by Thea Dawson
Maybe she felt self-conscious about having her dad in charge.
Or perhaps it was because, even though it was one of the more popular after-school clubs, most of the kids were older, and the majority of them were boys. Although he was sincere in hoping that Lily would enjoy it, his ulterior motive in inviting her was that Peyton would catch some of his excitement for the subject.
The next day, Celia met Mrs. Corbett, the riding teacher, a friendly, weather-beaten woman in her mid-fifties with close-cropped hair and a big smile. Peyton, who had arrived in jodhpurs and riding boots, strapped on her helmet, took the reins of her horse from Mrs. Corbett, and walked confidently into the ring. She looked tiny compared to the huge animal, but she walked with admirable confidence, looking every bit the horsewoman in her riding clothes. The other five kids in the class, in contrast, were wearing winter boots and jeans; a couple wore bicycle helmets in lieu of the traditional hard hats. Peyton stuck out as the overly well-dressed one, Celia thought, but it didn’t seem to bother her. She smiled at the other kids as she took her place in line with them in the ring, and they smiled back.
“You and your little ones are welcome to hang out in the barn,” Mrs. Corbett told Celia. “There are some seats over there—but a lot of moms prefer to just wait in their cars when it’s this cold.” She shrugged apologetically. “Sorry we can’t offer you something warmer!”
“No problem. I’ll just see her get started and then we’ll probably wait in the car.”
“In the spring, it’ll be more fun for your little ones. We’ve got a couple of dogs around here and some cats, usually some kittens. And maybe your oldest could take lessons as well.”
“Can I, Mom?” Lily latched on to Celia’s arm excitedly.
Celia smiled politely at Mrs. Corbett, cursing her inwardly. “Hm, maybe when it gets warmer. Come on, let’s go wait in the car. Maybe you can get all your homework done before Peyton’s ready to leave.”
Lily’s face fell, and Celia’s heart went with it. She hated to deny Lily lessons while her friend was taking them. But she’d checked the stable’s website before coming and the lessons would be too much of an extravagance right now. She sighed, longing for the day when she wouldn’t have to count every penny.
Lily trudged back to the car looking mildly rebellious but she settled in and took out a notebook. Rosie, released from her car seat, began telling Rowan a long, made-up fairytale. Rowan listened intently as if he actually understood her, interrupting with an occasional squeal or gurgle. Celia had to keep the engine running in order for them all to stay warm. She resented the waste of gas but she reminded herself that she was earning money while sitting there—and it beat freezing to death.
The time passed quickly enough, though Celia was bored and Rowan was getting fussy by the time Peyton stabled her horse and put away her tack.
“Is riding fun?” Lily asked her as she climbed back into the car.
Peyton nodded. “But it’s too cold now. I like doing it in the summer better.”
Lily looked at Celia again hopefully. “You said maybe I can take lessons when it gets warmer?” she suggested.
Celia put the car into reverse and began backing out of the stable’s muddy driveway. “Mmm, we can definitely think about it,” she said.
Maybe by the time spring came around Lily would have lost interest ... or somehow Celia would have found a way to afford it.
7
Wednesday afternoon, Celia was back to her normal life ... sort of. Instead of leaving the house at three to pick Lily up, she simply stayed put, waiting for Richard to bring Lily home at 4:30. Thought it was a little unsettling to be out of her regular routine, it was also a nice change to not have to bundle up Rosie and Rowan for the drive across town.
She let Rosie and Rowan nap a little longer than usual and spent the time preparing for this semester’s design class. It would be taught by Paul Harding, a successful designer who was based in Portland but taught one night class a semester at Falls State. He was about her age, maybe a few years younger, and ran an established and successful design firm in Portland. Despite his reputation for being very demanding—a reputation that Celia knew from experience was well-deserved—he was popular, and Celia was looking forward to the class.
Fortunately, she only needed to be physically in class once a week; most of the interaction would take place online. She glanced through the list of required materials. Most of it—like the subscription to the standard design software package and the art supplies--she already had. It was a relief to know that she probably wouldn’t have to spend much more on the class than she already had.
