Читать книгу A Deliberate Father - Kate Kelly, Kate Kelly - Страница 9

“YOU’RE LEAVING ALL THOSE clothes here?” Alex asked as he stared into Jordan’s closet.

Trying to ignore his headache, Jordan zipped up the suitcase. “I’m only going to be forty minutes away. I’ll be dropping in from time to time.”

He’d arrived home last night in a black mood to find Alex waiting for him with a bottle of Scotch to celebrate their first joint business venture. As he watched his friend shove his clothes to one end of the closet and start hanging up his own suits, he tried to recall how he’d allowed Alex to convince him to sublet his condo. Alex insisted he was doing him a favor by taking the place off his hands for the next few months, but Jordan had seen him working a deal too many times not to know when he’d been played. Which was exactly why he wanted Alex as a business partner; the guy knew how to work the angles. He wasn’t sure how he felt about him moving in on his personal turf, though.

“The sooner you clear out the riffraff, the sooner we sell, and you can move back here.” Alex hummed as he hung up one of his suits. “It’s a good idea for you to move in. Sounds like you have a lot of house cleaning to do.”

Jordan scooped up an armload of books he’d selected a couple days ago and stacked them in an empty box. “You’re working with a real-estate agent to get the house listed, right? And coming up with our own list of potential clients, as well?”

“I am, but you’d get a higher price if the house showed a profit. It’s the live-in caretaker who’s the worst. She either has to go or start paying market rent.”

Jordan’s queasiness spiked. Not only was he going to live on Dunstan Lane to monitor the situation and the repairs, but he had to find a way to get rid of Nell and her kids. Yeah, he was really looking forward to the next few months.

“Just keep your eye on the ball,” Alex cautioned. “In the past year alone there were three businesses we could have bought into if we’d had the capital. Selling the house is going to make it possible for us to branch out on our own. Don’t forget that.”

“Not going to happen.” Not after he’d worked so hard to get this far. He was often accused of being too focused, but without backup, he couldn’t afford to relax. The consquences were immediate, sometimes permanent. He’d moved on from his poverty-stricken childhood. The only direction he planned to travel now was up—after selling the house.

“Good. So, any chance Sandra will show up at your door?”

“No.” Jordan stacked a few more books in the box.

“I thought things were heating up between you.”

“They’re not.” And he didn’t understand why. Logically, Sandra was the perfect woman for him. She was a consultant at the same firm as him and Alex, but worked in marketing, while he was a turn-around consultant. Often they worked on the same account. Jordan went in first, assessed the company’s problems, looked for ways to improve efficiency and cut costs and helped the owners write a new business plan. Sandra was all about strengthening the clients’ brand, keeping them in front of their intended audience.

They worked well together, enjoyed each other’s company, and had the same drive for successs. If that wasn’t enough, she was a beautiful woman, and she’d let him know she wouldn’t mind if they spent more time together outside office hours. It should have added up to the perfect relationship. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly what else he needed, but something held him back from committing to her. It made him uneasy to think about it, so he tried not to. In any case, he wasn’t ready to get involved in anything serious at this point in his life. He had business to attend to.

“She’s smart, she’s foxy and she wants what you want. Money, success and all the trimmings. You’re nuts, man. Unless you’ve been holding out on me. Should I expect any other girlfriends showing up at the door?”

“No.” Jordan stalked into the bathroom to escape Alex’s cheerful tone. Bad enought the guy was moving onto his turf while he was stuck at the old Victorian, now he was angling for his woman, too.

WHEN JORDAN DROVE UP to the side entrance of the Victorian two hours later, dark clouds scudded across the sky, threatening more rain. Everything looked sodden, even the closed-up sunflower that peeked around the corner of the building.

One of Nell’s projects likely; she seemed like the sunflower type. She’d managed to skinny out of showing him the bedsit yesterday when Mrs. Trembley had started thumping on the second-story floor with her cane. The elderly tenant declared she’d been waiting hours to meet him and wasn’t willing to wait a minute longer. He’d been polite but distant and had cut the interview short, having had a bellyful of 879 Dunstan Lane by then. He couldn’t wait to get back to his condo where he didn’t know his next-door neighbors. Didn’t have to know them, didn’t care to know them. No clutter, no fuss. Just the way he liked it. Except with Alex living there now, the place didn’t feel like his anymore. He’d forgotten how lousy it felt not to know where you belonged.

