by Nelson, Cara
“Mom, he called me a smartass.”
“I heard him,” Ashley said warningly.
“Yeah, I did. She is one. I’m not blaming you. She’s smart and healthy and walks upright, so obviously you’re doing your job. If she acts like a jerk, let’s just put that down to my bad DNA, shall we?”
“I didn’t bring her here so you could call her names.”
“No, you brought me here so he could look at me like a trophy, and then he’d give you the papers you wanted,” Olive said.
Her mother snatched the phone out of her hands and stuck it in her own purse.
“I didn’t say he was wrong. I said he shouldn’t say it to your face. Otherwise, his manners are no better than yours.” She glared at the girl, somewhat justifiably, Kyle thought.
“Fine,” Olive hissed. “What do you want to know?” She turned to Kyle.
“I don’t know. What are you interested in?”
“Money, mainly. I like trucks, fashion, soccer. I want to create my own line of soccer clothes for girls who don’t want to dress like boys on the field.”
“That’s very…innovative of you.”
“I figure a lot of these little princesses will drop some coin on sparkly soccer shirts and socks with bows on them and crap. I’d make a fortune,” she said.
“Don’t say crap,” her mother said.
“What do you think you’re going to do now that you know you’re my biological father? Because Greg is my real dad. He taught me to ride a bike and took me to the monster truck rally last year,” she said mutinously.
Greg smiled proudly at her and lit a cigarette. Kyle glanced from him to the no smoking sign and back again. “Dude, you can’t smoke in here,” he said in a lowered voice.
“Who’s gonna stop me?” He chuckled, showing a rotted front tooth.
Kyle turned his attention back to Olive.
“He always smokes everywhere. Anyone who says anything to him about stopping, he makes them back down. They always say they’re sorry,” she said admiringly.
Kyle resisted the urge to slam his fist into the man’s mouth. He wasn’t sure if it was disgust or plain jealousy. “Can we go to the park or something tomorrow? Get to know each other better?”
“Not by yourself,” Ashley said quickly.
“I want some time with Olive. If it’s okay with her, I’ll give her my phone while we’re together, and she can call and text you as much as you want,” he offered.
“News flash, Kyle. Nine-year-olds do not go to the park for fun. That’s for babies.”
“Really. So what’s not for babies?”
“Shopping,” she said with a crafty grin.
“Okay, can we meet at the Southside Mall around ten?”
Ashley nodded reluctantly. “I’ll pick her up at one,” She put in, “Be outside JC Penney at a quarter to.”
“If that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do,” he said affably. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Olive.”
She shook his hand sourly.
“Care to come tour the self-defense school I started with my brother?” he asked.
Ashley looked at Greg, who shrugged.
Olive nodded half-heartedly. “Maybe there’ll be hot guys there. You can introduce me.”
“You’re nine. Don’t say ‘hot guys’.” Kyle said with finality. “And any guy who looks sideways at my nine-year-old is going to be coughing up teeth.”
Olive giggled. Her laugh was bubbly and surprising, much more likeable than the rest of her had been so far. It made him look twice at her, at an unguarded moment when her blue eyes sparkled instead of looking warily at him. He drove to the fight school and they followed him in their car. He held the door for them and pulled one of Zoe’s fliers off the rack on the wall.
“That’s our class schedule. We have a revolving sign-up, so she could join any class in her age group at any time.”
“We can’t really risk her taking a hit to the kidneys,” Ashley said.
“Understood, but some basic self-defense would be good for her focus and confidence, and might keep her from getting in a brawl where she was at risk for such a hit,” he pointed out. He led them into the gym and through the space where Aaron was teaching an advanced class.
“Hey, brother,” Aaron said, pausing to wipe his face with a towel. “Anyone I should know?”
“This is Greg and Ashley Framm; used to be Ashley Delany. They were looking into classes for their daughter,” he lied easily. The kid cut her eyes at him suspiciously.
