Chapter 4 #2
Elodie winces when she sees the back of Remy’s outfit as I continue to hold her at arm’s length before casting my eyes toward the wipes, debating how I’m going to clean her up.
“That outfit is probably unsalvageable.”
Sighing, I accept the clothing’s fate. “In the trash it is, then.”
“Honestly, you’re better off just stripping her down and washing her off in the sink.”
“You can do that?” I ask as I hold Remy over the kitchen sink and Elodie begins to undress her.
She chuckles as she carefully removes the soiled clothing and diaper. “You bathed her over here last night, didn’t you? It’s better to rinse her than waste all of those wipes. She’ll be much cleaner this way anyway.”
Setting Remy down in the porcelain sink, I turn on the faucet, wait for it to warm up a bit, then put it on the spray mode and gently rinse her off.
“I’ll go get her an outfit and new diaper,” Elodie says.
Once Remy is clean and redressed and the high chair cover is in the washing machine, Elodie heads for the front door.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“I left something in my car. I’ll be right back,” she says, as though she needs to reassure me that she’s not about to run away. Maybe that’s my own insecurity coming out, but I push the thought away.
When Elodie returns, she’s carrying a guitar case.
“Please tell me you don’t also have a drum set in your car.”
Laughing, she props the case upright. “Nope. I’m a one-instrument band.”
“So you play?”
“No, this is just for decoration.” Her sarcasm is becoming oddly comforting. With an eye roll, she says, “Yes, Henley. I play.” She leans the guitar case against the back of the couch, surveying the state of my house. “So, looks like you didn’t get much done today.”
“Honestly, I don’t even know where to start. I was lucky to get the high chair finished and put Remy in that. I swear, it’s impossible to get anything done with a baby in tow.”
Elodie takes Remy from me, settling her on her hip with ease. “Okay, let’s start with the crib. That way she can sleep in her own bed tonight, and maybe you can get a little more sleep.”
I almost tell her that having Remy sleep on my chest last night was much more pleasant than I care to admit.
Holding her close was a surprising comfort, especially for a guy who likes his space.
But with my daughter? It’s a different sort of bond, one in which it feels like she’s been missing from my life this entire time.
Fuck. There’s another thought I don’t want to tackle right now.
“Crib it is.” I drag the box into the only empty space on the floor in the living room before taking my utility knife from my pocket and slicing through the tape.
“Sorry for assuming that Dilynne was your girlfriend, by the way,” Elodie says, breaking through the silence.
Lifting my head, I meet her eyes. “No need to apologize.”
Her cheeks turn pink again behind the curtain of her hair. “I know you said that Remy’s mom took off, but I wasn’t sure if you were seeing someone.” Our eyes meet and she shakes her head. “I guess I just wanted to be prepared if someone else would be around the house,” she explains with a shrug.
“Nope. It’s just me, and that’s the way I like it. Relationships aren’t my thing.” The moment the words leave my lips, I glance back up at Elodie to catch her reaction, even though I shouldn’t care what she thinks.
The truth is, if it were anyone else, I wouldn’t.
Her eyebrows lift, but then she focuses on Remy. “I haven’t had much luck with those either.”
Standing tall again, I remove pieces of the crib from the box. “Uh, how old are you by the way? I probably should have asked that the other day, but…well, you know what a flustered state I was in.”
She chuckles. “I’m twenty-five. You?”
“Thirty-two.”
Christ, she’s seven years younger than me. Maybe that will make it easier to keep my thoughts about her strictly platonic.
Elodie crosses the room and scoops up a toy, holding it out to Remy. But the bounce in her breasts and sway of her hips as she strides toward my daughter makes it difficult to keep the level head I know I need to find.
I clear my throat and continue our conversation. “So, what brought you to Blossom Peak? This isn’t exactly the type of place people move to out of nowhere. Most of us who live here permanently were born here or transplanted here for work or for family. The rest are tourists.”
“I used to come here as a kid,” she says while showing Remy how to shake the toy to make noise. “My parents booked us a trip each summer where we’d stay in a cabin, swim in the lake, and hike. I needed a break from LA, but I wasn’t ready to go back home. This was the first place I thought of.”
“And where’s home?” Taking a seat on the ground, I lay out the crib’s pieces and screws before opening up the instruction manual.
“Garnet Valley. Have you heard of it?”
“That’s in Tennessee, right?”
