by Katie Cross
“What would helping look like?”
He paused, as if startled I'd even entertain the idea, and said, “Ideally, depending on your schedule or interest, you pick her up from school Monday through Friday. Take her home and do girl stuff or homework, I don't know. Then have her in bed at 8:00. I'm changing things at work so I'm not the one closing and I can be home by 8:30, but that's just too late for her. I'll pay $20 an hour.”
Six-years-old likely meant first grade, and that schedule meant at least six-and-a-half-hours a day with her. My mind spun as I thought out the proposal. It would fit with my job and that kind of pay would probably cover a loft like this, although I didn't know for certain. I had no car, but maybe he’d be fine with us walking everywhere.
Above all the other questions was an undeniable urge to say yes. I forced myself to stop and figure out why. Was it an urge to be part of his world? To keep him close? To feel safe? For a few moments, I considered all of those, but realized none fit.
No, it was about that lonely little girl drowning in her father's world.
I still didn't know so much about Ava—about them—but I knew that I would agree. Not only would the work be fun and take my mind off the current affairs of my family, but it would give me a reason to stay here for a few more months. Besides, there was still a glimmer of hope for Talmage, and until that was completely stomped out by his own decisions, I wanted to stay.
So I swallowed and said, “Okay.”
Several moments passed before Benjamin seemed to comprehend my agreement. He blinked twice, opened his mouth, and finally managed to say, “Okay?”
“Yes. Ava is a lovely girl and I'd love to spend more time with her. And help you however I can. Single parenting must be difficult on many levels.”
Relief flooded him so intensely it altered his appearance. The coiled panther looked more like a sleepy bear now. He struggled to find more words, and I left him to it. Finally, he said, “Thank you. I can't thank you enough.”
I waved that off. “It's my pleasure. Ava is wonderful.”
“Can you start today?”
The plea didn't entirely surprise me. This man was nothing if not desperate, and I realized that he'd spent the whole morning with me, but likely had clients at the MMA Center right now. Clients that paid a lot of money to train with him. Besides, he may have just found me a place to stay, so there wasn't as much to occupy my time today anyway. I wasn't the type to sit around and mope. Being with Ava would be a good distraction until my parents arrived.
“Yes, that'll be fine.”
For a second, he regarded my face. “Are you sure?” Then I realized that the bruises on my face may be a bit off putting for Ava.
“Oh,” I said, “yes, I’ll be fine. I’ll . . . explain this to her.”
“Right. Okay. I’ll call her teacher and tell her to let Ava know.” He dug into his pockets and pulled out a set of car keys. “This is for my SUV. You can use it to pick her up from the bus stop. When you start back to work, I'll drop the keys off at the Diner in the morning.”
“What about you?” I asked, accepting the keys, still warm from his pocket.
He shrugged. “I'll just jog home.”
I had no idea where he lived, but it could be several miles away. Then again, he probably didn't mind that sort of thing, and winter was in the taillights now. There had been something relaxing about my bike ride back to Talmage's at the end of the day. The thought of driving that massive SUV around gave me a little thrill and jolt of terror. How the crap was I going to climb up there with this rib?
“Okay.”
Seconds later, he was on his phone, which buzzed in his hands. He dismissed incoming text messages to type something out, then my phone jangled in my back pocket. I pulled it out to see an address from him.
“My home.” A look of something like vulnerability crossed his face then. “With the passcode to get inside. I trust you.”
Those three words were as loaded as any I'd ever heard. Had something happened in the past with his home so he didn't trust people? At this point, all my shock points were taken up, and the questions cluttered my mind until I couldn't have asked even if I wanted.
“Great.”
“Her school information is there as well. You'll have to pick her up from the bus stop that I texted you, but after that, you can figure out what's easiest, whether you pick her up or she can even get off the bus in town, if you want. Whatever you need. We just need to tell her and the bus driver.”
His shoulders sagged slightly as he met my gaze again. “Thank you, Serafina. I'm sorry, but I need to dash to work. Do you have any questions?”
