Читать книгу The Other Twin - Nan Dixon - Страница 12
ОглавлениеMAYBE 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.
Another muffled scream came from next door. His heart hammered against his ribs.
Rushing down the hall, he tried Cheryl’s door. Locked. He pounded on it. “Open up!”
His only answer was another scream.
He raced back to his apartment and grabbed his keys, searching for the carriage house master key. No wonder his brother labeled everything, not that letters would have made any sense right now.
He shoved key after key into the lock. Finally one turned. He pushed on the stubborn door, promising he would fix it if everyone was okay.
Another cry broke out. He honed in on the sound and sprinted down the hall.
“You’re safe. You’re all right,” he heard Cheryl murmuring. He burst into the kids’ bedroom.
Cheryl jumped, his daughter in her arms. “What?”
“I heard screaming.” He searched the room for an intruder.
Fear filled Cheryl’s eyes. Josh stared at him like he was the burglar. His daughter shrieked again.
Nathan drew in a breath. “I thought someone had broken in.”
“You did.” Cheryl glared at him, handing him the girl.
“What? No!” He held up his hands and stumbled back.
“Take her,” Cheryl whispered. “Comfort her.”
“Shush now.” He took the kid and ran his hand hesitantly down her back She trembled like a bird cornered by a cat. What had made her scream? “Hush.”
Jesus. Now what?
Cheryl tucked Josh back into bed. “Go back to sleep, honey.”
Nathan bounced Isabella a little. Didn’t people do that with babies? But his daughter was four.
Her arms wrapped around his neck and her muscles softened. How could she trust him? He was a screw-up.
“I think she’s asleep.” He tried to hand her to Cheryl.
She shifted away. “Put her in bed.”
The sheets were pulled back, so he set her in the middle of her pillow. Isabella curled into a ball and whimpered.
“Rub her back.” Irritation filled Cheryl’s voice.
He did and Isabella relaxed under his hand. His tension eased with each stroke. Pulling up the covers, he tucked the sheets into the edge of the bed. His mom had done that. As kids, he and Daniel pretended they were caterpillars, tucked in a cocoon.
After joining Cheryl in the hall, he whispered, “What the hell was that?”
“Night terrors.” Cheryl put her fists on her hips. “How did you get into my apartment?”
“I heard screaming. You didn’t answer the door,” he shot back. “I used the master key.”
Her lip trembled. “Don’t you ever—ever—use that key again.”
He backed away. “Got it.”
There went his idea that they could work together, that she’d take on the role of nanny. That idea had come with his third beer.
Cheryl sniffed. “You’ve been drinking.” She said it like he was a serial killer.
“A couple of beers.” No big deal.
“Get your act together. You have a daughter depending on you.” She stalked down the hall to the kitchen and then pointed at the open door. “You didn’t even close the door!”
“I was worried.” How could he have known about night terrors?
“Out. Pick up Isabella by eight.”
Damn. Who would watch the kid tomorrow?
* * *
CHERYL TAPPED ON the top bunk. “Last call for breakfast.”
Both kids were exhausted from Isabella’s nightmare. Cheryl was tired, too. But the day wouldn’t wait.
She pulled back Isabella’s bedding and caught a whiff of urine. Great. “Time to get up, Isabella.”
She tugged off the little girl’s wet bottoms and led her to the bathroom.
Last night she’d washed Isabella’s meager laundry. When the girl was finished in the bathroom, Cheryl helped her put on the least stained clothes she’d found.
“Josh.” She shook his shoulder. “Unless you want to miss the camp bus, you need to move.”
He pushed off the covers, hung over the railing and dropped to the floor. “What’s that smell?” He pretended to choke, then headed for the bathroom, still gagging.
“Come on, Isabella.” She headed to the kitchen and the silent girl followed. She would deal with the sheets later.
She set her in Josh’s old booster chair and poured a bowl of cereal. By the time she was buttering toast, Josh joined them.
“That’s my chair,” he complained.
“And you’re too big for it.”
He took his toast to the table and started eating.
Cheryl quickly pulled his lunch together. Sandwich, apple, carrot sticks and a cookie.
“Can I have three cookies?” He turned those big brown eyes at her.
“Three? That’s too many,” she said.
“My friends like your cookies.”
“You’re giving them away?”
“I share.”
Great. Did the other parents know the kids were trading food? It was only for another week, so she tucked two more cookies into the bag.
Sipping her tea, she watched the kids finish their breakfasts. Josh had forgotten his resentment and chatted on and on. He even gave Isabella the last piece of toast.
