by Ted Evans
“Hey,” she says softly “I’m not a bad mom. But I’m a single mom and it’s hard sometimes.”
Liam doesn’t answer her. His experiences with moms are limited to his own mother and it wasn’t exactly cupcakes and kisses.
“Thank you. For fixing my sink,” she says to him.
He can hear the catch in her voice. He never could resist a woman in tears. Fuck, he hoped she held it together until he got out of her apartment. He shakes her hand off of his and starts to turn the knob but stops again.
“Next time you got a problem, call the manager or maintenance guy. I pay my rent and this ain’t my job.”
Then he snatches open the door and stomps down the hallway to his own apartment. When he glances back at her door before opening his own, she’s still in the doorway, watching him.
Chapter Three
Willow
Willow pulls off her little black apron and bundles it into her work locker, slamming and locking the metal door before dropping into a nearby plastic chair and counting her tips. They’d been short-staffed and overrun with customers all evening but judging from the paltry pile in her hand they weren’t feeling all that generous tonight. At this point she’s basically just working to pay the sitter. She just can’t seem to get ahead. Willow kicks at the bottom of her locker, the metal ringing her frustration as she pulls on her jacket and heads out the back door of the club to the bus stop.
Fifteen minutes later, Willow is wiggling her key in the lock and slipping quietly into her apartment. Olivia is on the sofa, engrossed in her phone, and Frank is pushing a plastic truck around and through the legs of the coffee table. Willow looks at the clock on VCR and swears quietly under her breath.
“Olivia,” she says, her voice high with fake sweetness, “why isn’t Frank in bed?”
“Mommy!” Frank flies across the room and flings himself onto Willow’s legs, wrapping his little arms around her knees. She smooths her hand across his hair before gently detangling him and giving him a little nudge toward his toy truck. “Mommy needs to talk to Olivia, honey.” He gives her kneecap a smacking kiss before toddling back to his play.
Olivia has stood up, her hip cocked, arms crossed. Light winks off the ring in her raised eyebrow. Everything about her screams attitude and Willow hasn’t even said anything to her yet.
“Olivia,” Willow starts patiently “I’ve asked you to please have him in bed eight-thirty. It’s almost nine-thirty now. I don’t ask you for much and he’s a well-behaved kid. Could you do that next time? Please?”
Olivia holds out her hand without answering. Willow sighs and drops a pile of bills into her outstretched palm, waiting as she quickly counts it.
“Yeah, you don’t pay me enough to bathe a kid.” Olivia ruffles the bills at Willow.
“What? You get most of MY tips every night!” Willow’s voice is rising and she tries to level down her volume when she sees Frank look over.
The sitter shrugs and sucks on her teeth. “Not my problem. You don’t pay me enough to do anything really. You don’t have cable or even any decent snacks. What am I supposed to do?”
“Um, how about you watch my son! You know, the job you get paid to do?” Willow’s temper is rising and she’s trying not to reach over and knock the girl off her feet.
“Whatever. I don’t even think I can keep coming back over here for this kind of money. I’m gonna need more, I think.”
“I don’t have more.”
The girl shrugs one shoulder and glances down at her phone. Willow’s head nearly explodes.
“It’s straight cash in your pocket! You don’t even pay taxes on it, I do! I don’t ask you to do much for it.”
Olivia gives her a blank look. “You gotta pay me more.”
Willow reaches over and snatches the door open. “I can’t. Don’t come back if you expect more pay.”
The sitter shrugs one more time and slouches out the door, head already bent over her phone, fingers flying across the screen before Willow slams the door shut behind her.
Damn it. Willow flips the locks closed and turns to find Frank staring at her. She crosses the room and sweeps him up, hugging him to her, breathing in his little-boy smell before carrying him to the bedroom and putting him to bed.