A million, but I kept them pooled in my head for now. No doubt, most of them would work out over time.
“I'm good. I'll see you tonight?”
For the first time, a full smile found his face, no doubt driven by a sense of relief. “Tonight,” he echoed, and my stomach turned to jelly. Like it or not, Benjamin and I were tied together now, at least for the foreseeable future.
How bad could that be?
That afternoon, Ava stared at me through wide eyes, a backpack slung over her shoulders that seemed to take up her whole torso. Female superheroes decorated it with bright colors and fierce expressions. She dropped it off her shoulders and dragged it by a single strap as she approached. It splashed through a mud puddle, but she didn't seem to mind.
“You are picking me up now?” she asked.
The rain had retreated, leaving a thick skein of moisture over the reservoir and a freshly-washed smell on the world. Overhead, a bright cerulean sky unfurled. I couldn't help but notice a gaggle of other girls peeling off another direction, talking together as if Ava didn't exist. Ava didn't seem to pay them any attention either.
Did she have friends?
“Yep!” I forced brightness in my tone, although I couldn't tell whether she was excited by the prospect or annoyed.
“What happened to your face?”
“Had a little accident,” I said blithely. “Hardly hurts at all, except my rib is sore, so we’ll need to be careful. Ready to go home?”
She trudged forward a few more steps, then chirped, “Great!” and skipped over. Her backpack banged on the ground behind her. Without another word, she yanked open the SUV back door, which she could barely reach, and clambered inside.
A feeling of mental paralysis overcame me as I carefully eased into the driver’s seat. The SUV seemed to swallow me whole and felt like driving a tank. It was tricked out with futuristic lighting and all the LED screens. Trying to figure out such a monster had almost made me late to the bus stop.
“What's your name again?” Ava asked from the back seat as she peered out the window.
Her blind trust took me by surprise. She didn't even know my name, but she climbed into a car with me? Not just any car, her Dad's car, but still . . . we'd have to have some talks about strangers.
“Serafina.”
“Oh, now I remember. My Dad told me that. So did my teacher.”
“Your teacher?”
She nodded. “Mm-hmm. Daddy called my teacher and she told me to watch for his car at the bus stop because someone really fun named Serafina would pick me up at the bus stop today. I'm glad it was you. I remember you. Do you have more brownies?”
Point for Benjamin—he'd thought this through to an impressive degree. For all his weird self-deprecatory comments earlier, he seemed to be doing a great job.
“Maybe I do have more brownies,” I drawled. “First, let's get you home. Then we can go from there.”
Her bright expression faded. “Do we have to go to the gym tonight?”
“Nope.”
“Really?”
The happiness in her cry cut at me. “Really. You and me, tonight, babe.”
“Awesome!”
The happy peal of her voice made me smile. Except . . . what was I supposed to do with her once we got to their house? Providing dinner was one thing. Six-and-a-half-hours of
entertainment was something else entirely.
Filling out an application to rent the Frolicking Moose had taken up most of my morning, not to mention updating Dad on the current condition of my ribs, and Mom on her countless questions about Benjamin coming over. Although I hadn't done much today, I already felt tired.
With a sigh, I shook that off. Now wasn't the time. Now it was Ava-time. Step one: I'd see Benjamin's house and what I had to work with. I had a feeling that the father-run home would dictate what happened next.
8
Benjamin
With a sense of great trepidation, I slowed my run and turned onto my long, dirt-road driveway.
The house I'd bought when we moved to Pineville was just over a mile from the MMA Center, but the roads turned to dirt not far off of Main Street, and a long driveway separated the house from a road that wound back into the mountains. No one wandered this way, which almost negated my need for a security system, but I kept it anyway for Ava's sake. Some of the weirdos I'd encountered during my years in the MMA limelight had no sense of boundaries. I might be out of the spotlight, but reminders that I hadn't been forgotten popped up here and there.
