Together With You

by Victoria Bylin

  “Me too.”

  “At least she hasn’t run off lately.”

  “She’s doing great. But there’s one more thing I want to talk to you about.”

  “Just one?”

  “Actually more.” She disarmed him with a twinkle in her eyes. “To tell the truth, I have a whole list of things for you.”

  “Have at it,” he said, meaning it. With Carly he no longer expected criticism.

  “First, Penny’s room.”

  “What’s wrong with it?”

  “Everything.” Her nose wrinkled, a sign she was about to say something he didn’t want to hear. “I know you tried to make it nice for her, but it’s too stimulating.”

  “I can see that now.” Six months ago, he’d hired a decorator to make it a little girl’s paradise. When the woman finished, it had reminded Ryan of a box of new crayons—bright, busy, and full of choices. An abundance of shelves held dolls, games, art supplies, picture books, and educational toys. “What do you suggest?”

  “Simplicity. Order. I’d like to redo it—new paint, new bedding, and new curtains. The furniture’s fine, but everything else needs to be evaluated from Penny’s perspective.”

  “Go for it.”

  Victory won, she gave a little fist pump. “This’ll be fun.”

  “I’ll help,” Ryan offered. “Moving furniture, painting, whatever you need.”

  “Thanks, but I thought I’d make it a day project and recruit the boys. It’ll keep them busy, and it’s a chance to be big and strong while I bark orders at them. It’s preparation for marriage.”

  Ryan laughed. “Good plan.”

  With her eyes twinkling, she laced her hands in her lap. “It also brings up the other thing I want to tell you. It’s about Kyle.”

  Kyle was a good kid, the one who made normal mistakes. Ryan relaxed a bit. “What’s up?”

  “I think he has a girlfriend.”

  So much for relaxing. A first girlfriend was something to enjoy, a first date, a first kiss. But teenagers got carried away and made mistakes. Ryan raked his hand through his hair and groaned.

  Carly laughed. “I hope you’ve talked with him about girls.”

  Her earnest eyes drilled into his, and he wondered just how far apart they were when it came to love and relationships. He knew she was a Christian, but what exactly did that mean? Hands off until marriage? No one he knew lived that way, but he had to admit, there was a time for self-control. Kyle was way too young for that step to adulthood, especially if it led to a teen pregnancy.

  Ryan needed to have a serious conversation with his son, but what did he say? Don’t do what I did? He couldn’t, not when he and Heather had slept together before marriage and Kyle was the result. Did he hand the boy a box of condoms the way his own father had done? Ryan came from a world where adults chose their own moralities. Kyle was only fifteen, but his body was maturing even faster than his brain. He’d be a man soon, and Eric was right behind him, Eric who lived like a vampire and stole candy bars by accident.

  “Ryan?”

  “Sorry.” He dragged his hand through his hair. “The whole subject gives me a headache.”

  “I know you’ll handle things with Kyle,” she said with far more confidence than he felt. “His girlfriend’s name is Taylor Robertson. You haven’t met her yet, but I did at the last practice. Her twin brother is on Kyle’s team. Her mom’s nice and so is her dad, though I suspect he has a shotgun in his trunk to scare away boys.”

  “Good.”

  Carly laughed. “My dad had one of those.”

  “Did it work?” He really wanted to know. “How many boys did he scare away from you?”

  “A few.” She blushed a little, then scooted to the edge of the couch. Looking down at the carpet, she wiggled her feet into a pair of flip-flops with daisies on top. “I better go.”

  Stay. Tell me about those boyfriends. Kyle wasn’t the only male who had to fight his impulses. So did Ryan, and right now he wanted to enjoy the heady mix of peace and longing only Carly could inspire. Maybe it was her Kentucky roots that made her so easy to be with, or the fact that she was eight years younger and less scarred by life. Ryan was far wiser in the ways of the world, but he admired Carly’s country wisdom. With her help, maybe he could cross off the toughest item on the SOS list.

  “I need a favor,” he said, touching her elbow to keep her on the couch.

  Her toes stopped at the edge of her flip-flops. “What is it?”