Using the key Nell had given him yesterday, he opened the outside door to the room that was to be his home for however long it took to sell the house. At least the bedsit had its own private entrance. The other tenants shared an inside hallway and staircase, but he could come and go without having to talk to anyone.

He sighed; there wasn’t enough space to breathe, let alone live inside the room. Everything looked too small and drab—the bathroom wedged in one corner, the tiny kitchenette strung along the back wall. Worse, all the complaining in the world wasn’t going to change the fact that he’d elected to stay here.

He kicked a chrome, sixties-style kitchen chair that didn’t look as if it would hold his weight. Okay, he ate out more nights than not, so the kitchen wasn’t a big deal. And as long as he had lots of hot water and good pressure, he could handle banging his elbows against the sides of the shower. The bed, a lumpy couch that pulled out into a double—or so Nell had assured him—didn’t begin to pass muster. He’d have to buy a new mattress. No telling what was living in this one.

He dropped his suitcases in front of the only closet as water pipes screeched overhead. He shuddered and shoved open a window. The room smelled of damp clothes and disinfectant; it needed a good scrubbing. That was a caretaker’s job, right?

His mood brightened until he remembered he had to tell Nell about the rent increases. With the expense of raising two small children, he imagined paying a higher rent was going to put a serious dent in her budget. With that in mind, he’d decided to hold off for a couple more weeks before tackling the issue of her caretaker position. It didn’t make sense to keep her on staff when all he had to do was hire a tradesman from time to time to do repairs. Eventually, he’d have to let her go.

Best-case scenario, he’d come up with a solution before he had to fire her. He had a lot of contacts and planned to start looking for a better job for her as soon as he found out what skills she had to offer. Who could resist more money and a nicer place to live? He knew at least two people who owned newly renovated apartment buildings. One of them owed him big-time.

“Anyone home?” A quick rap of knuckles, and the outside door popped open. “Sorry to barge in. It’s started raining again.” A gorgeous redhead burst into the room, followed by a small girl who hung back in the doorway.

The leggy redhead thrust a bouquet of flowers toward him. “Welcome. I’m Melody from 2B. Close the door, Lacey. You’re letting the rain in.” She strode over to the kitchen and started going through cupboards as if she lived there. “No vase. I was afraid of that. I’ll run upstairs and get one.”

She dashed for the door. “Oh, this is Lacey. Lacey, this is…I’m sorry. I’ve forgotten your name. Jason? Justin?”

Melody from 2B smiled, and the day brightened. “I’m, ah…Jordan Tanner.” Way to go, forgetting his own name. “Nice to meet you.” He shook her hand. “And, thanks.” He held up the flowers grasped in his other hand.

“Nell didn’t mention you were so good-looking. I swear that woman needs to get…” She stopped, sparing a sideways glance at the little girl. “Lacey, entertain the gentleman. And take off that wet coat. Nell will kill me if you catch a cold. I’ll be right back.” When the redheaded vision whirled out of the room, Jordan stared at the child who looked small enough to fold up and put in his pocket. She had her mother’s big green eyes, but her curls were fair instead of Nell’s dark hair.

Lacey took off her wet raincoat and carefully hung it over the back of a chair. Looking like a little pink puff ball, topped with frothy blond curls, she smoothed her hands over her pink leotard and adjusted the feathery thing around her neck.

“Hello, Mr. Jordan. It’s nice to meet you.” Jordan couldn’t help smiling as he shook her tiny hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, too, Lacey. Are you a ballerina?”

“Yes. Would you like me to dance?”

“Maybe we should go find Melody first.” He knew squat about kids except they came with a ton of rules. What he did know was Nell had almost killed him yesterday when he’d tried to talk to Jacob. No doubt she’d go ballistic if she found him alone with her precious Lacey.

“Melody will be right back. She’s on the phone.” Lacey dropped a deep curtsy.

“How do you know that?”