Willow watches as the clock crawls past 3:30 before finally picking up her phone and calling in to work. It’s pretty obvious to her at this point that the babysitter isn’t going to come back today. She listens with half an ear as her manager chews her out for missing a scheduled shift, peppering in an “Uh huh” and an “Mm hm” when it seems appropriate. There’s nothing she can do about it. No babysitter means no work. Simple as that. When she finally gets her manager off the phone and off her back she turns to Frank and gives him a big smile.
She picks up her phone and makes a call. Her mom had been calling her the last couple of weeks. Willow thought that it was strange. Her mom had had her young, when she was sweet sixteen. She never knew her father and on her third birthday she remembers her mom kissing her in the middle of the night saying that she’d be home soon.
That was the last time she saw her. The crazy part was that Willow didn’t think that she could recognize her if she saw her on the street. Her grandparents had raised her and she knew that if things got too much she could always go back home to them.
But there was one problem. Going back there could put them in danger; something that she never wanted to do. Calling them once a while and telling them she was safe was all Willow did. If they knew the truth they would try to help her. A risk that she wasn’t willing to take.
“Mommy gets to stay home tonight, sweetie.”
“Yay!” He dances around her feet, curls bouncing, happy at the prospect of a night home with Mommy.
“Come on, let’s go to the library and find another movie to watch and then we’ll cook dinner.” Willow gathers up her bag and slips a jacket onto Frank before heading down the stairs and out onto the sidewalk, Frank’s little hand in hers.
***
Later, Willow’s in her kitchen, staring at the amount of food she’s made. Meatloaf, potatoes, green beans, rolls; it’s far too much for just her and Frank. It will go bad before they can eat through it. She couldn’t help it, though, she really did love to cook but didn’t always have the opportunity to do it. Or the money. But today, thanks to one of the sweet librarians who had passed on a stack of coupons along with instructions on how to use them, Willow managed to buy more than she normally would have been able to afford and she couldn’t resist the chance the make a healthy, home-cooked meal for Frank.
Sighing, she heads into the living room to get Frank so he can wash up for dinner. When she flicks off her TV she hears the sound of a ball game coming from the other side of the wall. The neighbor’s up. Willow chews on the inside of her lip as she considers the wall. Sure, the guy had been surly the other day but he had helped her. The least she could do is offer him a decent meal. But he did give off a very “back-off” vibe. She had interrupted him though; she’d probably be a little short with some strange person showing up at her door asking for help, too. It wasn’t like she was bothering him for help again, she wanted to pay him back the best way she knew how. Before she can change her mind again, she grabs Frank by the hand and heads down the hall.
Willow takes a deep breath and knocks rapidly on Liam’s door. She smiles down at Frank as he sings a nursery rhyme under his breath, his little hand warm in hers. Her hand tightens on his when she hears boots clomping toward the door.
“Ow, Mommy.” Frank pulls his hand out of her Willow’s and gives her a pout.
“Sorry, sweetie.” She bends over and kisses at his knuckles. That’s when the door opens; when she’s bent over, butt in the air, making little kissy noises. Fabulous. She straightens and gives her neighbor a big, beaming smile. He’s staring at her like she’s gum on his shoe.
“Um, hi…again. I was just wondering...sweetie, hang on.” Frank is tugging at the tail of her shirt. “
Anyhow, I just wanted to thank you for my sink…Frank, please stop…and wondered if…what?” Frank is pulling at her shirt, stretching the back and chanting, “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy. Who’s that?”
Willow glances up at Liam and is shocked to see what she swears is a smile playing around the edges of his lips. How did she not notice that last time? They’re nicely shaped, the bottom lip just slightly pouty.
She clears her throat. “This is our neighbor, Liam. And we’re here to invite him to dinner as a thank you for fixing our sink.”
“Okay.” Frank straightens up and squares his little shoulders before sticking out his hand. “How are you? I’m Frank.”
Willow sees Liam’s lips quirk before he schools his face back into a serious expression. He leans down and pumps Frank’s hand in a vigorous handshake. “Nice to meet you, Frank.”
“So, what do you say, dinner? We’ve got way too much for just the two of us.” She gestures back down the hall to her door. “We’d love it if you could join us.”
