Chapter 7 Lazlo
Lazlo
The farmhouse was gorgeous, bathed in warm evening light.
Two stories, a real family home, the property large and green and everything I would’ve imagined—if I’d let myself get past the fact that I was here.
Gods, what was I doing? My stomach was writhing with nerves, my palms slippery with sweat on my steering wheel, which I was still gripping white-knuckled even though the car was off.
I was beyond nervous. Was this a date? It felt like a date.
But maybe Jerry had just been grateful that I was coming to check on the baby. That seemed more likely.
I yoyoed back and forth, debating on what this whole thing meant. He’d invited me to dinner—sort of. Maybe I’d invited myself? Fuck.
Prying my fingers off the steering wheel, I forced myself to get out of the car. Date or not, I’d still promised to check on Ladybug.
The front door opened before I even got up the porch steps.
Jerry’s smile was even more gorgeous than I’d remembered, now wide without all the stress of this morning weighing him down.
His sharp jawline was softened by a couple days’ worth of whiskers, and his eyes seemed to sparkle with humor.
“Hey, I was wondering when you were going to come inside.” His deep voice held a teasing lilt, and I felt a blush creep up my neck onto my cheeks.
I groaned, wincing. “You were watching?”
He nibbled on his lower lip, looking oddly shy as he stepped back to usher me inside, his hand brushing over my lower back as I stepped past him. “Just hoping you didn’t turn around and leave before I had a chance to woo you with food.”
Woo? So, it was a date—probably. “Consider me wooed,” I said, cheeks burning hotter. I tried to hold eye contact, but his gaze was too intense, and I quickly turned away to take off my shoes, lining them up on the rack beside the door.
Before I could take my coat off, his hands were there, peeling it back for me so he could hang it on a hook. “I hope you don’t mind takeout. It’s been a busy day.”
“I don’t mind at all. It smells delicious.” The house was filled with a rich scent of tomato, basil, and melted cheese, unmistakably pizza.
I looked around at the parts of the house I could see from here.
The furniture had obviously been chosen for comfort over style, with deep cushions and throw blankets that beckoned with the promise of naps.
The hardwood floors were scuffed and darkly stained from generations of family living, layered over with thick area rugs, all in mismatched colors.
Jerry led me toward the kitchen, and I lingered over all the pictures of kids lining the wall. “Your family?” I asked.
He turned back to see what I was looking at, and his smile turned fond.
“Yes, those are all the foster kids who have stayed here through the years. They still send me updates from time to time.” He stepped through an open doorway, and I followed, the aroma of food growing stronger. “Can I offer you something to drink?”
“Coffee if you have it?” I asked, relaxing into the warmth of the home, with its lived-in comfort at every turn.
He turned, smirking, and held up his own mug.
“I’m on my third cup. I worked late at the bar last night—where I work security—before the baby turned up here this morning.
” He reached up into the cupboard and pulled down a second mug and filled it from the coffee pot on the counter. “Long day for you too?”
I blew out a breath, cheeks puffing out. “You have no idea. I had a burst pipe in the kitchen and ended up without water, so I decided to spend the night in a hotel. Except around 3am, another guest went into emergency labor, and I stepped in to help them deliver.”
Jerry was watching me with something that looked like awe. “You haven’t slept yet? Now I feel bad for making you come check on Ladybug.”
“You didn’t make me. I offered, and I promise I wouldn’t have made the offer if I didn’t want to be here.
” We shared a long look, the tension in the room building, like static against my skin.
He finally broke it by reaching out with the mug, and our fingers brushed as I took it from him, sending an electric current straight up to my shoulder.
The mug was warm, but I shivered regardless.
He cleared his throat but didn’t look away. “Milk or sugar?”
“Black is fine.” As a medical student, I’d gotten used to drinking the swill they served at the hospital, often in too much of a rush to bother dressing it up. This dark roast was luxury in comparison to that tar.