When Lacey pointed at the ceiling, Jordan grimaced at the low murmur of someone talking upstairs. Another wave of wet wool, and—what was that smell, mold?—hit him. It felt as though he were light-years, not mere miles, from his condo.

“Look, I’m a kitty cat.”

Lacey hopped and twirled around the room. She didn’t remotely remind him of a cat, but she looked so earnest and serious, he smiled encouragement whenever she glanced his way. Which was often. After a few minutes of watching her twirl on one spot, Jordan started to worry. If memory served him right, kids spewed from far less agitation.

“Lacey? Maybe you better—”

Lacey came to an abrupt halt and flung herself into a heap on the floor. Her head drooped down to her chest. She didn’t make a sound.

“Um…that was an incredible dance. Thank you.” He clapped, hoping the blond curls would stir.

After waiting for a couple of minutes, he reached down to her limp body and wrapped his hand around her amazingly tiny arm. “Are you all right? Did you hurt yourself?”

Like a firecracker, she crackled and fizzed to life as she shot to her feet. “Did I scare ya?” Winding her tiny body around one of his legs, she beamed up at him. Her damp curls framed her sweet, round baby face. Her eyes were so alive with childish delight, Jordan felt a twinge. A twinge of what, he wasn’t sure. Maybe a long forgotten memory from his own childhood. Surely there had been good days before he understood his life was never going to be like the other kids. He shoved the past down, out of sight where it belonged.

He smiled at Lacey, gently tried to shake her off. She giggled and wound her arms tighter around his leg. He started to shove his hands in his jean pockets but ended up sticking them under his armpits.

“Maybe you want to let go of my leg.”

She continued to beam at him as if he’d invented the sun. “Why?”

“Well.” He cleared his throat. “We just met, and it’s not a good idea to…with people you’ve just met it’s maybe better…” He had no idea where he was going with the sentence. Lacey twinkled up at him.

“I have to go to the washroom.” Genius solution. As they grinned at each other, the door banged open.

Nell stood in the doorway, hands on her hips. “What’s going on here?”

Lacey let go of his leg and ran over to wrap herself around Nell’s legs instead. Feeling as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have, Jordan scowled at the twin sets of green eyes staring at him. The indomitable duo. Man, if those two sunk their hooks into some poor, clueless guy, he’d be a goner. Thank God he wasn’t susceptible to that kind of thing.

“I was dancing for Mr. Jordan,” Lacey explained.

“The bunny dance,” Jordan added. “It’s fascinating. Have you seen it?”

A smile slowly spread over Nell’s face. As he watched her body relax against Lacey, he felt as if he’d passed some kind of test. “I think you mean the kitty cat dance. Where’s Melody, Lacey?”

“Here,” Melody called from the doorway. “I got caught on the phone.” She turned to Nell. “I have a four-thirty appointment. I’ll have to take a rain check for dinner. Sorry. Nice to meet you, Jason.”

“Jordan,” he murmured.

She turned back from the door and smiled at him. “I knew that. Oh, here’s the vase. You know, if you’re really nice to these two ladies, maybe they’ll invite you to dinner. I hear their exalted dinner guest bailed.”

A bell rang in the deep recesses of the house. “That’s my four-thirty already. Damn that man, he’s always so needy. Later, all.” Melody slammed out of the room. A moment later, Jordan heard her talking to a man as they ascended the stairs.

He turned to Nell and raised his eyebrows. “Is this something I should be worried about?” If Melody was a call girl he needed to know. That was the kind of thing that could easily scare off potential buyers. He watched Nell closely, waiting for her reply. He didn’t think she’d outright lie to him, but neither would she hesitate to protect her friend by not telling the entire truth.

“Do you like curry?” Lacey had crept back to his side and slid her hand into his.

“Um…” He shot a look at Nell, but her face was blank. No help there. “Sure. What kind of curry?”

“Chicken.”

“Did someone say curry? I adore curry, especially, chicken curry.” Mrs. Trembley stumped into the room on short thick legs that, unfortunately, her bright blue-and-red-plaid shorts didn’t cover. She was followed by a frail-looking older man. Had Nell mentioned anything about Mrs. Trembley having a husband?