The girl didn’t speak but she nodded every now and then. What would Nathan do with Isabella today? Not Cheryl’s concern.
At exactly seven thirty, the construction crew arrived. They were better than an alarm clock. Low voices murmured on the ground floor. She could measure the restaurant’s progress with each hammer strike and screech of the saw.
She wanted to work in Abby’s new restaurant, but she hadn’t gathered the courage to ask her boss. She’d hoped to take more classes, but that would bury her in debt.
“Brush your teeth,” she told the kids. Nathan should be here soon.
Right on time, she heard someone climbing the outside steps followed by a knock on the door.
She threw the dead bolt.
Nathan hadn’t shaved. His eyes were bloodshot. Had he been drinking all night?
Crossing her arms, she stepped back as far as she could to let him in.
“Did she have any more problems sleeping?” he asked.
“She wet the bed. You should buy Pull-Ups.”
He shoved his hand through his hair. “What the hell is a Pull-Up?”
“They’re a nighttime diaper,” she explained with a sigh. “Maybe Isabella wasn’t used to the bed.” Or to her father.
“Crap. I don’t have a clue what I’m doing.” He held out a hand. “Did you think about taking care of her?”
“I can’t.” She wasn’t taking on his responsibilities when she had so many of her own. “You’ll learn.”
His shoulders slumped.
“Josh,” she called, “we have to go.”
Nathan caught her hand. At his touch, an unwanted zing went through her body. She tried to pull away, but he hung on.
“I need help. I need... I don’t even know.” He squeezed her fingers. “Can you at least help me shop? Please?”
His brown eyes were darker than her son’s. Darker than Brad’s. At the memory of Brad’s laughing eyes, she yanked her hand away. “Josh, hurry.”
The kids came to the door. Isabella wrapped her arm around Cheryl’s leg, hiding from Nathan. He reached down, but the girl scuttled back.
“It’s okay.” Cheryl picked her up and handed her to Nathan.
“Please help me shop for her. I’ll...pay you. Twenty bucks an hour. For...” His voice trailed off.
He couldn’t remember his own daughter’s name? “Isabella.” She didn’t have time to get involved, but her heart ached for the frightened girl.
“Fine. You don’t have to pay me,” she said. “Just...buy me and Josh dinner.”
* * *
NATHAN PULLED CHERYL’S car in front of his parents’ house. Begging to use her car again hadn’t been fun.
Mom had agreed to watch Isabella during the day. At least until he found day care or his parents left for Pop’s monthly cancer treatments in Texas. He wanted to turn the whole mess over to someone more capable than him, but no one volunteered.
“We’re at grandma’s.” He unbuckled Isabella. She held up her arms and latched onto him like a monkey. His heart stuttered. He stroked her hair. “You’ll have fun.”
He wasn’t sure if he believed his lies. Fake it until you make it, right? That had been his motto in school. That or “Screw it. I don’t understand, so why bother?”
This time not bothering wasn’t an option.
“Come on, kid.” He hoisted her higher onto his hip. “You remember grandma from yesterday?”
She nodded.
Mom met them at the door. “Here you are. We’re going to have fun today.”
Isabella clung to his neck. “I’ve got to work, kiddo.” He’d already checked in with Jed, but he needed to get back to the site.
“Come on, honey.” Mom pried Isabella off his shoulders and hugged her.
“You sure you won’t reconsider having her live here?” he asked.
Mom shot him a look. “What time will you be back?”
“Five thirty.” He took in a deep breath. “Cheryl’s helping me shop.”
Mom set Isabella down. “We’ll see you then.”
He ruffled the kid’s hair. “See you later.”
Isabella’s face crumpled.
He knelt down to her level. “Tonight we’ll shop for your bed.”
She nodded but didn’t smile. Hell, he couldn’t remember ever seeing her smile. Josh was always grinning or laughing. How did Cheryl do it? Could Cheryl get the little girl to smile?
He pushed his daughter out of his head as he drove back to Fitzgerald House. He needed to concentrate on Abby’s restaurant. He arrived in time to check the lumber order. The numbers didn’t dance and it looked like the right amount of wood. He signed off, then he and Jed carried it to the staging area. “Let’s build a staircase. My brother should be here soon.”
He could visualize the gorgeous, curved wood staircase winding up to the old hayloft.
“Are we ready?” Daniel walked in, strapping on his tool belt.
“Yeah.” He and Daniel tended to fight on job sites, but since they were building something this technical, he wanted his brother’s expertise.