The sound of a car in the driveway shortly after 4:30 caused her to get up. Lily came through the door and pushed past Celia, who waved at Richard in his BMW. He gave Celia a pleasant wave in return and drove off.
“How was engineering club?” Celia asked as Lily shrugged out of her winter jacket and kicked off her boots.
“It was really cool! We made bristlebots.” The enthusiasm in Lily’s voice was a nice change from her usual taciturn attitude.
“What’re those?”
“You take the brush part of a toothbrush, and a battery, and a tiny little motor like what’s in a phone and you attach them all together and it really moves! Look.”
She fished around in her backpack and took out the bristlebot. Sure enough, it was a toothbrush head with a tiny motor and battery wired to its plastic back. She set it on the floor where it immediately began moving, its bristles vibrating over the scratched wooden boards.
“That’s awesome!” Celia was impressed. It hadn’t occurred to her that Lily would be making things that actually moved on her very first day.
“Richard’s really nice and funny. He wants everyone to bring in dead batteries because we’re going to make toy cars out of them. And later, we’re going to make toy helicopters that actually fly! Rosie!” she yelled, “Come see my bristlebot!”
Rosie, Rowan, and Lily played with the bristlebot, entranced, while Celia made dinner, mulling over the change that engineering club had wrought in normally reserved Lily—not to mention Lily’s description of Richard as “nice and funny.” She could see that Richard might be “nice” if you caught him in the right mood, but it was hard to imagine him clowning around with a bunch of elementary school students. But it was an appealing image, and she kept it in mind as she cooked.
When Richard came home the next evening, he was greeted by the smell of chicken in the oven. Celia was seated at the kitchen table studying something on her laptop. What a luxury to come home to dinner already in the oven, he thought. He was about to tell her how good it smelled when she looked up at him and flashed him a big smile.
“Welcome home! Thanks so much for yesterday. Lily absolutely loved the bristlebot. She hasn’t stopped talking about it.”
The bright look in her eyes made him smile in return. She was wearing jeans and an oversized wool sweater, her blond hair pulled into a messy bun at the top of her head. She wasn’t wearing her shoes, having discarded them in the mudroom, and he caught a glimpse of her brightly patterned socks.
Richard hung his coat up on one of the hooks and turned back to her, pleased to hear that Lily had enjoyed the club. “She’s a natural,” he assured her. “I try not to go too heavy into the science because I don’t want them to feel like it’s just another class, but she picked up on the technical details very quickly. She’s obviously a very bright kid.”
Celia beamed. “Thank you. Lily’s always leaned more toward math and science, and I’m afraid it’s hard for me to relate. I’m more the art and reading type.”
“She says she likes to bake. Plenty of science to talk about there.”
“I guess.” Celia stood up and began putting her kids’ belongings in the enormous tote bag she always brought with her. “I never really thought about the science side of it.”
He got a glass and poured himself a drink of water. “You probably just didn’t have good
teachers. It’s amazing to me how people can make the most interesting stuff in the world boring.”
“That was kind of the problem with Lily’s old school,” Celia agreed. “All about teaching to the test and not really about learning. It didn’t work well for Lily at all.”
“Exactly!” He nodded at her over the glass. “Doesn’t really work for most kids, some just adapt to it better than others.” Their eyes met, and he felt a moment of connection that had nothing to do with engineering club.
He would have liked to have continued talking to her—science education was his passion—but he was mindful of the time. Susan would be calling soon, and he needed to be able to concentrate when he talked to her. Celia opened her mouth to say something else, but he cut her off.
“Anyway, I’m glad we’ve got her in the club,” he said, glancing at his watch. “I need to take a call in a few minutes.”
Celia blinked, looking a bit taken aback, and the feeling of connection evaporated instantly. Oh, crap, had he been rude again? He groped for a way to soften his words, but Celia spoke before he could think of anything.