When they were back in the lobby, she put her hands on her hips. “What’s the deal with not telling your brother I’m your kid? Ashamed of me?”
“Not at all. It’s a private family matter, and shouldn’t be discussed in a public place,” he said.
Ashley snorted. “You always were one for your secrets, like how you were seeing Roxanne Pulaski on the side when we were together,” she spat.
“Surely at least some of us have matured since then,” he said tightly, “I hope you’ll consider the classes. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He ushered them out to the sidewalk with relief.
As soon as they were gone, he went upstairs. Zoe was cooking something, and he barely said hello to her before going into his bedroom. He sat and looked at the spot where the mirror had been and wondered if Zoe or Aaron was the one who’d cleaned up his glass mess the other day. He dialed Shea’s number.
“Hey, lass,” he said wearily.
“I didn’t expect to hear from you. How did it go with the kid?”
“Not great. She’s a smartass and pretty much told me to back off. Her mom’s hostile and her dad smells like cat piss.”
“Do they have a lot of cats?”
“How would I know?”
“Do me a favor and ask.”
“What for?”
“Because meth makes people smell like cat piss. I did enough time in the ER to know it up close and personal. They’re also really oily and skinny and have sunken cheeks and crappy teeth.”
“He had crappy teeth…do you think he’s a meth head?”
“I don’t know, Dolan. It was just one thought. A ton of people have bad teeth for reasons that have nothing to do with drugs. Maybe he took liquid iron supplements as a kid or ate too much candy. I’m sorry things didn’t go easier for you.”
“Me too. I’m meeting Olive at the mall tomorrow. Any chance you could go with us? I have an eight o’clock class to teach, and I meet them at the mall at ten.”
“You threw me out of a locker room last night and now you want me to meet your daughter? Mood swings much?”
“I thought it might help to have you there, make it less intense than having one-on-one time with the kid. Defuse all the tension,”
“You say that like I’m a calming influence, Dolan. Work with me here. Tomorrow’s my day off, so I can’t claim that I work...I know Zoe would tell you I was lying. Why not tell your brother and his fiancée, and they can go with you? Zoe’s great with kids. Way better than me. I think it’s because she’s so small.”
“I think it’s her personality, but that’s another issue, lass. I trust you, for whatever reason, and it would be a comfort if you’d join us,”
“Well, when you put it like that, I can’t say no, dammit,” she huffed.
Chapter 4—BOSTON, SHEA
Shea waited for him at the mall entrance, shifting her weight from foot to foot. She’s told Zoe she had a date with a guy and was nervous. She hadn’t mentioned Kyle or the kid, but she felt scrutinized, transparent, and utterly incapable of a simple decision. She had half her wardrobe spread out on her bed when Zoe came over to help.
“Err on the side of casual. Keep it friendly. Jeans and a cute top. Here, I brought you one of mine to try,”
“You’re four feet tall. It’ll be a headband on me.”
“I am five foot one, thank you very much. And there’s nothing wrong with a little sliver of tummy,” Zoe urged.
Shea wriggled into the blue to
p and turned to the mirror.
“Chica, that’s more than a sliver. That’s the whole pie, but thanks for trying.” She stripped off the top and flung it atop the pile of rejected clothes.
Shea wanted so badly to tell her that she was nervous because this was Kyle, and what was more, it was meeting Kyle’s little girl. But, sworn to secrecy, she could only suffer in silence and appear neurotically preoccupied with her wardrobe. She settled on a fitted Red Sox tee with jeans and flip flops. It was the only thing that didn’t feel like she was trying too hard, when she knew in her heart that she was trying way too hard, no matter what she wore.
Shea bought a juice smoothie she didn’t really want, just so she’d have something to hold while she waited at the mall entrance for Kyle. She was early to the point of being obsessive, and when he finally arrived, ten minutes before he was supposed to, she hugged him. At least, that was why she told herself she hugged him.
“Nice shirt,” he said, eyeing her Red Sox garb and indicating his own Sox shirt. “I tried for neutrality, since she said the Beatles suck.”