“Why do women always want curved staircases?” Jed asked as they shaped the semicircular walls.
“To make us crazy.” Daniel hammered in another two-by-six.
“I told Abby it would cost more,” Nathan said.
“That’s never stops a Fitzgerald,” Jed drawled.
It was tough, exacting work. Nathan made the first calculation. Jed verified and Daniel would agree or disagree. There wasn’t much talk, just the screech of the saw, the pounding of a hammer and the creak of the wood. The morning flew by.
“I love the smell of freshly cut wood,” Cheryl announced from the doorway.
Nathan’s gaze snapped over to her.
“Abby was pulled away by a guest.” She held up a tray. “She wanted me to bring over lunch.”
She avoided Nathan’s gaze but a blush dusted her cheeks. A streak of flour decorated her shirt, just under her breast. Nathan wouldn’t mind tidying her up.
He froze. That wasn’t the way to think about the woman who was helping him with his daughter. He couldn’t screw this up.
“What is that?” Cheryl stopped next to the staircase framing.
“We’re building the beam that will anchor the risers.” She frowned, so Nathan added, “The staircase steps.”
“We’ll add the inner core and build in slots for each riser.” For once his words flowed smoothly. “But first we have layers of laminate to glue to ensure the stairs are stable.”
“That’s fascinating.” She reached out to touch the curved plywood.
He shook his head. “Don’t.”
“I can’t wait to see everything come together.” Green sparks gleamed in her brown eyes. She tapped her lip. “We never settled on a time for tonight.”
“Yeah.” He pushed his hat off and scratched his head.
Daniel watched them, glaring.
Nathan hadn’t figured out how to tell his brother about Isabella. It was embarrassing to find out he had a four-year-old kid. His perfect brother would never be in this situation.
Lowering his voice, Nathan asked, “What time are you off?”
“Five thirty.” Cheryl leaned in. She smelled of apples and...cookies.
“Around six then?” He didn’t want to shout that they were making plans.
“That works.” She chewed on her lip. “I’ll see you then.”
Cheryl waved to Daniel and Jed as she left. Daniel stalked up to him. “Got a date?”
Nathan shook his head. “She’s helping me...shop.”
Jed looked at him. “For your kid? Where is she?”
Daniel choked on the drink he’d just taken from his water bottle. “Kid?”
“Yeah.” Nathan rolled his shoulders.
“When did this happen?” Daniel’s voice cracked.
“Apparently four years ago.”
“Who’s the mom?” his brother asked. “Anyone I know?”
“A woman from Atlanta.”
“A kid?” Daniel shook his head. “Boy? Girl?”
“Isabella.” The words were running today. “Mom has her right now.”
“I’m an uncle?” Daniel punched Nathan’s arm. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I just found out.” He smacked his hat against his thigh. “The kid’s four and I just found out.”
“That’s screwed up.”
“Yeah.” Appropriate since Nathan was the family screw-up.
“What’s Cheryl helping you with?”
“Everything. Furniture, clothes, stuff.” He grabbed a sandwich and sat on an overturned bucket. “I’m not even sure what I need.”
“Just don’t mess with Cheryl.” Daniel crossed his arms, his muscles bulging. “She’s had a rough life.”
“I’m won’t.” Nathan’s teeth ground together. Of course Daniel would think the worst of him. “I don’t know squat about kids. That’s why she’s helping me.”
Daniel pointed with his sandwich. “Make sure you keep it that way.”
As if he didn’t have enough problems, now his brother was threatening him. He planned to keep his hands to himself.
Once Heather was out of treatment, Isabella would leave. His life would be normal again. Or as normal as his life could be.
* * *
“I’M HUNGRY,” JOSH SAID.
Cheryl checked the time. Just after five thirty. She peeled and sliced an apple, setting it in front of Josh. “This should tide you over.”
“I don’t want to go with him.”
“We offered to help.”
Shopping with Nathan wasn’t a good idea. She had to stop letting people take advantage of her.
But poor Isabella shouldn’t suffer because her dad was a rookie.
Cheryl took a deep breath. She would help Nathan make a home for his little girl. Then she and Nathan could stay away from each other.
Except that he lived next door.
She nibbled on an apple slice and worked on Nathan’s list. Maybe she could hand him the list and send him on his way.
Her thoughts were mean. When she’d arrived in Savannah, so many people had helped her. It was time to pay it forward.
“Why do we have to go with Mr. Nathan and Isabella?” Josh finished off the last apple slice and took the plate to the dishwasher.
