by Nan Dixon
Isabella’s hair was brushed and her face and hands were cleaner now. Thank God.
“Talk to me.” Mom pulled out bread, butter and leftover ham. She made a quick sandwich and cut it into four triangles.
The girl watched Mom with brown eyes that dominated her tiny face.
Nathan waved a hand. “Go ahead and eat.”
Mom poured a glass of sweet tea and stood next to him. “Who is she?”
“She’s...” God, he wanted that beer. And maybe another six. “She’s my daughter.” The words flew out of his mouth.
His mother’s face paled. She grabbed a chair, sinking in it. “Daughter?” Her voice barely carried over the hum of the fridge.
He nodded. “I thought about doing a test.”
Mom shook her head. “Look at her. She’s the spitting image of you and Daniel.”
He stared as Isabella devoured her food.
“When did you find out?” Mom stroked a hand down Isabella’s hair.
“About twenty minutes ago.”
“Today?”
He nodded.
“I have a granddaughter.” Her voice filled with wonder.
Good. He needed Mom’s enthusiasm.
Mom touched Isabella’s shoulder. “How old are you, honey?”
She held up her hand and pulled her thumb down.
“Four?” Nathan hoped the numbers weren’t jumbling in his head.
The girl nodded and took another sandwich triangle.
Mom hustled over to the cupboard, found a small glass and poured milk. Then she diced pieces of ham and slid them onto the plate.
“Where has she been?” Mom asked.
“I...” Nathan ran a hand through his hair. “Heather dropped her off and left. She said something about going into treatment.”
Mom hugged his shoulders. “You get to take care of this precious girl.”
“I can’t.” He was panicking just thinking about it. “I don’t know anything about kids.”
“No parent does at first.” Mom squeezed his hand. “You’ll learn. There are plenty of books that can help.”
All his muscles tensed. “I can’t read.”
“It takes you longer, but you can read.” She frowned. “You could try books on tape, too.”
“I don’t have that kind of time.” He had a restaurant to build.
Mom raised her eyebrows. “For children, you make the time.”
“I was h-hoping you’d help,” he sputtered.
“Of course I will.” She grinned. “I have a granddaughter.”
“I mean...” He waved his hand around. “Have her live here. With someone who knows about kids.”
“She’s your daughter.” The smile slipped off his mom’s face. “You need to get to know her.”
“I will.” He paced.
Her chair squeaked as she stood. She headed to the fridge and brought back the milk carton. “She’ll live with you.”
He ripped at his hair. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You’ll learn.”
“Learn?” His voice grew louder. “Me? Impossible.”
Isabella stopped eating. Her gaze bounced between Nathan and his mom.
Pop came down the back stairs, rubbing his neck like he’d just taken a nap. He probably had. His chemo treatments were brutal. He stopped, looking between Nathan and his mom as they faced off.
Then Pop spotted the kid. “Who do we have here?”
Mom took Pop’s hand. “Samuel, meet Isabella, our granddaughter.”
“Our...” Pop’s gaze shot to Nathan. Disapproval tightened the lines around his mouth. “Our granddaughter?”
Nathan swallowed. Not able to find the words, he nodded.
“Nathan just found out,” Mom added.
Pop crouched in front of the girl, his knees popping. “What’s your name again?”
“Isabella,” Nathan and his mom said together. Nathan set a hand on the kid’s trembling shoulder. “She doesn’t say much.”
“Debbie, do I smell pie?” Pop asked.
Mom nodded.
“Well, why don’t we try some of that?” Pop asked Isabella.
The kid nodded. She’d already finished the sandwich and extra ham. Hadn’t Heather fed her?
While Mom pulled out plates and the pie, Nathan whispered, “I don’t know how to care for a kid. How about you and Mom handle that for me?”
Pop raised a bushy white eyebrow. “I’ve raised my kids.”
Nathan rubbed at the ache in his chest. “I can’t screw up.”
“You’ll figure everything out.” Pop slapped him on the back. “Just like we did.”
He couldn’t do this alone. He wasn’t prepared.
Mom set a piece of pie in front of him.
Nathan stabbed at the slice, bringing a forkful to his lips. The tart lemon made his mouth water.
There had to be someone he could tap to take care of the kid.
He thought through the women he’d dated in Savannah. There was Tracie, but she could barely take care of herself. Gabby—aptly named since she talked everyone’s ear off—was kind of an airhead. A nice airhead, but still not right.
He’d never been attracted to the motherly types.
The only mother he knew was...Cheryl. They lived next door to each other.
Hope had him releasing a deep exhale. Cheryl.
* * *
CHERYL COULDN’T AFFORD to pay for her next culinary class. She swallowed back a sour taste. She would have to apply for grants and financial aid.
She stared at the paperwork scattered over her kitchen table. Well, not her kitchen table—the Fitzgeralds’. She’d left all her furniture behind when she’d run from Levi.
What a sorry life. The only things she and Josh owned were their clothes and a car. And the bank owned most of the car. A car Nathan still had.
It was after seven. What was he doing? She’d planned to go grocery shopping after work. She needed her car.
“Bath time, Josh,” she called.
“I took one last night,” he yelled from the living room.