Willow feels her face burn as Liam’s eyes rake over her, trailing from head to toe. Suddenly, she’s acutely aware of her thrift-shop clothes. And is that…? Yes, a stain from dinner on the bottom of her t-shirt. She tries to rub at it inconspicuously. She shifts back and forth from foot to foot wondering if this was such a good idea after all.
“I don’t think so,” he finally answers.
“Oh. Oh, well…okay.” Willow shuffles backward, her hands on Frank’s shoulders as she tries to turn him back down the hall. She wasn’t sure what she expected but she didn’t think he’d turn down a free meal. She’s surprised to find that she’s more disappointed than she expected.
Frank slips out from under her hands and bounces back over to Liam. “Hey, come eat at my house. We can play trucks if you want.”
“No, sweetie. Come on.” Willow tugs on Frank but Liam holds up a hand and drops down into a crouch, eye to eye with Frank. Willow steps back and watches as this guy, who’s never been anything but curt with her, smiles brightly at her son and talks to him like they’re the best of friends.
“You really want me to come over, little man?” Liam asks.
“Yeah, come on.” Frank reaches out and tugs on Liam’s hand.
“Okay,” he glances up at Willow “I’ll be over shortly then.”
“Cool!” With that Frank turns and skips back to their door.
Willow is fiddling with the hem of her shirt. “If you don’t want to, I understand.”
“I said I would. I wouldn’t want to disappoint the boy. Give me a few minutes and I’ll be over.”
“Okay then. See you shortly.” Willow backs down the hallway, stopping in her doorway, glancing inside. Frank is already zooming his truck around the sofa. “See you,” she says again, before slipping inside and closing the door. Her heart is pounding as she leans back against the door. What just happened? Had Frank softened up the tough guy or had that just been a front? Willow chews on the inside of her cheek and glances down at her worn shirt before heading to the bedroom. No harm in looking decent for dinner company, right?
Chapter Four
Liam
Damn, he never could resist a kid. And the kid was adorable, almost as adorable as his mom. Liam rubs his hands over his face and blows out a long, weary sigh. It’s just dinner, he tells himself. It doesn’t mean anything. She’s being friendly, paying him back for fixing her sink. She’s got a great rack. Liam shakes his head to clear the image. He can’t let a banging body and a pretty smile sway his vow to stay the hell away from needy women. All women, really. In his experience, they cause more trouble than they’re worth. Especially the pretty, needy ones. But, he can’t let the kid down. So dinner it is.
Liam heads into the bathroom and splashes his face with water, scrubbing at the tension lines across his forehead before shucking his t-shirt and slipping into a button-up shirt. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone but he didn’t want to go over looking like a complete slob. After his quick beauty routine he steps out into the hall and heads to Willow’s door. He raps sharply on the door and hears Frank yelling and his mom shushing him. He smiles at the sounds but schools his face into his normal bored expression when Willow pulls open the door.
“Hi, come on in.” She steps back and ushers him in with a smile. “Have a seat.”
Liam gives her a quick once-over and notes he’s not the only one who changed for dinner. She’s pulled up her hair into a loose bun and slipped into a little sundress with small, blue flowers dotted over a white background. A row of buttons curves over her breasts and down the length of the front. He has a quick flashing image of ripping open that row of buttons and finding out she’s wearing nothing underneath. He pushes the thought away and shifts quickly around her, heading to the sofa where Frank is sitting with his plastic truck.
“I’ll only be a few minutes,” Willow says over her shoulder as she makes her way to the kitchen. Liam watches the way her skirt sways across the backs of her thighs. Some of her hair has escaped her bun and curls across the sweep of her neck. It looks tender, like it’s inviting someone to take a bite. Shit. Liam stretches his leg out awkwardly as he realizes the fit of his jeans is suddenly tighter. The feeling goes as quickly as it came when Frank bumps his truck over the top of Liam’s feet.
Liam leans over, propping his elbows on his knees, and smiles at the little boy zooming his truck over the carpet and around Liam’s legs. “What you got there, little man?”