  “I have a list of things I want to do as a family, things that I hope will bring the four of us together.” He felt silly confessing, but this was Carly, who didn’t judge him for his failures. “I call it the SOS list. That stands for Sink or Swim.”

  “Or Save Our Souls,” she said, sounding wistful. “What’s on it?”

  “Things like go to Kyle’s games and do something with Eric.” He elaborated on the museum trip, including how they sat apart. “I’m pretty sure it was a bust.”

  “Oh, but you’re wrong! That trip was a huge success!”

  “I don’t see it.”

  “That’s because you’re thinking like an adult, not a thirteen-year-old boy.” She laced her hands over her knees. “Kids at that age need their parents, but they don’t want them to stand too close. You were there for Eric. That’s what matters.”

  He puffed up a little. “I guess so.”

  “What else is on the list?”

  He named a few more things, like going for ice cream and taking Penny to the park down the street. Mentally he added Meet Kyle’s girlfriend and her parents, a normal step all parents took. “I can handle most of it. In fact, it’s been fun.”

  “Like at Kyle’s game.”

  “Exactly.” He hadn’t missed a game since that day. “By the way, I ordered four tickets for a Dodgers-Reds game in July. Want to go?”

  “You bet.”

  Her smile pleased him a little too much, but the favor he needed to ask humbled him. “Ordering tickets is easy compared to the one thing I can’t seem to pull off.”

  “What is it?”

  “Sitting down to a family dinner and everyone enjoying it.”

  She tipped her head. “That shouldn’t be too hard.”

  “It’s harder than you think. I tried, and it was awful. If you can stay late one day and have dinner with us, it might help.”

  When she didn’t answer, Ryan followed her gaze across the room to Eric’s cardboard box, where the shark was hanging by a thread. Her expression held a touch of fear as she faced him. “You’re trying hard, aren’t you?”

  “Very.”

  “Just keep at it. It takes time.”

  “I don’t have time.” The boys had been with him for six weeks. The summer was racing by. “I could really use your help.”

  “You don’t need me. This list is for you and your kids.”

  “But—”

  “Ryan, I’m right on this.”

  His name on her lips sounded both sweet and bitter, and he wondered why a simple meal posed a threat to her. “Stay. Just this once.”

  She started to stand but stopped on the edge of the sofa. “Let’s compromise. Name the day and I’ll cook something for the four of you.”

  “That would be great.” But it wasn’t enough. He wanted Carly to share the meal, but convincing her to stay would have to wait for a more relaxed time. “How about next Tuesday?”

  She tapped a finger on her knee. “That should work. Kyle doesn’t have practice that day. Denise won’t be visiting until later in the month, so Penny will be here. I’ll make sure Eric knows, too.”

  “So what’s on the menu?”

  “That’s a surprise.”

  “A hint?”

  “Nope.” After giving him a stern look, she shoved to her feet. “I need to go home.”

  Standing with her, he glanced at his watch. They’d talked for almost an hour. “It’s late. Spend the night in the nanny room.”

  “I can’t. My cat’s waitin
g.”

  He knew a lame excuse when he heard one. “I thought cats could stay alone now and then.”

  “She’s been alone all day.”

  Ryan worried about Carly driving home, but he had no right to pressure her. She was a competent, independent woman. Even so, he waited while she fetched her purse from the nanny room, then walked her to her car. He didn’t have to do it. She was an employee, a member of the household in a formal way, but a masculine caring, a timeless urge to protect her, took root in his chest and refused to budge.

  “See you in the morning,” Carly said as she slipped into the driver’s seat.

  He closed the door and watched her pull out of the driveway. The hush of night descended on him. The sky seemed blacker and the stars more distant, and as he headed to the house, he thought of Carly’s head on the pillow on the couch and gave in to a wave of loneliness. He considered sneaking a cigarette, but he needed to speak with Eric. Disciplined as always, Ryan climbed the stairs one at a time. He reached Kyle’s room first, saw the door open a crack, and heard Kyle murmur something, presumably into his phone. “I like you too, Taylor . . . a lot.”

