Joey’s smile is full of mischief, and I can already tell why he and Abel are friends. I can envision them being each other’s wingmen and getting all the ladies to fall for them and their charming senses of humor. I bet they could get into a lot of trouble with each other if Abel didn’t have that whole parenting thing holding him back.
“Yeah, I know I’ve seen you around, but it’s nice to finally put a name to a face. And I never forget a beautiful face,” he tacks on, making Abel groan and my mother laugh.
I quirk an eyebrow. “Well Abel isn’t really a hard name to forget, and he is quite pretty.”
My mother rolls her eyes while the rest of us laugh like a bunch of drunk college co-eds—a little too loud over something that’s not all that funny. But at least the ice is broken and the tension melts away.
“You’re an idiot,” Abel says playfully and gives Joey a man-pat on the back, strong enough to have knocked me over if I were him. “Let’s get this truck loaded so we can get home before it gets colder. Where do you want us to start?”
We trek up the stairs and I point out the rooms we’re clearing out. It’ll take a couple of trips because of the furniture, but Abel’s right. Apparently, there’s more snow on the way, and there’s nothing worse than tracking that crap into your house where it melts into dirty puddles everywhere.
“Looks like I get to skip my workout tomorrow morning,” Joey says with a giant smile as he lifts up his side of the dresser.
“Because you lifted some lady furniture, ya pansy?” Abel shoots back.
They continue tossing barbs back and forth at each other, making me smile. The idea of living with people who laugh and smile and joke excites me. It’s not that my mom doesn’t do those things, it’s that some of the criticisms are so hurtful, it’s hard to see past them.
And yet, I’m a little sad about leaving here. This was my childhood home. It’s the place I had my first and last memories of my dad. It’s the safe place I’ve always been able to run to, and it has a wonderful family history.
My parents scrimped and saved to buy this brownstone before I was born so they could start a family. They probably couldn’t have afforded it, but somehow, they impressed the previous owner who was ready to unload it and move on with her life. She had been dumped by her husband for a younger model. As scandalous as it would be now, when I think about how it was over forty years ago, I can’t imagine how the neighbors must have talked back then. The woman was so bitter from the entire thing she sold the house for well below what it was worth, simply to screw her ex out of his portion of the profits. Or at least that’s how the story went.
Since my parents bought it, not much has changed with the exception of the loss of my dad. Ainsley even attends the same elementary school I did. So, for whatever reason, moving this time feels final. It puts a damper on my mood.
Not enough to change my mind, though. Not even close. Instead, I’m tossing some last-minute items in a bag, taking everything I can carry to the bottom of the stairs. The faster I can leave, the less I’ll think about it. Like ripping off a Band-Aid. A forty-year-old Band-Aid.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
I look over and see my mother, a look of anguish on her face. She caught me in a weak moment—staring at my now empty bedroom as I say my goodbye.
“I’m sure, Mom.”
Her face changes to one of resignation, and oddly, she smiles. “Then I won’t say another word about it.”
I grab her in my arms and hug her tight. “I know, Mom. And no matter what, I appreciate you taking us in and giving us a place to start over.”
“I love you, Ellie Belly.” She pulls me in even tighter, and I breathe in the scent that always reminds me of home—her floral body wash and a hint of cinnamon. Probably from doctoring her coffee. “You are welcome to come back any time.”
“I love you. And not on your life.”
“Oh, thank God you said that.” She pulls away and puts her hands on my cheeks. “I would lay down my life for the two of you, but if I don’t get a life of my own soon, I may lose it.”
I giggle at her humor and bite my tongue from saying anything about her personal brand of crazy. Instead, I kiss her cheek and pull away, calling for my daughter.
“Okay, Ainsley! It’s time to go.”
She squeals and comes racing up the stairs, coat half on, pulling up a boot as she stumbles.
“I’m ready! I’m ready!”
Me too, kiddo. Me too.