“Because Mr. Nathan doesn’t know much about kids. He asked for our help.” She needed to remember this herself.
“But she’s four. How come he needs help?”
“I don’t know.” What mother wouldn’t tell the father of her child that she was pregnant? Maybe Nathan had done something that had stopped her from telling him? He drank a lot, like Levi.
There was a knock. Josh had the door open before she could ask him to wait.
Nathan held Isabella in his arms. His muscles were rigid. Isabella’s shoulders were stiff, too.
She picked up her purse. “Josh, let’s go.”
“Why do I have to come?” Her son pouted. “I’m not getting anything.”
“You’re getting dinner,” she reminded him.
They headed to her car. Josh climbed into his booster seat.
“Oh, shoot.” There was only one seat.
Nathan ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t think.”
Based on the gossip about Nathan around the B and B, that wasn’t unusual. He’d sold drugs in high school; always in trouble but not enough to end up in juvie. He’d even been kicked out of the family business. Dolley, the youngest Fitzgerald sister, laughed about the number of women he’d dated.
“I can ride without a booster.” Josh puffed out his chest. “I don’t use a booster on the bus.”
“This isn’t a bus.” But her son had a point.
They weren’t going far. She chewed her lip. “This is the only time.”
She held out her hand for the keys. “If my son isn’t in a booster, I’ll drive.”
Nathan handed the keys over without arguing. They were warm from his pocket.
She buckled Josh in and moved to the driver’s seat. Nathan fought with Isabella’s buckles.
“You have to snap here.” Josh pulled on the seat belt and locked Isabella into the seat.
“Yeah.” Nathan sat in the front seat. “Where to first?”
Cheryl handed him the list she’d created.
He glanced at it then shoved it into his pocket. “Thanks.”
He hadn’t bothered to read the list. Maybe he was illiterate.
“There’s a secondhand store nearby.”
“I don’t mind buying new.” Nathan rolled down the window.
“Let’s try this store first.”
She triple-checked that every intersection was clear before turning. Nathan tapped his fingers on the outside of the car, but she wasn’t going to rush.
“Did you finish the staircase?” she asked, tired of the silence.
“We have a couple more layers to go.” Nathan described how distressed oak would be glued as the last layer. “We ordered iron spindles. They’ll match the hinges still in the space.”
Josh asked questions. And he and Nathan had a real conversation. Isabella didn’t say a word, just cuddled her ratty blanket.
At the strip mall, Cheryl pulled up in front of the store. “Everyone out.”
Josh didn’t need help with his buckle and he unlocked Isabella’s chair, too. “Come on.”
The little girl crawled out Josh’s side of the car and took his hand. Nathan stood with the car door open, confusion filling his face.
Cheryl stopped on the sidewalk. “Has she said anything?”
“No.” He rubbed his neck. “Is that normal?”
“I don’t know.” After Levi, Josh had been pretty quiet, too. “Maybe.”
“What should I do?”
He looked so lost, she patted his arm. “Give her stability. Give her love.”
“I guess.” He wiped a hand over his face. “Where do we start?”
“Where’s the list?”
He pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to her. He pointed down two doors from the store. “I’ve been to that bar and never knew there were stores here.”
“I’ve been in this store and never knew there was a bar here.” And didn’t that highlight their differences?
“Let’s go.” She wanted this evening over, but the two kids were kneeling next to a shrub.
“I found a really cool bug.” Josh pointed at a branch.
“Wow.” Nathan crouched next to the kids. “It’s a praying mantis.”
Josh reached out to pick up the bug.
“You should leave it alone.” Nathan told him. “They eat the bad insects.”
“How come we haven’t seen any at my camp?” Josh’s eyebrows were pinched together.
“They aren’t that common,” Nathan said. “They’re cool-looking, aren’t they?”
“I guess.” Josh shrugged.
“I haven’t seen a praying mantis in years.” Nathan smiled.
Something loosened in Cheryl’s chest as she ushered them into the store. She’d been around Nathan’s identical twin a lot. She should be used to looking at his handsome face. But there was something different about Nathan. His face was...weathered. Like he’d seen too much, done too much, felt too much.
She straightened her shoulders. It was a mistake to romanticize Nathan. He’d lived a tough life—on purpose.
Nathan set a hand on her shoulder. “I forgot to thank you for helping me.”
She slipped away from his disturbing touch. “No problem.”
She headed for the booster seats while Josh zeroed in on the play equipment. She kept an eye on him as Nathan settled Isabella into each booster seat, testing the size.