The run felt good at the end of a long day, allowing me to loosen up. A sense of relief came with knowing Serafina would have Ava all afternoon. She'd texted me to confirm a safe pick up, complete with a picture of Ava smiling in the backseat. I couldn't stop turning my thoughts in that direction.
Had I sprung this on Serafina too soon?
Was this the right move?
Was this better, or worse, than having Ava at the MMA Center?
Serafina would provide Ava some much-needed girl time, not to mention an earlier bedtime, as well as more of a home life. But she'd be away from me. Not that hiding under the desk really equated to quality daughter-father time. Still, I wasn't sure that would make things better.
Parenting caused the worst kind of life-questioning.
Shoving that aside, I wiped the sweat off my brow and headed through the side door of my three-car garage. The SUV was parked on the far right, and still-unpacked boxes lingered in the garage months after the moving company had put them there. I ignored them and hurried inside, eager to see how the day had gone.
Once I stepped inside the back door, I stopped to listen. Not a sound met my ears. The back door opened right into our dining area, which led to the kitchen. Beyond a few walls were the living room, bathroom, pantry, and my master bedroom on the far side. Upstairs, Ava reigned.
A lone light in the kitchen illuminated the island in the middle, which was full of food pulled from the cupboards. Beyond that came the soft glow of a lamp in the living room.
Weird.
“Serafina?” I said quietly as I advanced into the house. No sign of her in the kitchen, but the dishes from breakfast and too many dinners had been cleaned up. A rosy light came from upstairs, where Ava's door was cracked open only an inch or two. Her night light. She must be in bed already.
“Sera?”
A shuffle of noise caught my attention from the couch. Serafina looked up, her eyes unmistakably bleary, from where she sat and stared at a photo. The bright frame glowed an obnoxious neon pink whenever the lights around the edge were turned on. Inside that frame was a picture of Sadie and Ava the week before Sadie died.
My stomach dropped.
“Hey,” I said.
Serafina didn't even smile at me, which made me feel cold all over. Exhaustion was bright on her face as she set the frame down. Yep. I'd sprung this on her too fast and too soon after a traumatic incident. She motioned to the couch next to her, lips rolled together. I sat on the edge of the cushion, careful to keep some distance between us.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Ava was fine. She's been asleep since 7:30.”
7:30? I rarely even had dinner for her by then. “Was she tired?”
“Very.”
Not much relief followed, considering Sera's voice was monotone, drawn, and there was something like uncertainty in her gaze right now.
“Thank you,” I said and cleared my throat.
Sera winced as she leaned back against the couch, one knee tucked underneath her. Even though she was clearly worn out, she didn't haul out of here the way I would have. Instead, she hugged a pillow, folded her arms around it, and said, “Tell me what happened to Sadie.”
All words left me.
I stared at her, speechless. First, how did she know Sadie’s name? Ava must have told her. Second, this was the last question I expected. Maybe where are the graham crackers? Or when will the laundry be done so Ava has clean clothes? But not this.
She didn't look away. If anything, her gaze became more intense. I'd expected a lecture, maybe, like Ava's teacher. A review of how to parent from people that never had to bear the responsibility of a little life on their shoulders alone. So a question about Sadie?
I'd rather the lecture.
Serafina straightened. “I'd love some sort of explanation. You didn't tell me that your six-year-old lost her mother a year ago. That she hates school, doesn't want to do anything but watch that stupid tablet, and hasn't once done a chore in her life. She's also so far behind in school that I'm surprised they haven't dropped her a grade. There's no fresh food in the house, the laundry hasn't been done in so long I couldn't find clean pajamas for her, and I'm pretty sure you have a mice problem. Three of them ran in front of me today.” She shuddered, then muttered with a vengeance. “Imma kill the little buggers tomorrow.”
Frustration drove her tone, and I realized too late that it must have been a really hard day. Ava must have pushed her buttons and tried to watch the tablet incessantly or whined about not liking the food. All the food on the counter . . . had that been Serafina scavenging for dinner? I hadn't even left money for food. Had the laundry situation gotten so bad? Yeah, it definitely had.
