by J. Daniels
His expression grew tense. “Is it about you watching her for me? I know I’m asking a lot. You’re here all the time…”
“No. Everything is fine with watching her.”
“The ad for the assistant manager position just went live today. It shouldn’t be much longer.”
“Okay. I mean, it’ll be great when you can cut down on your hours because that’ll mean you get to spend more time with her, but I’m good. We’re good—my kids love being here.”
Nathan visibly relaxed. He pushed his hand through his hair. “Thank God. I think I’d lose my mind if you stopped coming over.”
My stomach tightened.
I knew he was speaking in terms of watching Marley and only that, but still, I couldn’t help it. I smiled up at him, and when he smiled back in that subtle, sleepy way he did after working a long day, I momentarily forgot what we were talking about and just kept smiling.
Nathan had the brownest eyes I’d ever seen and a day’s worth of stubble covering his jaw, which always made men more attractive even when you thought there is no way this guy could get any more attractive, which was something I was beginning to think every time I looked at him. His lips were full and his hair was a little messy now, like he’d just taken a helmet off. I began to wonder what he would look like playing football.
“You were going to talk to me about something?” he probed after only a second or two, I hoped.
How long was I staring?
I cleared my throat. “Yes, I…um…” I slid even closer, not wanting Olivia to hear. “If I’m overstepping by asking about this, please tell me. It won’t hurt my feelings.”
His brows furrowed. “Okay.”
“You don’t have any pictures up anywhere of your wife. Is there a reason for that?” The words left my mouth in a one-breath rush. I basically vomited them all over Nathan. And when he reacted by setting his glasses on the counter and rubbing harshly at his face with both hands, I panicked and attempted to backpedal.
“I’m sorry. I’m only asking because…Well, I shouldn’t even be asking. It’s not any of my business. I wasn’t, like, looking for photos. It was just something I noticed and I didn’t know what I should do if Marley were to ask me about her—”
His gaze snapped to mine. “Has she?”
“No.” I quickly shook my head. “No, not yet.”
Nathan sighed and looked down at the counter, then slid his glasses back into place.
“She probably won’t, and that’s my fault,” he revealed, shame lowering his voice. He stepped away, crossing the room and pausing at the fridge to peer back at me. “You coming?”
“Yep,” I answered immediately, my feet shifting fast.
I had no idea where we were going or why Nathan wanted me to follow him, but it didn’t matter and I didn’t ask. I ascended the stairs right behind him.
There were five rooms on the second floor, two of which I’d been inside. The other three remained closed. I had assumed they were all bedrooms.
“You said you’re friends with Tori and them, so I’m sure you know what happened to my wife,” Nathan said, passing the bathroom and Marley’s nursery. “Did one of them tell you?”
“They mentioned how she died, yes.”
“I was upset at first, of course—my wife was dead. I found her. Then, almost immediately, I got really fucking angry.” He stopped at one of the closed doors.
I felt like I couldn’t breathe. “You found her?”
Nathan looked down at me, hand on the knob, not turning.
“I didn’t know that,” I quickly said. “I really don’t know much about what happened…hardly anything. I—”
“She took a bottle of pills while I was at work. I found her in the bathroom.”
Breath left my body. I suddenly felt dizzy.
“God, Nathan, I’m so sorry.” Instinctually, I reached out and wrapped my hand around his wrist, nearly touching his hand, but then I second-guessed my action and swiftly pulled back. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”
His eyes narrowed slightly and his gaze intensified, as if he were examining me. Then he looked away and pushed the door open, stepping inside the room. I followed behind him.
It was a bedroom, although I could barely see the bed. Boxes were everywhere—on the floor, covering the bare mattress, stacked high beside the dresser. None of them labeled and all of them overflowing.
“Like I said, I got angry after Sadie died. This is all her stuff. There are pictures in one of these boxes.” Nathan rubbed at his neck, a short, deep chuckle leaving him. “I think I knew I didn’t have any fucking right being mad at her, and that’s why I kept everything instead of getting rid of it. Even her clothes.” He gestured at a box with a shirtsleeve hanging out over the side. “I kept everything. I shut it up in here so I wouldn’t have to look at it.”
I moved beside him, looked around the room once more, and then stared at his profile, waiting. I knew he had more to tell me. He didn’t make me wait long.
“She never told me she was depressed,” he shared. “I didn’t even know she was taking medication until I found the empty bottle. Apparently, she started going to a therapist right after Marley was born. I was angry with her for not telling me.”
“Are you still angry with her?”
“No,” he answered immediately, meeting my gaze.
Relief filled me, not just for Marley but for Nathan as well. I didn’t know much about depression, or mental illness for that matter, but I did know one thing. And I needed to make sure he knew it too.
“I think there’s this stigma attached to depression, where the person can feel ashamed or embarrassed, and maybe that’s why they suffer alone. Not that they should feel that way. They just do.”
“She tried to tell me.” His voice grew quiet. “In a way, she did. I just didn’t listen to her.” His jaw twitched, as if he was clenching his teeth or grinding them. He looked out at the boxes again. “I didn’t realize it at first. I know now. I’ve known, and this shit is still in here. I’ve avoided everything because I’m terrified to deal with it. I don’t know how to deal with it.”