“My best truck.” Frank grins proudly and holds the toy up for Liam’s inspection.
Liam takes it from the boy and turns it over in his hands, inspecting it from all angles, making appreciative noises before handing it back to the kid. “That’s a pretty awesome truck there.” Frank grins and climbs onto the sofa beside Liam, pulling his truck up behind him. He settles in and starts babbling at Liam, his entire lispy conversation centered around someone called Firedog, or Marshal, or both. Liam isn’t sure really but he keeps up his part of the chat by nodding.
While the kid is chattering, Liam takes the chance to get a better look around Willow’s apartment. While everything is obviously second-hand, she takes care to keep her place clean and neat. Their few possessions are tidy and organized: books stacked under the small television stand, toys in a small basket in the corner. He sees that Willow has tried to make the place homey, with a plant near the window, which is draped with striped curtains, and colorful pillows stacked on the only chair. There’s a shabby comfortability to the place that Liam likes. The babbling of the preschooler next to him and the delicious smells wafting from the kitchen only add to the scene and Liam finds himself relaxing for the first time in years.
Wait just a second now.
He gives himself a mental shake and gets up from the sofa, heading over to the window and peering down into the small building courtyard. He can’t let himself get comfortable. Can’t let his guard down. Can’t let anyone in. That could be dangerous. The last time he let someone in he’d wound up in the worst situation of his life. He’d have this one meal and be on his way. Willow and her cute kid and delicious-smelling meal and perky ass be damned.
“Dinner’s ready, guys.”
Liam turns to find Willow standing in the doorway to the kitchen, a frilly little apron wrapped around her waist and sweet smile on her face. Is this chick for real? He’d only ever seen a girl in an apron in a porno film. He hopes that isn’t what she has in mind. When the kid jumps down and runs into the kitchen Liam gives himself a mental smack. Of course she’s not trying to seduce him. Her kid’s running around and maybe some chicks really do wear aprons. And maybe this will turn out to be the longest meal of his life. Liam takes a deep breath and follows Willow into the kitchen.
The small table is set for dinner and the smell is incredible. This girl can cook. Frank jumps into a chair with a little seat attached to it and Liam slides into the spot next to him, checking out the spread on the table. Liam didn’t think meatloaf could look appealing but
hers is nicely browned and arranged in slices across a tray, sauce ladled over the top. A bowl of fluffy potatoes dotted with butter and whole green beans are on offer too. And topping it off, a basket of what look like homemade rolls emit a delicious waft of yeasty steam when Willow pulls the napkin off the top.
“Damn girl! Where did you learn to cook?”
She laughs as he begins to eat as if his life depends on it. He wants to be polite, but once he’s had a taste of everything, the last thing he wants to do is stop.
“My grandma taught me.”
“Not your mom?”
She chokes. “I can’t remember the last time I saw her. She spent most of her time on the road. I used to think of her as always looking for love.”
“Instead of looking after her own kid.”
Shit! This is why I don’t do company or chit-chat.
Liam finds himself regretting coming over and having dinner. This is the reason that he tries to keep to himself. He is crap at small talk and even worse at trying to make people feel better.
Frank sits eating, oblivious to the conversation, but Liam feels bad. Real annoyed at himself for coming over and asking about her mom.
“Sorry.”
“No, it was a long time ago. And you’re right; Harriet never looked after me.”
“What did you say?”
“Oh my mom, she’s called Harriet. She never wanted me to call her Mom. Always by her first name.”
Liam, suddenly lost in his thoughts, was about to say something else, when Frank said, “Okay Willow.”
She grinned at him. “You, my dear, can call me Mom.”
He had thought for a split second that it was too much of a coincidence. But no, Willow’s mom just happened to have the same name as his ex. Although Harriet wasn’t officially his ex. They’d never gotten divorced, and even though she’d changed her name, as far as he was concerned they were merely estranged until he’d figured out what he was going to do with her once he found her.