Jerry gestured toward the counter where a line of pizza boxes was set up, and my eyes went straight to where his colorful tattoos disappeared under the sleeve of his t-shirt, flexing with the movement.
Would it be rude if I asked to lick them?
“I didn’t know what you’d like, so I got a selection.
I’ve got a veggie, since I didn’t know if you liked meat? ” He raised a brow in question.
“I do eat meat, but veggie is good too.”
He nodded, as if making a mental note of my preferences. “Then we have a meat lovers, in case you loved meat.” Jerry’s grin was just a little lewd and a whole lot suggestive.
I sputtered, slapping a hand over my mouth as I choked on a laugh. Jerry looked proud for making me laugh.
“Sorry, the sleep deprivation must be getting to us,” he said, before moving down the line. “And then there’s sausage and onion, because for some reason, Sam insisted on it.”
“Sam?” I asked, my smile turning brittle. The ground seemed to shift under my feet. He lived with someone else? How could I have been wrong again?!
Totally unaware to my internal panic, he gestured with a nod for me to follow him, and we headed toward the living area.
“Samson is my foster son.” The relief at his words was startling.
I was already far too invested in whatever was brewing here, but no matter how much I told myself to slow down, my heart couldn’t seem to listen.
“Oh… right. You mentioned a foster son at the clinic,” I said, forcing myself to relax.
We rounded the corner into the living room, and my heart just melted.
There was a teenager, his unruly hair flopping into his eyes, lying on his stomach on the rug, beside Ladybug, who was strapped into a reclined baby seat.
He was talking softly to her, and for a moment, Jerry and I stood in silence and listened.
“When you get older, I can teach you how to throw a ball and ride a bike, and when you need help with your homework… well, Jerry can do that. He’s pretty smart. How does that sound, Mia?” Then he held his phone up, with the camera app open. “Say cheese.”
I felt like I was interrupting something, but Jerry stepped into the room and sat down on the couch, so I trailed after him. “Hey, Sam, this is Dr. Zappek.”
“Just Lazlo is fine,” I told him, perching on the edge of the couch beside Jerry.
“Hi, Lazlo,” Sam said, sitting up, an imprint of the carpet still on his forearms, like he’d been there a while. “Are you here to check on the baby?”
“I sure am.” I pulled my stethoscope out of my pocket to show him. “Would you like to help me?”
His eyes widened. “Can I?”
“I would really appreciate it. I need someone to hold the flashlight steady. Do you think you can manage that?” I pulled my penlight from my front shirt pocket and held it out to him.
He nodded eagerly and took the light from me, clicking it on and off a few times.
I looked over at Jerry, and he was smiling warmly, watching the interaction.
For such a big guy, he really didn’t come across as anything but a teddy bear, not a single intimidating bone in his body.
It almost didn’t seem fair that he didn’t have any kids of his own; he was a natural father.
Sam was a lucky kid—and so was Ladybug. But if he was content with foster kids, did that mean he would be alright settling for a beta like me?
But then it seemed to register what I’d heard from Sam earlier when he was talking to the baby. I came over to sit on the floor beside the baby seat. “Did I hear you call her Mia?” I asked. Did that mean they had settled on a name for her?
“Oh, um…” His face scrunched up.
“Where’d you hear that name?” Jerry asked.
The boy went strangely still, avoiding eye contact, clicking the penlight a few times quickly. “Uh, I dunno. Just came up with it, I guess. She looks like a Mia, don’t you think?” His eyes cast away, forced casual, as if he felt guilty about something.
“It’s a pretty name. I like it,” I told him, and it earned me a smile.
“I thought so too,” he said.
I got Sam to shine the light inside her mouth so he could see the cleft in the roof of her mouth, and he was fascinated.
He was less fascinated when she filled her diaper, but it was a good sign that she was eating.
Now that Mia was getting formula, I could already tell the jaundice was improving.