Cheryl read the weight restrictions. “Do you know how much she weighs?”
He shook his head. Picking the girl up, he threw her over his head. She gave a bright chirp of a giggle. “Can’t be more than thirty pounds.”
“This one should last you a while.” Cheryl pointed.
“What do you think?” Nathan crouched next to his daughter, who shrugged.
“I guess that’s a yes.” He looked around the store. “What else?”
“She’s small, so she could use a booster seat at the table.”
“I’ll need to buy a kitchen table.” Nathan picked up two booster seats. “One for my folks’ house.”
She checked on Josh. He was coloring on an easel. She took in a breath. Her son loved drawing and coloring. How much would an easel cost?
Guiding Nathan to the strollers, she asked, “Do you want a stroller?”
Panic flared in his eyes. “Do I need one?”
“Not necessarily, but it’s nice when they’re tired and you don’t have enough arms to carry stuff and her.”
He stared at the choices, not moving. To speed up the selection process, she guided him to a small umbrella stroller. “This should work.”
Isabella sat in the seat, tugged up her blanket and stuck her thumb in her mouth.
“I guess that means we’ll take it.” Nathan rubbed Isabella’s hair.
“We can look at furniture now.”
He shook his head. “No used furniture.”
Wouldn’t that be a nice attitude to have? Cheryl checked through the second-hand clothes instead. “Do you want clothes? This is nice.” It was a pretty pink cotton sundress.
“Sure.” His lost expression was back.
She grabbed a few outfits and then called to Josh, wanting to pull him away from the art supplies before he could ask for something she couldn’t afford. “Can you help us find a stool for Isabella?”
“Over there.” Josh pointed to the side of the store, not moving toward her.
“Come test them out.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m too big for this.”
“That’s because you’re taller. Isabella, can you try it out?” The little girl stepped on the stool.
“That looks good. Right?” Nathan asked.
“Yup.” Cheryl checked through the rest of the store, but didn’t see anything else on the list. “I think that’s it. Josh, take Isabella’s hand and we’ll check out.” By helping, maybe her son wouldn’t be upset he hadn’t gotten anything.
“Hang on.” Nathan headed to the back of the store.
Cheryl didn’t have a chance to wonder what he’d spotted. She pulled the clothes out of the stroller and set them on top of the booster chairs on the counter.
“Your daughter will look precious in that dress.” The cashier smiled as she rang up the charges.
“Thanks, but she’s not my daughter. That’s my son.”
The clerk blinked. “Wow. The kids look alike.”
Cheryl looked between Josh and Isabella. They both had blond hair and brown eyes. “I never noticed.”
Nathan joined them at the counter.
“Are they cousins?” The clerk’s smile changed, a little more flirtatious.
“They aren’t related.” Nathan carried the easel Josh had been admiring. “This, too.”
Josh’s face turned into a thundercloud.
Nathan set his hand on Josh’s shoulder. “Thanks for helping out tonight.”
Josh’s frown deepened. “Is that for Isabella?”
“It’s for you.” Nathan grinned.
Cheryl saw the price. “It’s too much.”
“Mom,” Josh pleaded.
“He had to share his bedroom last night. I think it’s okay.” Nathan stroked the easel. “I had one like this when I was a kid.”
Cheryl twisted her hands together. She wasn’t comfortable with Nathan buying her son a gift, especially such an expensive one.
Josh stared at her. “Please.”
She swallowed. “Okay.”
He grinned. “I’ll carry it.”
“What do you say?” she reminded him.
“Thanks.”
She looked at him.
Josh took a deep breath. “Thank you, Mr. Nathan.”
“You’re welcome.” Nathan nudged her shoulder. “That’s a cool trick,” he said under his breath.
“What?”
“Getting him to talk with just a glare.” Nathan touched his daughter’s hair. “Can you do the same with Isabella?”
Cheryl’s heart lurched. “Maybe she just needs more time.”
“Maybe.” He handed his credit card to the cashier. “Where to next?”
She checked her watch. “We need to eat.”
“Okay.” He grabbed the booster seats and stroller.
The clerk handed her the shopping bag. Josh carried the easel like it was nitroglycerine. Too bad he wasn’t always that careful. He’d broken a plate just last week.
While Nathan installed the car seat, she and Josh put the rest of the purchases in the trunk, but kept out the stroller.
“There’s a café around the corner that’s fast,” Cheryl said. “We can walk over.”
“I’ll follow your lead.”
“Get Isabella in her stroller, unless you want to carry her.”