Nell’s shoulders drooped for a second before she pasted a smile on and turned to Mrs. Trembley.

“Rodney! You’re here, too. Jordan, this is Rodney. He’s a friend of Mrs. Trembley’s.”

“He’s staying with me for a while. Just until he’s feeling better. Isn’t that right, Rodney?” Jordan winced when Mrs. Trembley poked Rodney in his painfully thin ribs.

Rodney nodded in Jordan’s direction but avoided eye contact. He looked as though he was about to pull his forelock and bend a knee. Jordan looked around the crowded room. His crowded room. He already had tenants of every possible description. Why not throw an English servant into the mix?

“I’m hungry.” Lacey tugged on his hand.

Nell headed for the door. “I’ll have to cook more rice and see what else I have on hand. Come on, Lacey. Jacob’s waiting upstairs.”

It didn’t even occur to her to say no. Amazing. Jordan stepped sideways to block her exit. “Ever hear about takeout?”

“Takeout?” Nell repeated. The room grew suspiciously quiet. “It costs too much. I mean, there’re four of us, two of them. Melody will want to eat once she smells the food, even though she claims she’s bailed. No, it’s okay. I’ll cook more rice, and see what else I can throw together.”

He felt a jolt as he caught her arm just above her wrist to stop her. Their eyes connected for a second, a look of surprise and cautious curiosity passing between them before she pulled away. “I saw an Indian restaurant a few blocks over when I was driving here. I’ll order some food and pick it up while you cook the rice. It’ll be my treat. Sort of a new-landlord get-to-know-you meal. Anything I shouldn’t get?”

“Just make sure all the sauces are mild,” Mrs. Trembley piped up. “Too much spice gives me gas.”

That was a detail he could have done without. When no one else offered any objections to him buying dinner, Jordan shoved the flowers in the vase and splashed some water in it, then snagged his jacket and went outside. He was about to dash to his car when he realized he’d left most of his tenants in his apartment. He turned back, held the door open. “If everyone’s finished in here?”

Mrs. Trembley shuffled out with Rodney following like a faithful dog. Lacey skipped after them, her raincoat draped over her head. Nell stopped at the door, a crease forming between her eyebrows as she frowned up at him.

“I’m sorry you got pulled into this dinner thing. If you want to bail, I’ll tell the crew you had a former engagement. I can scrounge together enough food for everyone. It’s not a problem.”

His tough little caretaker was trying to protect him from his tenants. Unbelievable. Or, he narrowed his eyes, she didn’t want him talking to them for some reason. She’d said it herself, Aunt Beulah hadn’t paid attention to anything unless it directly affected her. God knows what Nell had been up to the past two years; charging for repairs that hadn’t been done. Or for building materials never used, then refunded. There were a number of ways for her to skim extra money off the top. Miss Nellie had been running things her way for too long. She was about to discover what it was like to have someone else in charge.

“As I said, it’ll give me a chance to get to know everyone better. Unless, of course, it’s too much work for you. You didn’t plan on having so many people for supper.” He smiled, waiting to see if she would take the bait and wiggle out of the invitation.

“I can handle it if you can.” She gave him a quick two-finger salute and scooted out the door.

She’d passed with flying colors. He didn’t know whether to be reassured or not as he flipped up his collar against the rain and ran for his car. Dinner at Dunstan Lane. Not what he’d call a hot Saturday-night date, but it was a necessary one. He needed to find out if Miss Nellie was as sweet as she seemed or if she’d been lining her pockets with the monthly operating budget. If there even was a monthly budget. What if Beulah had left Nell a pot of money to use at her discretion? Could she have been that batty?

He climbed into his car and with an unfamiliar weariness, wiped the rain from his face. He also needed to know more about his tenants so he wouldn’t be blindsided by any unsavory details, like an illegal prostitution ring or…at this point, the imagination was the limit.

As a business consultant he was used to not only assessing tangible assets but personalities, as well. He’d have the tenants of Dunstan Lane categorized, lined up and flying straight before the week was over. Buying dinner was a good place to start.