As long as she kept gaining weight, I saw no reason why she needed to come back to see me until she was ready for her first vaccinations.
Jerry would need to figure out a birth certificate for her before then.
“Hey, Jer, you promised a movie if I got my homework done,” Sam said, bouncing on his toes.
“Hmm, so I did. Lazlo, would you like to join us for a movie? I know you must be tired…”
“I’d love to,” I said quickly. Sure, I was tired, but the thought of leaving any sooner than I had to was out of the question right now.
So, we loaded up our plates with pizza and settled in the living room.
Jerry put his plate on the coffee table, before he got a bottle ready for Mia.
She looked even smaller when cradled in his arms, though the way she settled down for her dinner, I imagined he must’ve made her feel safe.
I knew that was how they would make me feel…
Then, just as the movie started, Sam jumped up from his spot on the floor in front of the coffee table. “I forgot something in the barn. Be right back. Go ahead and start the movie without me.”
We watched him run off, the screen door slamming behind him, and Jerry chuckled. “I think he’s got a crush. I’m not ready for the hormonal-teenager stage yet.”
The sudden silence seemed to wrap itself around us, and it became very obvious that the two of us were alone, with nothing but the sound of Mia’s swallowing.
I stole a glance at him and found him already watching me back.
There was no doubt a strange chemistry kindling between us.
I recognized in him that same quality I felt in myself daily, the need to keep, to protect.
It was intoxicating to have something so intense directed my way.
I cleared my throat. There was a question I had to ask before I got my hopes up too far. “Is this a date?” I blurted. I felt stupid asking that, but my brain had convinced me that it could go either way.
Jerry’s lips twitched with the hint of a smile.
“I would like it if it was…” he began, before he seemed to reconsider.
“Ideally, a date would be where I took you to a nice restaurant, maybe a moonlit walk along the pier, somewhere quiet where we can talk. I’m desperate to get to know you better, although I don’t know how long it’ll be before I’ll feel comfortable leaving Ladyb—I mean Mia, with a sitter.
Watching a movie with kids isn’t exactly the epitome of romantic. ”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” I said, reaching across the void between us to brush a fingertip along the lines of a heart tattoo on his forearm.
“It just means we’ll have to take things slow.
” I felt goosebumps lift along his skin, and when I chanced a look into his eyes, there was unmistakeable heat there.
“I’m good with slow,” he said.
On the screen, a white feather was floating past the movie credits, to land on the ground at a man’s feet.
I was just about to suggest we pause the movie when Sam came running back in, breathless, and I pulled my hand back into my lap.
“Okay, I’m back.” He plopped down in front of his plate and picked up a piece of pizza, meat lovers, digging straight in.
We briefly paused the movie to stack dishes in the dishwasher, to grab bowls of ice cream, and for Jerry to put Mia to bed in her crib.
When we restarted the movie, Jerry was sitting a lot closer than he had before, and with Sam’s attention on the movie, Jerry reached over and took my hand, lacing our fingers together.
It was so innocent, but it made my heart race in my chest, like I was the teenager with a crush.
Pounding heart or not, there was nothing on earth that could’ve kept me awake.
I fell asleep not long after, fingers entwined with Jerry’s.
It all just felt so… right. Plus, I’d barely had any sleep last night, so who could blame me?
I woke up as Jerry was draping a blanket over me.
The TV was off, the room dark. Sam had already gone to bed.
I fought to sit up, shaking my head to clear it. “I should go…” I mumbled.
Jerry pressed me back down with a firm hand on my shoulder. “No. Stay. You shouldn’t be driving when you’re this tired. I have a spare room if you prefer.”
I probably should’ve fought a little harder to go, but I just couldn’t find the willpower to say no. So instead, I sank back into the couch, my eyes already drifting closed once more. “No, no, this is perfect. Thank you. Wake me to help with Mia.”
He didn’t, of course. He let me sleep the whole night through.