behind. Jess laughed softly to herself. Though she was quiet, the girl had an attitude which she could appreciate.
Paul came in next, carrying the platter of leftover food. He showed her where his storage products were and helped famil
iarize her with the rest of the kitchen.
“Once we eat dinner, I usually run Hope’s bath. If you want to, why don’t you go ahead and go to bed? Tomorrow is Sunday and we can get everything planned then.”
Jess gave him a salute. “I will absolutely take you up on that,” she said with a yawn. “Night guys.”
With a last smile at the girl, Jess turned and headed down the hallway. She took the time to wash up a little, slipped on a fresh T-shirt and panties, and crashed. Hard.
4
Paul absolutely adored his little girl. Though she’d been a little reserved with Jess, he hoped that the two of them would warm up. He didn’t want Hope to have any more tension in her life that didn’t need to be there. They had to get something worked out. As much is the hospital staff loved her, Hope didn’t belong in a hospital setting because he couldn’t find adequate childcare.
Jess seemed like a nice enough girl, but she definitely wouldn’t be appropriate long term. Paul winced to himself, hating to sound like the old guy set in his ways, critical of a younger generation. Maybe he was hypersensitive because Jess seemed to be the type to grab life by the horns. He, on the other hand, was transitioning into family life. The bachelor days had officially faded into the sunset.
Paul always considered himself a family man. Even when he was a kid, he knew he wanted a family at some point. Maybe that was why he’d gotten with Tara so easily. Yes, there had been red flags, but not enough to shut down the night they’d slept together. When she was on good behavior, Tara had seemed to be an amazing woman, kind and beautiful. Looking back, though, he had to wonder if even those good impressions had just been well acted. He had no way of knowing now. All he could do was move forward and hope that Hope hadn’t had to deal with her mother’s eccentricities as well.
As soon as he’d taken custody of Hope, he’d enlisted the aid of a counselor who specialized in childhood grief. His own counselor had given him the recommendation, and so far, Ms. Waters had done an excellent job with Hope. The first month he’d taken her three times a week, now they were down to once a week. Ms. Waters still couldn’t get Hope to talk very much, but she said she had a feeling it would come in time. There was something weighing on Hope’s heart, and eventually she would let them know what it was.
Paul hoped the child could open up to someone, even if it was to the new little dog.
He moved to the coffeemaker and snapped a K cup into the Keurig, watching the Dark French Roast dribble into the cup. Why did the first cup always take so long? It hissed out the last drop and he splashed in some caramel macchiato creamer, then carried it to the row of chairs at the end of the counter. Slurping to cool the coffee, he tried not to wince at the heat.
Jess, looking bedraggled and beautiful, walked in, her narrow feet barely making a sound on the hardwood floors. This morning she was dressed in a long, dark-blue t-shirt with some band name on the front, he thought. It wasn’t anyone he recognized. Her brownish blond hair was longer than he’d expected, brushing just past her breasts. Then he blinked, awareness sharpening his vision. Did she have shorts on? He couldn’t see anything beneath the hem of the shirt. He cleared his throat. “There are several different kinds of coffee in the box in the cupboard, as well as some teas. French Roast is in the carousel.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, voice husky. She braced her arms on the counter as she stared at the streaming coffee.
“There’s creamer in the fridge.”
She gave him a nod, but didn’t go for the creamer. As soon as the coffee stopped dripping, she cradled the mug between her hands and turned to face him, leaning her hip against the counter. “Is Hope an early riser?”
Paul shook his head. “Quite the opposite, I’m afraid. Hunger will force her out of bed by about seven-thirty or eight. She has to go to the bathroom as soon as she gets up.”
“Does she wear Pull-ups at night, or anything?”
“I don’t wear baby diapers,” the little girl snapped, looking incensed. Sophie stood shivering beside her, one leg drawn up.
Jess turned to face her, not giving a reaction that she was talking. “I didn’t think you did, because you’re smarter than that.”
Looking slightly mollified, Hope moved to the refrigerator. She dug inside for a moment, then pulled out a pale blue cotton candy Go-gurt. Moving to the kitchen silverware drawer, she retrieved a pair of child’s pink-handled scissors and cut the top off. Then she turned and left the kitchen.
“It will take a while to warm up to you,” Paul said eventually. “It was two weeks before she even said anything to me, and then it was only single syllables. Everything in her world has changed and I’m doing my best to make it stabilize.”