His vulnerability drew me nearer. I stepped closer, fingers knotting together at my stomach so I wouldn’t reach out. The urge to hold on to him again overwhelmed me, but I didn’t know if I could do that. I didn’t know if I should. I considered us friends at this point. Or at the very least friendly. If I needed comfort and Nathan offered it, I wouldn’t think it was strange or wrong. So why was I holding back with him? I shouldn’t. Still, I did. I kept hesitating. But I wouldn’t stand there and remain silent. I knew how I felt about this, and I wanted him to know it too.
“You’re dealing with it now, right? You’re changing your schedule so you can spend more time with Marley—”
“After avoiding her for most of her life,” he interrupted. Our eyes met. “I checked out, Jenna. You see how much I’m gone—I’ve done that for nearly two years.”
“There’s no rule book on how you should grieve, Nathan. You did it the right way for you.”
“How was this the right way?”
“You made sure Marley was taken care of. She had your parents, right? She’s a very loved little girl. I can tell. You cared enough to make sure she was getting that when not all fathers go to those lengths. Some don’t even ask about their kids. I understand being angry or ashamed about how long you took to get here, but you’re here now. And that’s going to be what matters to Marley.”
Nathan’s chest heaved with slow, heavy breaths. He didn’t speak, and I wondered if he was waiting for more, for something else to reassure him. I thought about his humiliation when I asked about the pictures, about the boxes still being in here. How he couldn’t answer every question I had about Marley yet.
I knew what he was waiting for.
I quit fighting and second-guessing and finally reached out, squeezing that same spot on his wrist I’d touched before.
“You’re not too late. Not for any of this,
” I said.
He blinked hard after I spoke, dropping his head.
“I promise, Nathan. You aren’t.”
“I want that to be true,” he nearly whispered.
“I know. And that’s another thing that’s going to matter. Not all fathers would be worried they’d missed their chance.”
Nathan looked at me then. His eyes searched my face. “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”
I swallowed hard. I didn’t want to talk about Derek, not now. This wasn’t about him. So I pulled my hand back and shrugged, playing it down.
“I don’t know what to tell Marley about Sadie.” His voice was pained. “If she asks about her, what am I supposed to say?”
“You could tell her how much Sadie loved her,” I suggested. “And you could always share your memories. I think Marley would love to hear anything you want to share.”
His throat rolled with a swallow. He suddenly looked overwhelmed with worry. “Yeah, but what about…you know, what happened. What am I supposed to say about that?”
“Nathan, I think you’ll know when it’s the right time to talk to Marley about that. And I also think you’ll know exactly what to say. But if you don’t, there’s always help. You could go see a therapist together. There’s grief counseling for families. You and Marley…you share this loss. This is something you can help each other get through.”
He looked away, silent for a moment, then met my eyes again. “Do you think she remembers her mom?”
“How old was she when…?”
“Two months.”
“I don’t.” I paused, shaking my head. God, she was so young. “I really don’t know. I’d like to think she does.”
“Yeah…me too.” Nathan smiled weakly and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Thank you for saying all of that. I needed to hear it.”
“You don’t need to thank me.”
“Still…” He seemed to think carefully about his next words, dropping his arm. “Why do I always feel better after talking to you?”
I smiled softly. That was nice to hear. “Well, we’re usually talking about Marley, so…”
“Is that it?” he asked.
Nathan stepped away, peering back at me briefly before he put his focus on one of the boxes on the floor in front of the bed. He began to rifle through it.
I willed my fast-beating heart to slow.
Was that it? It was, right? Before he asked that question I would’ve thought yes, without a doubt. But now, if he was questioning it, I wasn’t sure how to answer.
“I don’t know what to do with some of this stuff,” he said, moving on to the next box. “Like her clothes? What do I do with them?”
“You could donate them,” I suggested. “I think you’ll want to keep some of her things for Marley for when she gets older. Or you could keep everything and let her decide what she wants. I don’t think there’s a wrong way to do this.”
Nathan nodded lightly, considering that. He shifted two more boxes out of the way, flipped back the flap of another, and then heaved it off the floor.
“Here,” he said, returning to my side. He held the box at waist level and plucked a framed picture out of it, holding it out for me to take.
It was a photo from their wedding.
Nathan stood behind Sadie on a large dance floor, his arms around her waist and his smile half hidden as he spoke in her ear. A man held a microphone a few feet away. His toast must’ve included a joke or two. Sadie was caught mid-laugh by the photographer.
“Oh my God.” I brought my hand up to my mouth and smiled against my fingers as I studied the picture. “Marley looks just like her. Wow.” Same hair. Same smile. Eyes that sparkled the prettiest blue. I looked up at Nathan. “She’s beautiful.”
Nathan took the frame from me when I held it out and studied it for a moment before placing it back in the box. He tipped his head toward the door, and I took the cue.
“I’ll start on the rest of the boxes tomorrow,” he shared, following me out into the hallway.
We were nearly at the stairs when soft crying stopped us both.
“Shit,” he whispered.