  For a breath Ryan was young and in love again. He blinked, saw Carly’s pretty face, and felt like a fool. Falling for the nanny was not on his SOS list. Kyle spoke more quietly into the phone, reminding Ryan of that talk they needed to have about girls. It couldn’t wait too long, but this wasn’t the time.

  He passed Kyle’s room and tapped on Eric’s door. After several seconds, he assumed Eric was blasting music through earbuds, opened the door a crack, then fully. Eric was propped on pillows on his messy bed, staring at his computer tablet. At the sight of Ryan, he yanked out the earbuds.

  “Carly told me about the picture of Penny.”

  Eric remained slouched against the stack of pillows with the tablet against his knees. Ryan wondered what Carly would do and decided she’d be herself—direct, truthful, firm. And kind. Eric’s anger was knee-jerk but understandable. His second reaction—to take the Facebook picture down—was the behavior Ryan wanted to encourage.

  He walked into the room and sat on the edge of the bed. “The diorama you made looks great.”

  Eric’s brows lifted, maybe with surprise. “I like using spray paint. Carly said it was all right.”

  Ryan tipped his hat to Carly. He would have said no to the spray paint, but Eric had lived up to her trust. “You did a good job. I hear Penny tried to trash it.”

  Eric’s face was like flint, unmoving, and for a moment Ryan recalled being thirteen and stuffing down every big, confusing feeling. He knew in his gut how hard Eric worked to keep up a tough façade, because Ryan worked just as hard. “I get mad at Penny, too. It was wrong to put that picture online, but you took it down. I’m proud of you for making things right.”

  “I guess.”

  “No guessing. You did the right thing.”

  As Eric shrugged off the praise, Ryan looked into the hazel eyes the boy inherited from Heather. For the millionth time Ryan wished he owned a giant can of the stain remover like the one he used on the berry stains in the Impala, something that could erase the stains on his conscience. But such a thing didn’t exist. All he could do was tell the truth and hope Eric would understand.

  “Six years ago I made a bad mistake,” Ryan admitted. “I’m trying to make things right for all of us, but it’s hard for everyone. I need your help.”

  Eric narrowed his eyes. “What for?”

  “I’d like you to be a little extra patient with Penny. Do you think you can do that?”

  “Why should I?”

  “Because you can.” For all of Eric’s anger, he possessed a healthy brain and a sharp mind.

  Ryan waited for him to say something, anything. Even a sarcastic remark would keep the door open, but his son just stared at him. At a loss, Ryan walked out of the room and closed the door. He’d taken two steps when Eric stepped into the hall and held out a folded piece of paper. “Here. Carly said to give this to you.”

  Ryan opened his mouth to ask what it was, but Eric slipped back into his room and closed the door with a soft click.

  Alone in the hall, Ryan unfolded the note and saw Eric’s Facebook info, complete with password. Pride in his son filled his chest, and he paused to savor this big step toward mutual respect. Knowing Carly would still be awake, he went out to the patio to call her.

  Carly steered the Cavalier into the carport and turned off the ignition. Just as she reached for her purse, her phone chirped. Worried, she checked the caller ID and saw the picture she’d snapped of Ryan. Handsome and unguarded, he filled the screen with a roguish smile.

  “Hi,” she said. “Is everything all right?”

  “It’s great. Eric just gave me his password to Facebook.”

  “Oh, good.”

  “It is, and that’s why I’m calling. He said you told him to do it. Thanks.”

  “I suggested it, but he made the choice.”

  “You’re home. Right?”

  “Just getting out of the car.” She opened the door and scanned the alley. It was empty, but she decided to keep Ryan on the phone until she reached her apartment. “Tell me more.”

  “The conversation was awkward, but we made progress. You were right about Kyle, too.” He described overhearing the phone call with Taylor. “Young love. I barely remember it.”

  “I do! All the drama about dances, those looks across history class.” Laughing a little, she opened the squeaky gate.

  “What was that?”

  “The gate.”

  “Where do you live, anyway?”