“The Beatles do NOT suck. That child is in need of an education, Dolan.”
“Truer words were never spoken, lass. I’m counting on you today. It’s not easy for me to depend on someone else…I was the man of the house from the time I was eleven years old, and I always stood up for my brother, stood up for my family. This goes against my grain, I guess.”
She tossed her unwanted smoothie in the trash and tried to summon some supportiveness. “It’s bound to be hard. But I have some coupons for Rue 21 and Claire’s if we need to keep her busy. Also, I hear the kids nowadays like to eat.”
“I don’t know how much to tell her about being a fighter, about being the kind of guy who screwed her mom and never looked back. What can I say to her?”
Kyle’s bravado seemed to crumble off him in that moment, and he stood there, as raw and real as she’d ever wished him to be. Instead of feeling triumph, she felt shattered. She wanted to put him back together, strong and sure and optimistic, the way he had been. She didn’t know if she could handle a vulnerable Kyle Dolan. Shifting uncomfortably, she felt tears come to her eyes.
“Just tell her you’ll do better. That you want to be better for her.” Shea stepped forward and kissed him softly on the mouth, mostly because she didn’t know what else to say.
Shea pressed her lips against his, thinking to comfort him with her touch. She wasn’t counting on the jolt she felt, the surge of heat like sparks dancing across her skin. He slanted his mouth over hers and pushed his tongue between her lips. She made an inarticulate sound as his arm snaked around her hips to haul her against him. She felt the hardness of his chest through the thin fabric of her shirt and her nipples tightened almost painfully with desire. Panting, she pulled away.
“What if—” She was going to say ‘what if your kid sees us?’ but the words wouldn’t come out, because she was out of breath.
“What if the sex is better than that kiss?” he finished for her, his voice low against her hair.
“Then you’re a lot more dangerous than I thought, Dolan,” she managed, struggling to be light and snarky, when what she wanted to do was wind her legs around him and see where the day took them.
“I want to be dangerous to your peace of mind, your sureness that you have men all figured out, lass. I’m not like them.”
“So you’re a special snowflake?” she said more harshly than she meant to, her breath still ragged.
“I bet I could make you admit I’m a special snowflake. With both hands tied behind my back,” he said. She felt her toes curl up in her flip flops at the thought.
“I—I’m out of my depth here, Dolan,” she admitted. “I like you too much, and you’re far too good of a kisser. I think I should leave.”
“Too much risk for you? I never had you pegged for the faint of heart,” he said with a slow burn smile.
“You’re right. It’s too much risk. I’m too close to giving my heart away and I don’t think I’d survive you. You could destroy me with the charm and the dimples and the hands—I’m shaking. Look at me. My hands are shaking.” She held out her trembling hands to show him. “I’m rock steady with the tools over a heart patient’s wide open chest, but you’ve got me shaking. I admit it. I can’t handle this—whatever this is supposed to be. So I’m sorry, but I’m leaving before it’s too late.” There was a catch in her voice as she eyed the exit, ready to flee.
“Stay with me, Shea,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “I’m frightened, too.”
“You’re scared about this big life-changing event of being a father—something real. I’m running scared from getting my ass kicked in l—in a relationship,” She faltered, “I can’t help you, Dolan. I can’t even help myself.”
She laid a hand on his chest, her eyes pleading with him to let her go. As much as she knew she should leave and never talk to him again, she knew just as well that she was powerless to walk away from him. She was in his thrall, looking with a helpless mix of fondness and desire at his beautiful eyes.
“My father, God damn his soul, called it a sea change. From The Tempest, let’s see if I remember it—“
“You’re going to stand here in a food court at the mall and quote Shakespeare?”
“And chances are you’ll correct me somehow,” he said. “’For nothing of him that doth fade/but doth suffer a sea-change/into something rich and strange’.”
“I believe you’ve got it right. Something rich and strange…that’s pretty seductive…” she trailed off.