“No problem.” She gave him a reassuring nod. “Let me get my kids together and we’ll get out of your hair.”
She rounded up her kids in the space of a couple of minutes, swept up her remaining belongings, and was stuffing her laptop into her enormous canvas tote bag just as his phone rang.
He glanced at the caller id and turned away to answer it, a sudden wave of nerves coming over him. He was about to set something in motion that could have huge consequences for him and, by extension, Peyton. He swallowed, feeling like a schoolboy on a first date, and picked up the call, put a wide smile on his face and infused his voice with warmth. “Susan, how’re you doing, sweetheart?”
As Susan greeting him cheerfully, Richard turned back to wave good bye to Celia, but was only in time to see the door shutting quietly behind her.
Who was Susan?
Celia had heard the name as she’d slipped out of the house the previous Thursday—and not just the name, but the “sweetheart” that followed it, and the warm friendliness in Richard’s voice.
A week had passed, and the nanny routine was starting to feel normal: they’d get home, shed their damp coats in the mudroom, the kids would have a snack, then Lily and Peyton would do homework together while Rowan and Rosie played in the kitchen.
The prospect of being able to play with Peyton seemed to motivate Lily to get her homework done with less resistance than Celia usually faced at home. Once that was out of the way, Rosie, Peyton and Lily—and occasionally Rowan—usually disappeared up to Peyton’s room while Celia prepped dinner. Richard always left precise instructions for dinner and they were rarely much of a burden. Usually they consisted of defrosting chicken, marinating meat, or chopping a few vegetables—after which she’d open her laptop while Rowan played on a blanket at her feet. Her class didn’t start until the following Monday, but she perused job boards, read up on theory and played around with her design software.
Peyton had showed her the state-of-the-art sound system with speakers throughout the house. She couldn’t imagine that Richard would mind, so she’d chosen some baroque music and set it to playing quietly in the kitchen. Occasionally, she’d lift her head to admire the pretty backyard as it gradually faded into the early northwestern night, and would let her mind wander to her intriguing, infuriating boss.
Celia thought of herself as an uncomplicated person—she did her best to be friendly and helpful; people were generally friendly and helpful to her in return—but Richard could be friendly and warm one minute, then cold and distant the next. His mood swings annoyed her and kept her from feeling completely at ease in his presence, but she couldn’t deny that they also made him more interesting, like a puzzle she couldn’t quite figure out.
And of course, as Tracie had pointed out, he was hot AF.
Which was probably the real reason she found him so intriguing. Romance had not been a priority since, oh, probably around the time that Rowan was conceived, and even then, the stress and complications of her marriage had overshadowed every other aspect of her relationship with Brad. Since then, between the dissolution of her marriage, Brad’s death, and the daily grind of trying to provide for her family, she hadn’t had enough time, energy or interest to so much as think about sex, let alone pursue a relationship with anyone.
It was kind of exciting to feel those sensations flaring up again, like dormant embers sparked to life … even if the attraction was just physical, and obviously one-sided.
When she picked the kids up on Friday, Lily and Peyton insisted that they didn’t have homework, so when the pair begged to go play in the newly fallen snow that blanketed the back yard, she let them jump out of the van and bypass the house altogether. The snow wouldn’t last long, so they might as well make the most of it.
As she was pulling chubby Rowan out of his car seat and helping Rosie out of the car, a woman walking a tiny dog passed her on the opposite sidewalk, waved, and crossed the street to greet her.
“Hi, I’m Marcie Brown. I live a couple houses down. I’ve seen you come in in the afternoons. Are you looking after Peyton now?”
“Oh, hi. Yes, I’m Celia. Peyton and my daughter Lily go to school together.”
They shook hands. Marcie was older than Celia, probably in her mid-fifties. She had short, dark hair and wore an expensive coat and nice leather gloves. Her chihuahua wore both a padded coat and tiny little bootees but still shivered on the freshly shoveled sidewalk.