“And today you poured concrete and moved dirt for Miss Bess.”
Josh came into the kitchen. “Can I take a shower?”
“If you promise to scrub. Everywhere.”
He looked offended. “Promise.”
She turned on the shower taps while he stripped. “In the hamper, please.”
Back in the kitchen, she straightened her papers. She had to apply for loans online, but didn’t have a computer. Luckily, the Fitzgeralds didn’t mind her using the business center. She’d head over in the morning.
There was a knock at the kitchen door and Cheryl jumped. Couldn’t help it. No one knocked on that door. Even though it had to be Nathan with her car keys, her belly did a little flip.
She was safe. Levi was in prison. “Who is it?”
“Nathan.”
Unlocking the dead bolt, she pulled on the swollen door to find Nathan and Isabella on the other side. Nathan’s face was drawn and solemn.
“I could fix that for you.” He examined the sides of the door.
“I don’t use this door.”
His gaze snapped over to hers. “Can we come in?”
She wanted her keys. Stepping back, she let them into the kitchen. Isabella swayed on her feet. “Shouldn’t she be in bed?” Cheryl whispered.
Nathan shook his head. “I...I don’t have a bed for her.”
He helped Isabella up onto a kitchen chair. She crossed her arms on the table, put her head down and closed her eyes.
Cheryl gnawed her lower lip. “She’s old enough not to fall out of bed if she sleeps with you.”
> “I don’t know what to do with a kid.” He paced to the table and stared at the papers. “I need help.” He held her gaze with those deep brown eyes.
“What?” She wanted to sweep up the loan paperwork so he wouldn’t see her financial state.
“You have a bunk bed.” He stepped closer. “Can she sleep here?”
“Here?” Her voice squeaked.
“Could you help me out?” His body slumped. “Please?”
His issues weren’t hers. She had problems of her own.
Isabella whimpered. Nathan didn’t comfort her.
Cheryl’s resolve cracked. The child shouldn’t suffer because Nathan didn’t know what he was doing. “Just for tonight.”
A smile broke over his face like a sunrise. She hated the gooey feeling it gave her.
“When Josh is done in the bathroom, you need to give her a bath,” she warned.
His smile evaporated. “But she’s a girl.”
“Yes.” She shook her head. “Does she have pajamas?”
“I don’t know.” Nathan sighed. “I’ll check.” He escaped to his apartment.
Cheryl stroked Isabella’s back. The girl blinked, but didn’t say anything. That was...different.
“Are you ready for a bath?” Cheryl asked.
Isabella nodded, her eyes heavy. Cheryl held out her arms and the girl reached up. Josh was so sturdy, but Isabella felt like she would float away.
The shower was off. Cheryl knocked, then bumped the bathroom door open with her hip, still holding the sleepy girl.
Josh was brushing his teeth. “What’s she doing here?” he asked, his mouth full of foam.
She should have asked Nathan to look for a toothbrush for Isabella. “She’s sleeping in the bunk bed tonight.”
“A girl?” He shook his head. “That’s for my friends.”
Maybe Cheryl needed to set more play dates with both boys and girls. The few kids Josh had asked to sleep over were all boys. That was fine but she didn’t like his attitude. “She’ll sleep there tonight.”
Josh finished with his teeth and started to leave.
“Hang up your towel.” She turned on the faucet and filled the tub. “And please bring Isabella a towel and washcloth from the closet.”
He grumbled but came back with a towel set she’d used when he was a baby. The memory was bittersweet. That had been such a wonderful time. Brad had been in-country and they’d been happy.
“Thank you.” She stripped the dirty T-shirt off Isabella. “You can read until I bring Isabella in.”
Josh grumbled but, as she undressed Isabella, she heard the ladder creak as he climbed to the top bunk.
Cheryl could count Isabella’s ribs. Even at their worst, she’d always made sure Josh had enough to eat.
“Climb in, honey.” She helped the little girl sit in the tub.
The pop of the swollen kitchen door announced Nathan’s return. She turned, hating that her back was to the door.
He came in with a grocery bag. “I couldn’t find any PJs, but there’s shorts and T-shirts.” The clothes he held up were obviously dirty.
“We’re not putting her in those. I’ll...find something of Josh’s.”
“Thanks.” He backed out the door.
“Where are you going?” Cheryl kept her tone mild because Isabella watched them.
“I thought I’d...” He pointed down the hall.
“You need to give her a bath.”
His eyes widened.
“She needs a toothbrush, too.” She poured soap on the washcloth. “Here.”
“You want me to scrub?” Nathan’s eyes were huge now.
She handed him the washcloth. “She’s your daughter.”
Squeezing past him, she inhaled his scent. He smelled good. Citrus and woodsy.
“Mom, what’s this word?” Josh asked as she came into his room.
She stood on the edge of the bottom bunk to see. “Kayak.”
“Kayak.” He giggled. “It’s a funny word. Shouldn’t it be pronounced like ‘kay’ in okay?”
“I guess it didn’t want to be plain.” She kissed his cheek. “I love you.”
“I love you to the moon and back.” He hugged her.
This was her little boy. The one who gave hugs and told her he loved her. Why can’t he always be this way?