SWEAT TRICKLED DOWN THE MIDDLE of Nell’s back as she whipped around her small kitchen. She’d planned to have a long, hot soak in the bath tonight while Jacob and Lacey watched the movie she’d rented for them, not prepare and serve a meal for six—or seven if Melody showed up. And especially not for Jordan Tanner. She grabbed a stack of plates out of the cupboard and placed them on the small table along with the cutlery and napkins. Water, tea or coffee would have to suffice. She could barely afford to buy juice for the kids let alone wine or beer for guests. She placed the coffeepot under the tap and turned on the water.

For the life of her, she couldn’t understand why she was so stressed about having everyone over for dinner. Mrs. T. had a habit of popping up close to supper time once or twice a week, and Rodney… Nell sighed. Taking on two small children should have been enough for anyone. Melody liked to tease her that she’d taken the role of caretaker to heart. She had to learn how to say no more often.

And now she had Tanner to deal with. Not that he needed her help, but he was a man who had a certain presence. A man who would take up way too much space in her already crowded life.

And wasn’t that a shame?

Three years ago, it might have been a different story. Yeah, right. Who was she kidding? She’d never circulated with the yuppie crowd. She’d always had her hands stuck in the soil or had been cramming in as many lectures as she could after work on landscape design or plant propagation.

Not that she didn’t still have aspirations. She lingered over the word for a minute; it had such a hopeful sound. But Jacob and Lacey’s welfare came first now, which meant her dreams would have to wait. Anyone with half a brain could see Tanner was going places, expensive places. Dunstan Lane was a means to an end for him. For Nell, Dunstan Lane was familiar and secure, a home for her and the kids.

“I think you’ve got enough water, Nell,” Jacob commented from his station by the kitchen doorway.

Startled, Nell pulled the coffeepot from under the stream of water. “Did you make your bed?”

“Yeah. I don’t know why I can’t have a lock on my door. Mrs. T. always snoops around.”

She dumped coffee grinds into the machine and turned it on, the muscles in her neck cranking tighter. “We’ve been over this, Jacob. I need to know I can get into your room in case you hurt yourself.”

“If we bought a lock with two keys, you could have one and go into my room when you want.”

The child drove her nuts with his logic. In the beginning, she’d tried reasoning with him when they disagreed. But she’d soon learned Jacob could outreason anyone, and much to her chagrin, she resorted more often than not to the dreaded because-I-said-so refrain.

“That’s a good point. I’ll think about it.” Another empty phrase that didn’t fool either of them. From the corner of her eye, she watched Jacob drum his fist against the doorjamb.

“Are you upset people are coming for dinner?”

“No.” Rap, rap.

“Do you like Mr. Tanner?”

He rounded one shoulder. “I guess. Do you?”

Nell blew out her breath and leaned against the counter. “I haven’t made up my mind yet.” Truth was there was way too much to like about him. Other than trying to bribe Jacob, he’d been unfailingly kind and courteous. When everyone else had heard the mention of food, they’d lined up at the trough. Tanner, on the other hand, had offered to help by paying for the meal. A meal she wouldn’t have to prepare other than dumping it into serving dishes. Imagine having someone like that to lean on once in a while.

She straightened her spine. No need to get carried away. Tanner was taking advantage of the opportunity to check them out. How long would it take for Mrs. T. to insult him or Rodney to let slip that he’d been staying in the bedsit rent-free? Now that he’d moved in, she’d have to be on guard all the time, and the only way to get rid of him was if the house sold. Lord, she wasn’t ready for any of this. “We probably won’t see too much of him,” she said to Jacob. “He’s a busy man.”

“Yeah.” Jacob started to leave the room but turned back. “Nell?”

Finally they were going to get down to what was bothering her little man. “What is it, sweetie?”

“Dad called. You said to tell you if he did.”

Nell stopped short of slamming the cupboard door shut. The closer Tony got to his parole hearing the more often he phoned. She tried to intercept his calls, but he was their father and her lawyer had cautioned her to treat him with kid gloves until the adoption went through. Especially now, because of the complaints he’d lodged with Child Welfare.

Nell had never understood what her sister had seen in him. Tony had the uncanny ability to know within minutes of meeting someone exactly how to hurt that person the most. But he was careful whom he chose to abuse.