  She didn’t want to tell him. If he knew how bad the neighborhood was, he’d pressure her to live in, and she couldn’t do it. “I’m about a half hour from you. I’m at my door now.”

  “Good. I’m staying here until you’re locked up tight.”

  “Okay.”

  Grateful for the protection, even if it was just on the phone, she narrated turning the deadbolt and opening the door. “I’m inside now.”

  “Sweet dreams,” he said.

  “You too.”

  As she closed the door, their good-byes overlapped, touching like a tangle of arms in a first awkward kiss.

  She locked both deadbolts, then slumped against the door and succumbed to a wave of fear—not because of crime and helicopters, neighbors with barbed-wire tattoos, or even because of FASD and Allison. It was because of Ryan and how he made her feel. Warm. Safe. Protected. And something more . . . something dangerously close to love.

  11

  Dressed in a white shirt, flashy tie, and charcoal blazer, Ryan trotted down the stairs ready for work. He’d fallen into the habit of an early morning chat with Carly, and he looked forward to saying good morning enough to set his alarm for it. It was Tuesday, and tonight she’d cook dinner for his family, though she told him repeatedly that she planned to leave the instant the last serving bowl hit the table.

  Just as he expected, she was seated at the kitchen table making a list of some sort. The recessed lighting lit up her hair in a way that reminded him of the beach on a sunny day, and he paused at the doorway. No one else brought calm into his life. With Carly, he felt strong, competent, and even wise. That’s why he had to convince her to stay for dinner.

  She looked up from her notepad with a frown. “Ready for breakfast?”

  “Not yet. What’s wrong?”

  Stifling a yawn, she went to the counter and opened the bread box holding bagels and loaves of wheat, white, and sourdough. The boys ate that much, though the bagels were for him. Carly plopped one in the toaster. “We had a Penny episode yesterday. I would have told you when you got home, but it was a little late.”

  Since the night he walked her home by phone, he’d been concerned about where she lived and made sure she left well before dark. “What happened?”

  “She tried to run away again.”

  “So the problem isn’t solved.”

  “No. We were in the po
ol when she asked me about her mother. The entire incident was weird.”

  “It often is with Penny.” He lifted a mug off the shelf and snapped a pod in the Keurig. Carly busied herself with fixing the bagel for him. They were elbow to elbow, surrounded by the aroma of strong coffee. The other nannies didn’t fix his breakfast, but Carly was more than a nanny.

  Turning, she fetched a tub of cream cheese from the refrigerator. “Penny asked me if her mother still liked to swim—the key word here is still. She seems to think Jenna is alive and living somewhere.”

  “I’ve worried about that. It’s one of the reasons I took her to therapy. With so much going on, Miss Monica said she needed time.”

  “I can’t imagine what it was like for her.”

  “Me either.”

  “Death is complicated for any child, but especially Penny. We talked about heaven and what it’s like, and I told her what I thought, that heaven is everything that’s good about this world but a thousand times better. If her mother liked to swim on earth, she could swim in heaven. Then I told her we can’t go to heaven without help from God.” The toaster popped, but she faced him instead of removing the bagel. “Religion is personal. I suspect we have different views.”

  “We do.”

  “I hope you don’t mind what I told her.”

  “Not at all.” He supported anything that would help Penny cope with her disabilities, even an imaginary god. As for himself, he thought about eternity now and then, at funerals or when he noticed his mother’s Bible on the bottom shelf in his office. Once in a while, on a gray day, he picked it up and read, but the logic of needing a savior escaped him. Though there were times with Penny, like when she ran off, that he wished he could believe.

  Carly plopped the bagel on a plate. “She won’t talk about her mom, but she thinks about her and wonders where she is. Did Penny go to the funeral?”

  “You’re asking about closure.”

  “Exactly.” She slathered the cream cheese just the way he liked it, then handed it to him. “Maybe you should take her to Jenna’s grave.”

  “Can’t do it,” he mumbled while chewing. “She was cremated. Denise hired a boat and scattered the ashes in the ocean. Penny didn’t go, but Denise told her about it.”