“My father quoted poets when he was drinking, and my mother made us listen to those infernal audio books well into our school years,” he said. “But ‘tis a sad Irishman that can’t know his Yeats from his Dylan Thomas.”
“Fatalists all,” She said with a sigh. “So you’re undergoing a metamorphosis and your bones turning to coral?”
“Not drowned like Ferdinand, but transformed,” he said.
“I thought you dropped out of the SAT vocab course.”
“I never said I didn’t listen while I was there,” he teased back, brushing a lock of hair away from her temple possessively. “Now where’s my prodigal daughter?”
He turned toward the door and saw Ashley and Greg walking the girl in. Olive had a backpack slung over her shoulder and was nodding, obviously annoyed, along with her mother’s instructions. Ashley closed in on them and told him to be at the JC Penney door at 12:45 or there would be hell to pay. He assured her he’d see to Olive’s safety and return her as promised. Once Ashley was gone, Olive seemed to relax a little. She set her bag down on a food court table and started rifling through it.
“Just give me a minute,” she said, pulling a pocket mirror and mascara out and starting on her eyelashes.
“Uh, no. You’re nine years old. Give it here,” he said.
“Why? Is it going to corrupt me worse than you will?” she challenged.
“Sounds like your daughter dropped out of SAT vocab, too. Corrupt?”
“Yeah, be a bad influence, lead me to a life of crime,” she said. “Who are you?”
“I’m Shea Granger. I’m a nurse. Kyle asked me along in case you have some sort of medical emergency,” she said, straight-faced.
“Right, so you’re the girlfriend. Or my new stepmother.” She shrugged and put the mascara away.
“No, I’m—”
“You caught us, Olive. She’s my secret girlfriend.”
“Like I’m your secret daughter. What other secrets have you got here?”
“Just one. I’m still fighting. My brother thinks I quit boxing when he did last year, but I just kept on doing it.”
“I bet your mom’s just thrilled.”
“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” he said.
“Oh yeah it will. Everything always comes back to bite me in the butt. I never get away with crap.”
“Don’t say crap,” Kyle chimed in automatically, and she laughed
.
“You don’t have to say that. My mom’s not here.”
“Okay, don’t say crap around your mom. And everything isn’t against you. You’re my daughter, so everything’s going to work out in the end. I’m a winner, always have been. So are you. I recognize it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re not doomed. You’re chosen. You may have to fight harder to get where you’re going, but you’re destined to come out on top.”
“Does he really believe that crap?” Olive asked Shea.
“With all his heart, so I suggest you back off,” Shea said.
“Fine. We’re chosen. We’re winners.”
“We’re also Catholic so we have the inside track on divine mysteries.”
“Haven’t you seen The Da Vinci Code? That church is corrupt,” she said dismissively.
“I’m not sure why you have seen that movie, but I’m guessing that corrupt is your big word for the day,” he said.
“I’m not Catholic,” She sniffed. “I’m not anything. We don’t do church,”
“Yeah, well, we’ll work on that.”
“I’m not wearing a veil and being a nun.”
“Okay, me neither,” he said, suppressing a laugh, “So, what’s our first stop in the mall? I’m not a native so you’ll have to guide me.”
“Hmmm…” Olive pretended to be deep in thought. “How about a phone?”
“I think you just want to cash in on back birthday presents,” he teased.
“You have ten years of holidays and birthdays and report cards to catch up on. I’m helping you.”
“How are your grades? I wasn’t very good in school. I was lazy,” he said.
“I get A’s and B’s, but it’s boring,” she shrugged.
“That’s really good, Olive,” he said, a small smile tugging at his mouth.
Shea felt her heart melt at the warmth of pride she saw in his eyes when he looked at Olive. It was really hard to hold back and protect herself in the face of this fledgling devotion.
“Whatever. Grades mean nothing. It’s the test scores. The tests are crazy.”
“So I’ve heard.”