“I can appreciate that,” she murmured. “She’s so young. So, you’ve been taking her to work with you during the week. What do you normally do on the weekends?”
Paul straightened on the stool. “We’ve gone to the San Diego zoo twice. She absolutely loves it there.”
“Do you have anything planned for today?”
“Not that I know of,” he said thoughtfully.
The woman nodded once, finishing off her cup of coffee. Turning, she set the cup in the sink and headed for the fridge. Pulling the stainless steel door open, she leaned inside to look around.
Paul’s gaze followed her movements. He couldn’t help himself. She did, indeed, have shorts on. They were just super short. As she turned from the fridge, he jerked his eyes up to hers. It had been an incredibly long time since he’d felt any kind of interest for a woman.
“There is no food in here,” she said, propping her hands on her hips.
Paul frowned, feeling defensive. “There are Go-gurts, and stuff. And cheese.”
Jess made a face and him. “There are no vegetables or anything. What were you planning on eating today?”
Paul shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know, I would’ve ordered some takeout, probably.”
She looked at him askance, and he felt like the lowest of the low for not feeding his child.
“That was a great dinner last night. How...” She planted her hands on her hips.
“I have a meal delivery service. They drop off ingredients twice a week and I cook them.”
Ah, that made sense. There were some condiments in the fridge and a few snacks, but nothing substantial. “I think one of the first things we need to do is go get groceries,” she told him.
Paul thought about that for a moment, then nodded. “If that’s what you want to do, we can. I have to warn you, though, I’m not much of a cook.”
She gave him a smile. “I’m not cooking for you. I’m cooking for the girl.”
So, an hour later, still a little peeved in spite of himself at her words, Paul drove all three of them to the local Whole Foods in his truck. Hope was already being fractious because they’d left Sophie at home, but they continued on. When they arrived at the store, the girl hung back, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else.
“So, what kind of food you like to eat, Hope?” Jess asked her, guiding her into the store.
She gave that universal child’s response of a shrug. Jess pulled the cart from the line of carts. “Do you not want to tell me or do you not know?”
Again, the shrug.
They walked into the store. “Well, if you don’t know what you like, I guess I’ll just get the food I like and cook it for you.”
They moved into the vegetable section, and Jess started adding items to the cart. Paul watched her, wondering if she could actually cook all the vegetables she was picking out. So far, Hope had been pretty picky about everything. He’d offered to order her a bunch of different things, but she always came back to chicken. And sometimes peas. Last night she’d eaten the chicken only, then come downstairs for a yogurt about midnight. Though he knew it wasn’t good for her, Paul never scolded her for eating anything, no matter the time. If she was hungry, she needed to know that she could get something out of the fridge whenever she wanted t
o.
That was important to him. Something about the way she behaved made him think she hadn’t always had food, and that made him angry. For almost five years, he’d wanted to be a part of the girl’s life. Even if it had been only for visitation. He would have happily paid child support just to see her. Then maybe he would have had some reassurance that she had food in her stomach.
Jess plucked something from one of the displays and kneeled down in front of Hope. “Check these out. Miniature grapes.”
Hope was intrigued, Paul could tell, but she tried to maintain her distance. Jess didn’t let her, though, following in a crouch as she took a step back. “These are called champagne grapes. Just try one and I’ll leave you alone. They’re amazing!”
Jess popped a couple of the tiny red grapes into her own mouth, then held a couple out to Hope. Paul was genuinely surprised when Hope reached out and took them from her hand.
Watching her eyes widen in surprised pleasure when she bit into them, Paul grinned. His gaze connected with Jess’s for a split second, just long enough for her to wink at him. Then she set an entire bag of the champagne grapes into the cart. Before she moved away, she held her hand out to him. Three tiny grapes rested on her palm.
Paul was a little taken aback. He hadn’t expected her to include him in their little interaction. With his left hand, he picked up the grapes and tossed them into his mouth. He popped them with his tongue and grinned at the almost pure taste of sugar. When he looked down, both females were watching him expectantly, so he nodded and grinned. “Really good,” he said.
Smiling, Jess turned back to the shelves. Hope was still watching him, as if making sure he stuck by what he’d said. Deliberately he reached into the bag and pulled out a tiny handful, sharing some with his daughter. She eyed him for a moment as if debating whether or not he would poison her, then took them, and it made him inordinately happy.
They worked their way through every section of the grocery store. When there was food available to try, Jess offered it to Hope. More than a few times she took the food, then they had to decipher the faces she made.