She dug in the box of his outgrown clothes and found a pair of PJs with ducks all over them.
“Those are mine.” Josh quacked.
Brad had always quacked when Josh wore those PJs. Cheryl couldn’t believe he remembered. “Isabella’s going to borrow them,” she choked out.
“Yuck. They’ll have girl cooties.” Josh wrinkled his nose.
She shook her head and moved back to the bathroom.
Nathan knelt next to the tub, filling the space.
“I guess we need to wash this hair.” Nathan grabbed the plastic cup she used for Josh and dipped it into the tub. “Ready?”
Isabella covered her eyes with her hands.
Nathan didn’t tip the girl back, just dumped the water over her head. And she didn’t complain. He picked up Cheryl’s shampoo.
“Not that one. It’ll sting.” She reached over his head and grabbed the baby shampoo from the corner rack. Her breast brushed the top of his head.
He took in a breath. She scrambled back.
“Here.” She held out the bottle, her face hot.
He had to stretch to get the shampoo. Squirting a little in his hand, he held it up for her inspection. “Enough?”
She nodded.
Nathan bit his lip and rubbed the shampoo through Isabella’s wet hair. His actions were so slow and gentle it was possible nothing was getting clean. Isabella kept her hands over her eyes.
Another time she would suggest he make shapes with Isabella’s soapy hair. Josh used to like being a dragon or a lion. He’d spend his bath time roaring.
Her son was only six and Cheryl was already reminiscing about his childhood.
She got closer, making sure she didn’t bump into Nathan. Hard when he took up so much space. “Why don’t I help you rinse?”
“Thanks.” He let out a deep breath.
“Lean back.” She tipped Isabella down. Nathan filled the cup and carefully worked the soap out of Isabella’s hair.
After sitting her up, Cheryl found a comb and ran it through the girl’s wet hair. “Is everything clean?”
“Yup,” Nathan said.
“I brought some PJs.” She handed Nathan the towel. “Let me find a toothbrush.”
By the time she came back, Nathan was struggling to pull the top over Isabella’s head.
Cheryl checked on Josh. “Time to call it a night, sport.”
“But they’re on the lake and they’ve lost their paddle.” His voice was thick with sleep.
“You’ll save them tomorrow.” She climbed up and kissed him. “Love you.”
“Love you.” His eyes closed. “Don’t tell my friends a girl slept here.”
“Humph.” She set the book on the nightstand and clicked off the light.
Enough light spilled from the hallway to guide Nathan to the bunk bed. Cheryl pulled back the sheets on the lower bunk and Nathan set Isabella in the bed. She brushed a kiss on Isabella’s forehead. “Good night, angel.”
Isabella whimpered and thrashed, as if searching for something.
“Does she have a blanket or a toy that she sleeps with?” Cheryl asked.
“God. How would I know?” He stumbled out the door. There was rustle of paper. He rushed back into the room. “I found the blanket she was carrying, but it’s filthy.”
Isabella grabbed it, hugging it to her cheek. Nathan winced.
“It’ll be okay.” Cheryl started to pat his shoulder, but that was too intimate in the darkened room. “You can wash it tomorrow.”
Nathan knelt and touched his daughter’s shoulder. “Night, Isabella.”
Cheryl didn’t stay to see if he hugged or kissed the girl. Heading back to the kitchen, she filled the kettle for her evening cup of tea.
Without turning, she knew from the way the air changed in the room that Nathan stood in the doorway. She asked, “All tucked in?”
“Yeah.” He paused. “How much would I have to pay you to keep her?”
“Your daughter?” Horror raced through her like a wildfire.
“How much would you charge to take care of her for the next couple of months?”
CHAPTER FOUR
MAYBE THIS WAS a mistake, but Nathan was desperate.
“You’d pay me to take care of your daughter?” Cheryl’s face filled with shock.
“You’re an expert.” He held up his hands.
“I can’t—”
“Can you think about it?” he interrupted.
“No.” Cheryl looked at him like he was sludge from a sewer line. “She’s your daughter.”
“I don’t know how to take care of her. It’s dangerous leaving a child with someone like me. Just...think about it. Please.” He yanked open the door. “Thanks for helping today.”
She slammed the door in his face and snapped the lock shut.
Nathan threw open his apartment door and headed straight to the fridge. His beer opened with a hiss. Now what? If Cheryl refused, who else could he turn to—Daniel? They weren’t that close. His brother would tell him to clean up his own damn mess. Besides, Daniel and Bess were getting married this summer. He wasn’t stupid enough to suggest they take on a kid.
Tipping his head, he slammed back half the beer. How long would Cheryl let—his brain wouldn’t retrieve his kid’s name—stay? He finished the beer and pitched the bottle into the open recycling bin.
After four years, why would Heather insist he take care of their kid?
He dug through the bags, but couldn’t find anything that looked like Heather’s phone number.
He grabbed another beer from the fridge. What the hell should he do now? He kicked back in the lounge chair and drank.
* * *
SOMEONE SCREAMED.
Nathan jerked upright. The leg rest on the lounge chair snapped closed. Hell, he’d fallen asleep.