Jacob and Lacey were often sullen and withdrawn after talking to him, and no wonder. The man was poison. The day her sister died, she promised herself she would do whatever was necessary to keep her niece and nephew in her custody. That promise was turning out to be a lot harder to keep than she’d anticipated.

Nell threaded her fingers together as she prepared to pick through the minefield that existed between Jacob and Tony. “How is he?”

Her question was met with a shrug. “He said he wants to see Lacey and me.”

Why? She bit back the word before it popped out. “What did you say?”

“That I’d ask you.” His eyes grew red.

“Oh, honey.” She moved to hug him, but he jerked out of reach. Having been on the receiving end of Tony’s vindictive tirades many times, she knew how deep his words could cut. It hurt that there was nothing she could say to ease Jacob’s pain.

A knock at the door interrupted their conversation. Later, after everyone was gone, she’d try to get Jacob to talk about his father. She grabbed him, gave him a quick hug and a whispered “I love you,” then let him escape into his room while she answered the door.

JORDAN DELIVERED THE CARTONS of food to the kitchen and retreated to the living room when Melody elbowed him out of the way. Guess the smell of food had reached all the way down to her apartment. Whatever her “client” had needed, it hadn’t taken long to satisfy. Jacob had disappeared somewhere, smart fellow, and Lacey was serving Mrs. Trembley watered-down tea in teacups the size of his thumb.

He sat on the opposite end of the couch from Rodney and accepted a thimbleful of tea from Lacey. He’d anticipated this dinner to be more like a meeting, but everything felt way too cozy for his comfort. How was he supposed to calculate assets and ulterior motives when a little girl was serving him tea, for Pete’s sake?

Although Nell’s apparent fatigue had prompted him to offer to buy takeout, he’d realized on the way to the restaurant, it would also earn him brownie points with Nell and get supper over more quickly. He needed to see the books, ask her what the profit margin was, what kind of budget she worked with, and what shape the old house was in.

He wrinkled his nose and studied Rodney. The old man smelled musty, the same moth-eaten stink that was in Jordan’s room. As Jordan started to smile, Rodney smiled in return, giving him a glimpse of the man he used to be. That was why Nell refused to show him the room yesterday; Rodney had been living there. It also explained why he was staying with Mrs. Trembley. With his new insight, Jordan’s mind raced over everything that had happened in the past two days. He’d assumed these were normal people, but he should have known better; normal wasn’t Aunt Beulah’s style. He’d better check the basement and any outbuildings in case Miss Nellie had a whole colony of misfits squirreled away.

Nell peeked into the room. There were dark circles under her eyes, but she kept her tone upbeat. “Dinner is ready. It’s self-serve.”

Jordan’s appetite suddenly disappeared. Nell shouldn’t let people take advantage of her, bringing up two children alone was more than enough responsibility. He could help with that. Not the kids, but the taking advantage part. He was good at maneuvering people around to his point of view. Mrs. Trembley and Rodney wouldn’t know what hit them. As for Melody…

What was he thinking? He was the worst culprit of all. If Alex found a buyer tomorrow, Nell and the kids would have to go or start paying a much higher rent. He’d been working his butt off, hoping for a break since he was fifteen, and inheriting this house was as close as he was going to get.

Okay, maybe his mom’s life would have been better if someone had held out a helping hand. But no one had, at least not in time to save her, and he’d survived. Hell, he’d thrived. Nell and her children would, too. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t try to find a way around the whole mess.

He stood, rolled his head back and forth to ease his aching neck muscles. There was a solution to every problem. He just had to find it.

NELL WEARILY LIFTED HER HEAD from the couch when the door to the apartment creaked open. Tanner had left in his sparkly, expensive car two hours ago. Hopefully, he hadn’t returned already with more questions. She didn’t think he bought the story about Rodney staying with Mrs. T.

Melody slipped into the living room and beamed at her, her hands behind her back. “Guess what I have.”

Nell pulled herself upright. “A magic wand to make Tanner go away?”

“They do sell wands at work. And there’s this guy who comes into the store who’s into magic. I wonder if I—”

“Is that a cold beer?”