“Do you know Richard well?” Marcie asked, her eyebrows raised as if to suggest that this was a serious inquiry, not idle chit chat.
“Not very. A friend introduced us when she found out he needed childcare.”
Marcie gave an understanding nod and studied Celia intently. Celia smiled back, wondering how long she’d have to chat with Marcie before she could go in without being rude. It was getting cold, and something about Marcie’s overly wide, bright-lipsticked smile struck her as fake. Plus Rowan was getting heavy and Rosie was tugging at her hand. “Well, it was nice to—” she started, but Marcie cut her off.
“I’m so glad Richard found someone to look after Peyton.” Marcie pressed her lips together and shook her head sadly. “I mean, after everything that poor girl’s been through.” She dropped her voice confidingly. “I’m not sure how much you know, but there was some ... unpleasantness before Melanie finally found it in herself to leave. Though how Richard ended up with custody is beyond me. You don’t want to get on Richard’s bad side, I can tell you that. Terrible temper, that man.” She paused for dramatic effect.
“Oh.” Celia was at a loss of what to say. She was undeniably curious about what had happened between Richard and his ex-wife, but she’d taken an almost instant dislike to Marcie and didn’t want to encourage her. “Well ... I guess that’s good to know. Like I said, I’m just looking after Peyton a few afternoons a week. I don’t really know Richard all that well.”
Marcie nodded understandingly. “Well, maybe he’s seen the light and gotten the help he needed. I live in that red house right there. If you ever need anything, anything at all, you just come find me, okay?”
“Sure, thank you.” Celia was beginning to shiver now, both from the cold and from a shot of nervous tension, and Rosie was whining audibly. “Well, I’d better get these guys inside ...” she hinted.
“Of course. Lovely to meet you, Celia. Like I said, I live there. Don’t hesitate if you need anything. Anything.”
“I met your neighbor Marcie this afternoon.” Celia was putting away some dishes as Richard took off his coat and hung it up in the mudroom.
Richard grimaced. “Ah, the neighborhood gossip. Every cul-de-sac’s got one.”
“Yeah, she was definitely curious about what I was doing here.”
“I hope she was polite to you,” Richard said.
Celia looked up at Richard, who was frowning, his mouth set in a hard line. He obvio
usly didn’t like Marcie much. “Oh, she was fine,” she said, faintly alarmed at the thought of creating bad blood between neighbors. “Seemed very friendly.”
Richard snorted as he kicked of his boots and padded into the kitchen. “She was rude to Angel a few times. You’re probably more in keeping with the type of person she expects to see in her neighborhood.”
His expression lightened to something close to amusement as he stepped around Rowan, who was holding on to one of the kitchen table legs as he practiced a wobbly standing position. “Excuse me, buddy.”
“Like how?” Celia
His face darkened again. “Like not Hispanic, for one. She kept implying that Angel was illegal, and she’d talk to her as if she didn’t understand English. For the record, Angel was born in Sacramento and grew up in Eugene.”
Richard could be intimidating, especially when he looked like he did now, but she sensed that his grim expression was born more out of protectiveness for Angel than from antagonism toward Marcie. Eva and Sam had vouched for Richard, and Marcie obviously relished any form of drama. However annoying Richard could be, she had a hard time believing that his temper would actually be cause for concern.
But a little voice came unbidden into her mind: You never thought that Brad could be violent, either.
Just then, Richard’s phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket. Celia noticed his expression light up as he glanced at it. “Will you excuse me? I need to get this.” He turned away from her and stepped toward the living room. “Hello, Susan!” he said to the phone, his voice suddenly warm.
Celia felt a renewed rush of curiosity. Who was this Susan? A friend? A co-worker? The friendly tone of his voice and the sudden look of boyish eagerness on his face made her think she might be something more.
Not that it was any of her business, she reminded herself. Richard was single and good looking, and clearly also a man who liked his privacy. There was no reason he wouldn’t have a love interest, and it wasn’t as if he was going to share the details with his nanny.