“Yeah, about two hours from here, tucked up in the Great Smoky Mountains.”
“So, your parents would leave their mountains to come to our mountains?”
Elodie laughs. “That’s what my dad used to say to my mom, but she loved the cherry blossom trees here.
Coming here felt different—like a real getaway.
And honestly, this place holds some of my favorite childhood memories.
Like this scar,” she says, holding out her leg to me and pointing to the divot in her shin.
But all I can focus on is her smooth, tan skin and muscle tone in her calf.
“I got this from racing my brother through the woods behind our rental cabin. One wrong step and I fell shins-first into some rocks.”
“And that made you fall in love with Blossom Peak?”
“Yes, Henley. The blood overwhelmed me and I’ve associated pain with love ever since.”
“You know, I didn’t think anyone could perfect sarcasm quite like my sister, but it seems I was wrong.”
Elodie flips her hair over her shoulder as she walks into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water. “Then maybe I need to take her up on her offer to hang out.”
The idea makes me uneasy, but I’m sure Elodie could use a friend or two while she’s here.
Even I can admit that my sister is someone you want in your corner.
“That’s if you can convince her to step away from her shop.
My sister owns Clark Customs & Auto Repair and she’s been known to sleep in the garage when she’s knee-deep in a project. ”
“She works on cars for a living?”
“Yeah. Trust me, she’s taken a lot of shit in her life because of it too, so don’t bring it up unless you want an earful about stereotypes.”
Smiling, she heads back into the living room and takes a seat on the couch, watching me work. “Oh, I know all about stereotypes. I carry around a guitar case and suddenly, I’m out here just trying to be the next Taylor Swift.”
“Well, are you?”
Sighing, she looks down at Remy. “I’m not sure what I want anymore.”
I want to press her further, to learn more about what that defeated reply really means, but Remy starts fussing. With one glance at her watch, Elodie hoists Remy on her shoulder and stands. “I think she’s ready for a bottle and a nap.”
I stare down at the half-built crib.
“We’ll try the crib tonight. She can nap on me this time.” Elodie makes a bottle for the baby with one hand like it’s nothing and then heads toward the hall.
Before she gets too far, I call out for her. “Elodie?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you again.”
Her smile is soft, but I don’t miss the pink hue that rushes across her skin as she looks away. “You don’t have to say that every time I do what you’ve hired me to do.”
“Yeah, I actually do.”
With a shake of her head, she retreats down the hall before I focus back on my task, thinking about how normally I’d be finishing up things at the lodge and wondering which bar I would hit up to find my companion for the night.
Oh, how things have changed.
***
“Oh my gosh, I haven’t been here in ages.
” Elodie’s entire face lights up the second we walk into Bites & Bliss Bakery, a staple here in Blossom Peak.
The purple and white walls are bright and inviting, providing the perfect backdrop for the bakery, and the view of the mountain peaks surrounding our town is one of the best things about this place.
“I wonder if they still have that blueberry-filled donut…” Elodie muses.
“We do, but we’re almost out. If you want one, tell me now and I’ll put it aside.” Carolina, the owner of the bakery since I was a kid, wipes her hand on her apron as she watches Elodie survey the case of baked goods.
Elodie practically bounces on her toes. “Yes, please.”
Laughing, Carolina moves toward the case and takes out the donut in question as I adjust Remy’s carrier in my hand, drawing her eyes to the sight. “Henley Clark, is that…”
“What?”
She plants her hands on her hips, moving her eyes between me and Elodie. “I know it’s been a long time since I was in school, but if memory serves me correctly it takes nine months to have a baby, and I didn’t even know you were dating anyone.”
Elodie’s eyes snap to mine at the same time I look at her. “Uh, we’re not…”
“This is my nanny, Carolina,” I say a little too quickly.
“When the hell did you hire a nanny?” Carolina glances at the clock and then back over to me. “How did I miss this?”
“Probably when you were too busy making penis-shaped cakes,” I mutter.
“I heard that,” Carolina fires back.
Elodie’s eyes move between us. “I feel like there’s a story here that I’m not privy to.”
Sighing, I ignore Elodie’s comment and focus on clearing the air. “I just found out I have a daughter, Carolina. She wasn’t planned and I didn’t even know she was coming until her mom dropped her off with me. Elodie was interviewing for a job at the lodge, but I hired her to help me instead.”