He grimaced. “I was hoping you’d do the honors.”
“You need to learn.” No matter how helpless he looked, she refused to enable him.
“Let’s give this a try.” He took his daughter’s hand and strapped her in the chair. “That wasn’t hard.”
Four women piled out of a car, laughing as they headed to the bar. Nathan watched as they passed.
“What a cutie.” A woman leaned over the stroller, flashing poor Isabella her abundant cleavage.
“Thanks.” Nathan grinned.
The woman looked at Nathan and sighed. “All the good ones are taken.” She looked at Cheryl. “Lucky you.”
The blonde joined her friends and they entered the bar. The sound of laughter and loud voices drifted out through the open door.
Cheryl shook her head. “I can’t believe that.”
“Yeah.” Nathan looked longingly at the bar. “She didn’t even check to see if we were wearing rings.”
That’s what he’d noticed? Not the woman’s flirty tone or too-tight shirt?
“I’m hungry,” Josh complained.
“Okay.” She took his hand, leaving Nathan behind them to push the stroller.
“The bar has pretty good food,” Nathan said.
She turned. “No.”
He sighed. “It was just a thought.”
At the café, Cheryl asked for a table. “We’ll need a booster seat.”
Nathan’s gaze dropped as the waitress seated them. Cheryl frowned. Had he just checked out the woman’s ass?
Once settled at the table, she glanced at the menu. “What do you want?” she asked Josh.
“What do they have?”
She pointed to the kids’ menu selections on the placemat and helped him sound out the words.
“Pancakes,” he said.
“Sure.” At least it came with applesauce.
Nathan hadn’t opened the menu. Cheryl nodded at Isabella, prompting him.
Nathan winced. “What do you want?”
The little girl chewed her lip. Nathan pointed at the pictures on the placemat she was coloring. “Chicken fingers. French toast. Hot dog. Grilled cheese. Pancakes.” He waited until she stabbed a finger at the French toast.
The waitress came over and Nathan gave her a smile. “I think we’re ready to order. The half-pint will have French toast.”
“And to drink?” the waitress asked.
Nathan looked at Cheryl.
She sighed. “Milk. And she’ll have the applesauce.”
“What will you have, ma’am?”
Ma’am? Cheryl wanted to roll her eyes. “Chicken-salad sandwich with the side salad. Milk to drink.”
Josh ordered his pancakes.
“And what will you have?” The server looked at Nathan.
“What beer do you have on tap?”
Cheryl stiffened.
The server laughed. “We don’t serve alcohol.”
“Shucks.” Nathan winked. “I’ll have a burger.”
“Which one?” The server flipped the menu open to the burger choices.
Nathan didn’t even look. “What’s your spiciest burger, darlin’?”
“The jalapeño burger.”
“Then that’s what I want.”
He’d said he could read. Cheryl didn’t believe him.
After the server left, Nathan asked, “What else do we need to pick up?”
She handed him the list.
He looked through it. “We ticked off a lot.”
Could he identify the items they’d bought? She handed him one of Josh’s crayons. “Go ahead and cross them off.”
His eyes narrowed. Looking through the list, he struck a couple of items, folded it and tucked the paper in his shirt pocket.
When their food came, Nathan watched her cut Josh’s pancakes, then he cut Isabella’s French toast. “Is it good?”
Isabella nodded. She picked up a piece with her fingers and dipped it in the syrup he’d poured.
Cheryl wanted to tell the girl to use her fork, but that was Nathan’s responsibility.
They were quiet until Josh said, “We forgot to get paper for my easel.”
“Da—” Nathan stopped and then said, “Shoot. We’ll fix that.”
Josh sighed. “I wanted to draw the bug.”
“The praying mantis?” Nathan asked.
“Yeah. That mantis thing.”
“We still have to go to another shop,” Cheryl warned. “It’ll be bedtime when we get home.”
Nathan leaned over to Josh. “I used to use stuff my dad had from the construction site.”
“That’s ’cause you had a dad. Mine died.” Josh dragged a pancake through his syrup.
Cheryl swallowed, not looking at Nathan. “Josh...” But she didn’t know what to say.
“I’m sorry your dad died.” Nathan squirmed in his chair. “But if we have time, there’s paper in the carriage house that might work for now.”
“Cool.” Josh dug back into his dinner.
Cheryl took a few bites of her sandwich and then pushed it around her plate. She didn’t feel like eating anymore.
She wanted this night to end. It should have been her and Brad having dinner with their kids. Not a clueless man she’d rather avoid.
* * *