I reached back, my hand on my neck, but before I could explain, she held up a hand. Then she drew in a deep breath, let it out, and met my gaze.
“I'm sorry.”
I blinked, startled for the tenth time tonight. Wait, what?
“I'm sorry,” she said again, and met my gaze. “That was . . . pretty harsh. I believe you're doing the best you can and it must be really hard as a single parent, but . . . I just felt a bit duped. Like there was a bigger mess dropped on my lap than I expected, but no boundaries set and no help given. Ava is amazing, but she needs more help than I thought. Did you know she barely knows her letters?”
“Her teacher and I have spoken about it.”
She softened, then grimaced as she adjusted her position. Her arm braced against her ribs almost like an instinct now. “I just . . . I'm tired. It's been a long, somewhat unexpected day and I'm sorry I took it out on you. I'm worried about Ava and my ability to help her, that's all.”
True remorse filled her tone. I couldn't even doubt her sincerity, even though I normally did for almost-strangers. Were we strangers? How could we not be friends at this point? I cleared my throat again, only feeling marginally better for her apology. Her observations were warranted and spot on.
“This is my fault,” I said. “All of it. The food, the laundry. The house. I’m a mess, Sera. I work so much that I crash on the weekend instead of cleaning the house. Both of us are . . . sort of walking disasters and it’s not Ava’s fault. She's a product of her ridiculous parents. If you wanted to leave, I wouldn't blame you. You're under no obligation and I'll write you a check for today's work right now.”
She studied me for a moment, and I could tell she'd already considered that. Maybe she had been considering it for the last hour and a half that Ava had been sleeping. Panic filled me at the thought of her going, and it wasn't entirely tied to Ava.
“Tell me about Sadie?” she asked and it sounded like acquiescence. Like a willingness to move forward or get more information.
Whatever it was, it wasn't no.
I ran a hand through my hair, a bitter taste in my mouth. The
last thing I wanted to discuss was Sadie, but it had to happen. Serafina deserved it. But the thought of Sadie's ugly shadow reaching Sera made me internally recoil.
How did she always manage to haunt me?
“Sadie was a fan of mine,” I said, punching a fist into my other hand with a soft, quiet rhythm. My teeth clacked together while I tried to think about how to lay this story out. “She worked at the gym where I did most of my training and followed my career as it moved up and up and up. We would talk whenever I saw her and, eventually, I asked her out.”
My chest ached just thinking about the early days with Sadie. The good days, when we were just two people that liked to be around each other. Before the shadow of reality extended over even the best of memories.
“It was great at first. Young love. My career grew and she was at my side. Then it got . . . rocky. We fought. She grew jealous of other fans. Accused me of cheating on her all the time. Sadie was something of a party girl and loved the spotlight. It's like she craved attention. She was obsessed with the magazine features, social media, you name it. She ran most of my PR for a while, and that was a mistake I didn't realize I'd made at first.”
Serafina hadn't moved from her position on the couch, but I didn't sense any tension from her, so I kept going.
“We were constantly breaking up, then coming back together. She couldn't control her jealousy and I stayed with her because she kept most of the other people off my back. Sadie, for all her faults, was key to my career growing the way it did. As a PR manager, she did her job very well. People had a way of just . . . doing what she wanted. Myself included. Then she let me know she was pregnant, and she broke up with me. For the last time.”
Sera's eyes widened. Her lips rounded in silent shock. A bitter laugh bubbled out of my chest.
“Yeah. She left. At first, I thought it was one of her manipulations, but I soon realized it was real. I kept up with her as best I could. Paid child support. Saw Ava every chance I had, but Sadie never made it easy. She'd go missing for weeks and visit her family without telling me. She'd send me pictures and then just stop. Tell me lies about what the pediatrician was saying.” I ran a hand through my hair. “It was a disaster. Then last summer Sadie was at a party with some friends. She must have been horribly drunk, somehow got ahold of her car keys, and tried to drive home. She crashed, then died the next day.”
