Chapter 14 #2
“She’s getting better. It’s pretty fast and furious, so hopefully he’ll be up and around later today.” When the man moves toward the front door, I shift to block him.
Like Delilah’s attitude, this seems to amuse him. He must like his ladies with a kick.
“Do you mind if I check on him?”
I don’t let him pass right away. But honestly, I’m out of my depth here.
I’m definitely not the one who should be here taking care of Gavin.
This guy is apparently Gavin’s good friend, though with his attitude it’s hard to believe.
He knew the code to the gate and knows Nancy.
He’s probably fine. Even if he’s a world-class jerk.
“I didn’t get your name.” He holds out his hand, and for a moment, I just stare it down.
He’s chuckling by the time I finally take it, squeezing his hand firmly without a smile. “I’m Zoey.”
His eyes spark with recognition and amusement, like some puzzle piece slid into place, and he shakes his head. “Yes, you are.”
I almost ask him what that’s supposed to mean, then decide I’m not sure I want to know. He walks into the house ahead of me, and I realize suddenly that Ella is in there somewhere. I had forgotten all about her. More evidence I would never be a mother.
But remembering, I’m filled with an intense protective urge, like I need to shield both her and Gavin somehow.
To preserve their privacy and the delicate strangeness of this whole situation.
It makes very little logical sense. But I hate thinking about half the people in Gavin’s life to know about his daughter before he does.
And Ella really doesn’t need any more strangers shoved at her.
“Thayden, wait!”
I grab his arm, but he’s already halfway in the door. He stops just inside, and I know before he even says, “And who might you be?” that he’s seen Ella.
I shove my way past him and move to Ella, who has the kind of stillness about her that a woodland creature does when a predator stumbles upon them.
Like if she just stays frozen, she’ll be invisible.
I don’t even question the urge to throw my arm around her shoulder and pull her into my side. I just do it.
“This is Ella,” I say. And that’s all I say.
I can see the gears turning in Thayden’s head as his eyes bounce between the two of us.
Ella looks more like her mother with her strawberry blonde hair.
Maybe she could pass as mine if you’re not examining too closely.
Never mind that I would have been in high school when I had her. Thayden has no idea how old I am.
“Are you coming in or not?”
Thayden gives his head a little shake and closes the door behind him. “Right. Is he in his room?”
“He was asleep the last time I checked.”
I can tell that this whole situation amuses Thayden to no end, but I don’t know exactly why. I wonder if Gavin has ever talked about me, and that’s why Thayden seemed to have some recognition when I said my name.
Oh, please say that Gavin talked about me. Pretty please.
Thayden knows his way around the house and disappears toward Gavin’s room. I look down at Ella, who recovers enough to pull out of my grasp.
“You said you might want to swim today. Delilah brought my suit for me, so you want to go out?”
Ella lifts her nose and sniffs. “I’d rather not. I’ll be in my room watching movies if you need me.”
Is that all this child does? How many hours is she glued to her tablet each day? Is that the new nanny—electronics? And how does she somehow seem so old and so young at the same time?
I want to argue, but Ella isn’t my kid. And it hasn’t gone well when I’ve tried getting her to do anything. This whole weird babysitting gig is temporary. Gavin can figure it out later.
That thought feels like a fire poker shoved right into the center of my chest. I don’t know him well enough to know if he ever wanted kids or not. But I know how much it would have shaken me to suddenly have one dumped unceremoniously on my doorstep.
How did he not know? Why did his ex tell him now? And why leave Ella here? There have to be laws and child support payments and all kinds of things mixed up in this.
There are so many more questions in my mind. Questions I don’t really deserve answers to, considering Gavin and I are not even really friends. I don’t get to count anything that happened in the fever bubble.
Not the way it felt to be in his arms. Not the way it made my heart leap into a series of complicated cheerleading jumps to hear him call me butterfly. Not feeling needed by this man that I’d respected, admired, and crushed on for so long.
Nope. None of it counts.
Still, I have this intense protectiveness that surged in my chest when I think about Gavin recovering only to find out about Ella. And that his ex left her here. Just thinking about it again gets me all riled up.
I need something to focus on, so I start cleaning up the mess from the kolaches and donuts. I might have stress-eaten a few more than usual, and there’s powdered sugar dusting the smooth marble. Wiping it down so it shines again calms my nerves a fraction. Until I hear a scream.
I go running down the hallway to Ella’s room, where I find her stomping and shrieking in the middle of the room.
I’m relieved that there’s no break-in, no small fire, and no sinkhole opening in the floor.
I can’t actually assess any danger. It just looks a little like her suitcase exploded with pink and purple girl clothes everywhere.
“What’s wrong? Ella?” Maybe going running three times a week isn’t enough, because I’m breathless.
“It’s out of batteries!” she shouts in a voice that sounds far too much like the Exorcist for me.
“What’s out of batteries?”
She turns to me with wild eyes. She’s feral. Not a woodland creature but a rabid hyena. Do they get rabies?
“My tablet,” she growls, and if I had holy water, I might be tempted to toss it on her, just to cover all my bases.
“We can just charge it,” I say in my most soothing voice.
“The cord isn’t in my bag!” Ella throws back her head and screams before stomping her feet, kicking at the furniture, her bag, at me.
I’m concerned for about half a second until I recognize this for what it is. This is what it looks like when an eight-year-old throws a temper tantrum.
Maybe I’m not cut out to be a parent. But I know exactly what to do.
Picking her up so her arms are restrained, I march her through the house, ignoring her screams and the kicks that land on my shins, and I dump her unceremoniously into the pool.
It would have been a lot more satisfying if I hadn’t fallen in after her.