Chapter Nine
ABEL
Living with two virtual strangers has turned out to be pretty easy so far. The girls get along great and spend hours in the basement having dance parties and playing my old-school Wii. I thought about getting rid of it at one point, but then Mabel found it, and it’s come in handy to get her energy out in the winter. The old WipeOut game is her favorite, and even I have to admit it’s funny watching the Mii’s go flying off the big balls. That was always the most entertaining part of the watching TV show.
It’s also sparked some friendly competition between the girls. As long as it stays friendly and they take regular baths from all the sweat, it’s fine by me. But really… the baths. I always assumed girls naturally smelled like flowers and candy. Not so much. An extreme game of Wii tennis leaves them smelling worse than the men’s locker room at the gym.
Elliott and I also get along really well. Our humor is the same, as is our taste in music. It’s made daily tasks like making lunch and doing laundry much more bearable than it could have been with another roommate. All we do is crank up some tunes and crack jokes while we go about our business.
Of course, the two of them have only lived here for thirty-six hours so far. It could all go downhill at some point.
With that in mind, and because I’m a nice guy in general, I’ve tried to stay extra quiet this morning. I’m never loud—my goal isn’t to wake Mabel up until I have to. And even then, if she can stay asleep until it’s time to get ready for school, our day runs much smoother.
But while my child can usually sleep through a nuclear event, I don’t know how heavy a sleeper Elliott is. So, I’ve been hyper aware of how loud the shower water is, the creak in the stairs, the pop when I flip the switch to turn on the lights in the kitchen. I know I’ll feel more comfortable the longer I do this, but today, I’ve grimaced at least half a dozen times, especially when ole Betsy gave me problems. It’s been rough staying quiet, and Marv won’t be here for another ten minutes.
So far, so good, though. I haven’t heard a peep from anyone.
Quickly, I throw yesterday’s leftovers in my lunch kit and begin the process of gathering all my things.
My gym bag.
Mabel’s school bag.
Mabel’s clothing bag.
Lunches for everyone.
I think I have it all. The only thing left to get is the child in question.
Turning for the stairs, I stop quickly when I almost run over Elliott who is sporting the wildest bedhead I’ve ever seen, and yet, I still haven’t heard a peep. How did she miss that squeaky stair?
That’s actually the least of my concerns right now. More importantly, a quick assessment has me wondering if her eyes are open and how much comprehension she has. Is Elliott sleepwalking? She didn’t tell me she wandered around unconscious in the middle of the night. This is going to present some problems if she wanders out the door. I’m not prepared to chase her down the street in this weather. Chicago PD doesn’t play around, and it would look awfully suspicious for me to be chasing her around in the middle of the night. I have no desire to get a face full of snow when I’m tackled and handcuffed.
“Why are you looking at me that way?” Elliott’s groggy voice cuts through the silence of the house.
Huh. I guess she’s awake.
“Because I thought you were sleepwalking.”
“Why would you think that?”
Gesturing to the small mirror hanging behind her, she turns to look. I watc
h in the reflection to see her reaction to her current state. All she does is blink a couple times. At least I think she’s blinking. It’s hard to tell since her eyes are barely open to begin with. That’s the only reaction she has. Even her mouth doesn’t move, only stays slightly ajar.
“Huh,” she finally responds. “I see why you came to that conclusion.” She licks her lips and scratches the back of her head, making the rat’s nest called her hair bob up and down. “What time is it anyway?”
Patting down my pockets, I’m glad for an excuse to check for my phone anyway. “Uhh…” I click on the screen. “About 4:40.”
Elliott’s eyes have suddenly gone from slits to wide open. Or at least wider. Or not as narrow. Regardless, she’s definitely alert now. “Why are you up so early?”
Sliding my phone back in my pocket, I peek out the window to see if my Uber is here yet. “My first client shows up at five.”
“That’s horrible,” she declares and then immediately yawns, as if the effort of this conversation is exhausting her.
“Why are you up, anyway? You don’t have to be there until ten.”