“Voilà.” Melody brandished a beer in her direction. “One for both of us. I thought you’d appreciate it after that excruciating supper. I was sitting on pins and needles waiting for Mrs. T. to start one of her tirades. And Jordan is so intense. Amazingly good-looking, but wow, the waves of energy he gives off.” She sat on a padded stool and opened her beer.

Nell took a long, appreciative swallow of hers. “Intense. That’s one way to describe him.”

“And hot,” Melody added.

“I wish he’d go be hot somewhere else.”

Melody wiggled her eyebrows. “He got to you, did he?”

“I’m tired, not dead. I think he even got Mrs. T. worked up. Did you see how much lipstick she layered on? How about you? Tanner do anything for you?” She held her breath, as if Melody’s answer were important. Which was silly, if Melody wanted to dally with Tanner, it wasn’t any of her business.

“He’s not my type.”

“Not mine, either.” Nell took another drink and put the bottle on the coffee table in front of her.

“Things are going to change, Nell. We knew that when Beulah died.”

“I know. I just didn’t expect…Tanner. He’s so take-charge. So focused.”

Melody smiled. “Kind of like the pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it?”

“You think I’m bossy?”

Melody’s smile disappeared. “I’ve watched you fight hard to keep everything on an even keel the past two years. Which is understandable, considering what you and the kids have been through. But you can’t control the entire world. Sometimes you have to go with the flow.”

Nell pleated the bottom edge of her cotton blouse. “You think I should give up without a fight?”

“I think you should give Jordan a chance. Who knows, maybe something good could come out of this.”

“You’re trying to set me up with him.” Nell laughed at the absurd idea.

“All I’m saying is, why does change always have to be a bad thing? Why can’t you have fun with it?”

Nell smiled. Melody was a good-time girl who reminded Nell to laugh when life turned weird. She did silly things like buy them secondhand cocktail dresses and insist they dress up and go out for a drink, if only for an hour. Or slip her delicious romance novels that Nell read late at night instead of how-to books. She discussed Harry Potter for hours with Jacob and bought Lacey’s pink ballet outfit. Over the past two years, she’d slowly filled the hole left from the death of Nell’s sister. She liked that Melody made her look at things differently. Not that she was right about Tanner. Nothing was going to happen there.

“You’re one to talk,” Nell countered. “I have the kids. What’s your excuse for hanging around here instead of going out and having fun?”

“I’m still recovering from Peter What’s-his-name. Talk about a total lack of judgment. I’m not looking at another man until I know for certain he’s the one.”

Nell leaned her chin on her hand. “You think there’s The One for everyone?”

“There is for you.”

She let the comment pass. She didn’t want her fortune told tonight, or any other night. “I think Tanner plans to sell the house.”

“I was afraid of that. Has he said anything definite?”

“No, but he almost had a heart attack when I told him what I was paying for rent. I don’t know what I’m going to do if he raises it. Any other time, I’d suck it up and look for a cheaper apartment, but right now… Tony’s been phoning the kids again. I know he’s up to something. He’s not getting those kids. I don’t care if he is their father. He’s an abusive alcoholic, and Jacob and Lacey are not living with him. Ever.” She gulped back the fear in her throat.

Melody sat beside her and slipped her arm around Nell’s shoulders. “It’s going to be okay. There are far worse things than looking for new digs. And Tanner, sure he’s focused, but I think underneath that polished exterior lives a good man. Tell him about the adoption. A few weeks one way or the other, what difference does it make to him for selling the house? He’ll understand.” She smiled. “After the adoption, we’ll look for a new apartment together. No way am I staying here without you and the kids.”

Nell leaned against her friend for a second before pulling away. Melody was right. They’d survive moving, could maybe even afford a nicer place with Melody sharing the rent. But not until the children were legally hers. The social worker had emphasized over and over the need to provide a stable home atmosphere. Jacob and Lacey had been in this apartment for two years now, half of Lacey’s life. Moving was bound to stir up some of the anxieties they’d worked hard to leave behind. Jacob had already reverted to hiding in his tent, although he’d dismantled it before people came for dinner.

She picked up her bottle and drank the last of her beer. At the very least, she’d try to convince Tanner to delay the sale of the house. Maybe Melody was right. Maybe he’d understand.