“It’s okay.” I pushed the nursery door open and moved quickly to the crib.
I could see clearly with help from the hallway light and the glow from the moon shining through the window. Marley was on her knees, gripping the rails and peering between them. Tears wet her cheeks.
I scooped her up and brought her against my chest, where she rubbed her face against my shirt. I patted her back and hummed softly, knowing how to calm her since I’d done it several times before. When I turned my head, I saw Nathan watching us from the doorway.
“Come here,” I whispered, waving Nathan into the room. Marley was already settling down again. He set the box next to the changing table and got beside me. “She’s almost asleep.” I shifted Marley off my chest and went to pass her over, but Nathan took a step back. I fought a smile. “Take her. Here.”
“What are you doing?” he whispered back.
“I’m giving her to you so you can put her to sleep.”
“But you’re doing such a good job with it.” He gestured at his daughter. “And look at her. She likes you.”
I cocked my head.
“You do it. She’s going to start screaming if you give her to me, Jenna.”
“I don’t think she will. And I need to go use the bathroom anyway…”
His gaze hardened immediately. “Oh my God. Liar.”
I dropped my head and laughed quietly into my shoulder. Nathan smiled.
“I’ll be right here. Come on,” I encouraged, stepping beside the rocking chair. “Sit down. I’ll pass her to you.”
Hands gripping his hips, he stared at me for another breath before he finally caved and stepped forward, mumbling incoherent words of protest.
“Fine. You want to see a kid freak out in two seconds?” Nathan took a seat in the chair and gathered Marley against his chest when I bent down and handed her over. He froze stiff when she stirred, then glared up at me with an unmistakable I told you so expression.
“Rock her,” I suggested. “And rub her back. She likes that.”
Keeping his eyes on me, Nathan pitched forward slowly, gaining momentum. His back remained rigid against the wood.
I whispered in his ear, “They can sense fear. Relax.”
“How am I supposed to relax? Look at her.”
On cue, Marley squirmed and stretched her legs like she wanted to stand. She was waking up.
I put my hand on top of Nathan’s and coaxed him to rub her back. My other hand gripped the chair and rocked it.
“You’re too nervous right now. If you calm down, she’ll calm down.”
Nathan cursed under his breath. He dropped his head back against the wood and forced his breaths to slow, an action that required a lot of effort, I could tell. We rocked together. My hand remained on top of his, moving us in gentle circles. When Marley cooed and snuggled closer, his gaze snapped to mine.
I grinned and whispered, “See?” I stepped back. “Keep going.”
Nathan stared at the top of Marley’s head as he rocked her. It was as if he was witnessing something he’d never seen before. I watched them from the doorway as minutes passed.
I knew she was asleep now. And I wasn’t sure if Nathan had any intention of putting Marley in her crib anytime soon, but I wasn’t going to suggest it. They were both more than content where they were.
And God, it was such a beautiful moment.
“I’m going to go,” I said quietly.
Honestly, I could’ve kept watching them, they were so sweet together, but it was getting really late. If Olivia wasn’t already passed out on the couch, I was sure she was close to it.
Nathan looked over at me and nodded. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I turned and moved out into the hallway.
“Hey, Jenna?”
When I filled the doorway again, he spoke.
<
br /> “Tell Olivia…Monopoly only and I’m cutthroat at it, yes to the campfires, and what kind of a monster doesn’t like s’mores?”
I smiled so big my cheeks hurt.
He smiled back, and then he offered a quiet, “Good night,” before he put his attention on the little girl in his arms.
Chapter Six
NATHAN
Seated at my desk, I glared at the weekly food order I needed to review while attempting to ignore lyrics to a song I swore was playing on repeat today. Jesus Christ, this had to have been the twentieth time I’d heard it. Did this station have it out for me or something? What the fuck was going on?
Not that I hated this song. It was all right. And to be honest, up until very, very recently, it wouldn’t have bothered me hearing it this much. I would’ve been able to block it out. I never paid much attention to the music while I was here. I was too busy. But today? Today I was having major difficulty keeping my focus. Fuck this song “Closer” and whoever the hell was singing it. This dipshit wasn’t doing me any favors. I didn’t need any reminders about shoulder tattoos.
Recently I had become very aware of them.
I adjusted my glasses and kept reading. I was almost ready to sign off on this. Then I could send over the order and move on to something else. When I was halfway down the page, marking a reminder to myself, the chorus started playing again.
My pencil hit the desk. I closed my eyes and groaned, fingers digging into my temples. I was contemplating tearing the speaker off the wall and cutting the wires when my office door swung open.
Tori rushed inside, face contorted in rage. She pushed the door closed behind her, then stormed forward, looking ready to tear my head off.
“Seriously, Nate? You didn’t even think to consider me? What the hell?” She stopped on the other side of the desk, stuck her hands on her hips, and glared. “I’m offended.”
I kept rubbing my temples. “Care to fill me in?” I asked dryly, glancing up at her. “I’m not really in the mood to guess what you’re talking about.”
“The assistant manager position. I saw the ad.”
“And?”
Her mouth dropped open. I watched her attitude slip away as her hands fell from her hips.