She plops down on the couch, curling her legs up under her until she’s in a ball, resting her head on the arm rest. “I thought you were a burglar.”
“Seriously?”
She shrugs. “New house. New noises. I’ll get used to it.”
Lights shine through the blinds and fade away as my ride pulls up, right on time.
“Well, it’ll be quieter now. My carriage awaits, so I’m going to grab Mabel and leave.” I only get one foot on the stairs before Elliott stops me.
“Wait, you’re taking Mabel?”
I look at her quizzically. “Can’t leave her here. I can’t trust she’d actually go to school. She’ll use any excuse to get out of it.”
One more foot up the stairs, and I’m thwarted by Elliott’s words again.
“That was before. I’m here now.”
I put myself in reverse and take back the two steps of progress I’ve made. Seems like a metaphor for my life, but I don’t want to focus on that part now. I’ve got a cab to catch.
“I can’t ask you to do that, Elliott.”
“Why not? The girls go to the same school.”
She’s right, but this isn’t something we’ve discussed before. It feels unnecessary to rely on her for help when I’ve been single parenting just fine. It’s not always easy, but taking care of my child isn’t a sacrifice. “Because it feels like an imposition, and I don’t want to put you out.”
“Abel, I have to get Ainsley up at seven anyway. And make her breakfast. And make her lunch. What’s it gonna hurt?”
I laugh through my nose. “Double the kids means triple the workload for you, remember?”
If she wasn’t back to having slits for eyes, I’d swear she rolled them at me.
“Oh yeah. Because it’s hard to scramble an extra egg and throw a second juice box in a bag.” She makes a valid point, but I’m still not sure if this is crossing a line. We’ve discussed how we’d treat the kids, but we’ve never talked about a situation like this. “Come on, Abel,” she pushes. “Let Mabel sleep. You know she’ll feel better if she gets an extra two hours.”
I look up the stairs as I consider her proposal. As much as I want to argue, Elliott is right. It would be so much better for Mabel if she didn’t have to be disturbed in the quasi-middle of the night. Not to mention I could add an extra client every day if I didn’t have to stop and get Mabel to school every morning. I could use the extra money.
“Fine. But if you’re going to take her to school, let me pick both girls up this afternoon.”
“You don’t have to do that—" Elliott insists, but I put up my hand to stop her.
“It’s only fair. Let’s try it this week. You do morning drop-offs. I do afternoon pickups. I can either keep Ainsley until you get home and feed her dinner, or I can drop her at the gym on my way home.”
“And you’ll have to let me know how Ms. Alexander takes the new arrangements.”
I see her wits are still about her, despite the massive yawn that just came out of her again. I smirk. “Oh yes. I’ll be sure to let you know how that goes.”
“And if any PTA moms hit on you.”
I groan. “You know about that?”
“Up until two weeks ago, I only knew you as ‘Hot Single Dad’,” she says with a snicker. “Imagine my surprise when I realized who they were referring to.”
“You do realize we are about to be the latest gossip of the volunteer copy room, right?”
It’s her turn to groan. “Great. Now I have to come up with a meet-cute to keep them entertained. If you come up with a stellar story about how we met, let me know.”
Snickering, I grab my bags off the floor before realizing I only need one of them today and dropping the others. “Go big or go home, huh?”
“You vastly underestimate how much I like it at home.”
“As long as you make me sound awesome, I’ll let you decide how and where it was love at first sight.” A small beep of a horn reminds me Marv is already here. “I gotta run. Mabel’s clothes are in this bag and this is her school bag. Don’t let her trick you into believing she has food allergies because she doesn’t. And if you need anything, you know how to reach me.”
“I refuse to interrupt Gina pre-three cups of coffee. I’ve been warned multiple times to leave her be, even in an emergency. We’ll be fine.”
“I trust you.” And I do. I don’t know why, but with the exception of the whole imposition issue, I have zero concerns about Elliott being in charge of Mabel. Maybe it’s dad-intuition. Maybe it’s because Dinah recommended her. Maybe it’s that criminal background check she had to do for employment. Regardless, if these living arrangements last longer than our trial period, Elliott and I really might be able to help each other out.
Jogging out the door and down the steps, I hear Elliott lock the door behind me. Within seconds, I’m in the backseat of my favorite Ford Escort. Even better, I’m not trying to cram everything on the small seat next to me without dropping a child in the process.
Very quickly, I’m situated, and yet the car isn’t moving. “Uh… Marv? You okay?”
“I’m waiting for you to realize you forgot your kid. Not sure how I remember and you don’t, but I’m not here to judge. I just drive.”
“I appreciate you looking out for me, but I didn’t forget her. I’ve got a new roommate who is going to take her to school.”
He harrumphs and hands me my lukewarm cup of coffee before putting the car into drive and easing away from the curb. “You gonna trust some hooligan with your daughter? You can’t be too careful these days.”
A dozen sentences. That’s all we’ve ever spoken to each other, yet Marv is still so protective of my daughter. I know I’m trying to save money, but there is no way I’m going to stop using him every morning even if I can jog to work again. He’s never said it, but I get the feeling Marv needs the money as much as I do. Plus, I get a cup of coffee out of it. It’s not as good as my Betsy’s, but the company is better.
“Elliott is actually a single mom, so she knows what she’s doing. And her daughter goes to the same school as Mabel. Same grade and everything.”
He harrumphs again. “Living with a woman? In my day, that was considered bad form. She’d get herself a reputation.”
“Then it’s a good thing we live in a new millennium, right?” I pat his shoulder as he pulls up in front of the gym. Handing him back the mug, I add, “Let the wife know this morning’s coffee hit the spot as always. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Wait… you still want me to pick you up?” Marv looks genuinely curious as to why.
“Of course!” I say with a smile as I swing the door open. “How else am I gonna get my first cup of joe in the morning?”
I flash him a grin and race from one door to the next, chasing the heat. The wind is blowing extra hard this morning and the chill cuts right through
my clothes and into my bones.
“Good morning, Gina.”
She grunts her response, staring at the monitor in front of her. I’m not sure if she’s waiting for the computer to boot up, or merely pretending so she doesn’t have to talk to anyone. Again, I’m left to wonder why the hell she doesn’t change her shift.
I smile and wave at the few co-workers who are in the building as I pass, most of them giving me quizzical looks. I never realized how weird it would look for me to come to work without lugging my child-sized burrito with me. Even Morgan seems shocked when I get to the desk and only have one bag to put down.
“Uh… did you forget something this morning?” She swivels back and forth on the chair.
“Elliott is going to take her to school.”
“Elliott? Who’s Elliott?”
Furrowing my brow, I glance at her briefly while clocking in. “You don’t know Elliott? She works in childcare. She’s new.”
Morgan’s eyes light up like the lightbulb went off in her brain. “Oh yeah, I know her. She’s cute. But wait. Why is she watching Mabel? I didn’t know you guys were friends.”
“She moved in this weekend, so it’s just easier for her to take the girls to school in the morning and me to pick them up in the afternoon. We’ll see how well it works. It might not. But today I’m enjoying not having to worry about my eight-year-old sleeping under the desk when my first client gets here.”
Morgan stops swiveling and holds her hand up. “Back up. You and Elliott live together? Didn’t you just meet a couple weeks ago at the staff meeting?”
And here we go. I’m sure this isn’t the first time I’ll be having this conversation. Thank God Joey was there to help with moving so I don’t have to try and explain it to him in front of people. The jokes were bad enough over the phone.
“I needed to offset my mortgage. She needed a place to live. Win-win.” I suspect that answer isn’t going to cut it, but it’s the easiest one I’ve got.
“Sounds like it’s more than just a win if you already have her taking care of your kid.”
Cutie and the Beast: A Roommates to Lovers Single Dad Romance (Cipher Office Book 3) Page 7
