Chapter 7
SEVEN
RIDGE
I ’m up earlier than usual this morning, still frantically straightening and cleaning last-minute spots that people probably don’t think about. The bit of floor inside the pantry closet, for example, is now spotless. I spent ten minutes filling a bucket and wringing out the mop and so forth for a patch of floor that’s maybe two square feet. I also dusted the top of the doorframes and triple-checked that the toilet seat in the hallway bathroom was down. It doesn’t matter that, because of Lou, I always make sure I do it. I checked anyway.
Did I also second-guess my outfit and stare at my shirt in the mirror for several minutes? Yes, I did. Who the fuck knows why I did that, because I wear pretty much the same thing to work every day. Early in my career, I wore a crisp white shirt with my favorite band’s insignia on the back. It happened to be the same day that I got into a fight with a brand-new bottle of black tattooing ink and lost. After that, I stuck to black jeans and black shirts only. I save the good stuff for outside of work.
It’s not as if I go to work looking like a bum any other day, but today, I’m spending a few extra seconds trying to tame my hair into place and running a hand across the wrinkled fabric over my chest and checking my teeth even though I haven’t even fucking eaten anything yet.
And that’s another thing. Normally, I’d have eaten by now. But Lou wanted to make Darcy breakfast and have coffee ready for her. I didn’t hate the idea, so I dragged myself out of bed to make sure I had time for all of it.
I check the clock on the microwave and note that Darcy could show up at any moment. We’re inside a thirty-minute window of when I asked her to arrive, and she feels like the type to be early because it’s her idea of being on time. Not that I would ever complain about punctuality.
But I’m also acutely aware and equally annoyed with myself for feeling frazzled. I don’t know her well enough to feel frazzled by her. I didn’t even know it was possible after only meeting someone once. And did I mention I feel a lot less like a grown-ass man when I’m running around like a teenager and saying words like “frazzled”?
I plate three slices of bacon next to a pile of fluffy scrambled eggs topped with melty cheese, pleased with how they both look. One thing I’ll never understand is how this new generation seemingly doesn’t know how to cook anything. I don’t blame them, though. I blame their parents. If your parents are not using every opportunity to teach you how to do basic life skills, they’re failing you. And yes, I will say that to their faces.
A knock at the door interrupts my thoughts, and I’m suddenly very aware that Darcy is at my door.
“Lou!” I call down the hallway.
She’s in her room getting dressed—or she was half an hour ago. But I know she will want to answer the door with me.
“I’m coming!” she yells back. “Don’t open the door without me.”
I come around the island that separates the kitchen from the open living room and stare at the door. Then I look down the hall again. Seconds pass and my chest starts to feel hot.
Darcy knocks again. Oh my god. She’s probably standing there wondering what the hell is going on. If I were her, I’d start looking around to make sure I have the right place.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, so I take it out and check my notifications.
DARCY
I think I’m here? I knocked.
Dear God in heaven, Lou, please hurry up.
“I’m here,” she says, coming down the hallway and— what the hell is she wearing?
Lou comes to my side, her hair in perfect braids, as requested. I finished them just before I started making breakfast, and she was still in her sloth pajamas. Now, she’s sporting a pink princess costume gown from her dress-up chest, matching plastic high heels, about ten plastic rings on her fingers, and a crown. She’s also dragging—not wearing—her Monsters Inc. backpack with a stuffed panda inside.
“Lou, I—” I stop mid-sentence because what the hell am I even going to say? And Darcy has been on the porch for what feels like five years, so I shake it off and step toward the door. Lou is by my side, beaming with what might be too much excitement.
Like father, like daughter, I open the door with probably too much gusto.
“Oh, hi,” she says. “Good, I was worried I had the wrong place.”
Le sigh . And there she is in all her fucking adorably sexy glory. She’s dressed more casually than at the interview, in black leggings that hit mid-calf and a T-shirt with the words “Dream Big” printed over the chest. Her hair is pulled into a claw clip in the back, and she’s added a touch of mascara and something slightly glossy to her lips. Her tortoiseshell glasses have fallen down her nose a bit, and it’s like she’s looking over the rim at me. Good Lord.
“Hi, um, c-come in,” I stutter out. Christ, get a hold of yourself.
“Dad, what’s wrong with your voice?” Lou asks.
Kill me. “Nothing, just need a sip of water,” I lie through my teeth. Damn kids pick up on everything.
“Come in, Darcy,” Lou says, grabbing her by the hand. “We made you breakfast.”
Lou’s use of the term “we” is a little liberal, considering she wasn’t even in the room, but I let it slide.
“Wow, you did?” Darcy asks. “Thank you so much. I didn’t get to eat this morning, so this is perfect.”
“Sit here,” Lou says, practically pushing her onto one of the stools at the island. The side facing the living room has a nice overhang that’s perfect for a few stools, so I never bothered getting a dining room table since that was more than enough space to accommodate the two of us.
I have about a hundred questions I want to ask her, like: How come you didn’t eat this morning? Were you running late? Are you single? And if so, how? It gets more ludicrous from there, so instead, I simply set the plate in front of her and add two biscuits.
“Would you like some coffee?” I ask, finally sounding halfway coherent.
“Yes, please,” she says, looking up at me with those big blue doe eyes.
I swear I don’t know if maybe the glasses make them look bigger or if she’s actually walking around with real-life animated princess vibes, but either way, I’m here for it.
I grab a mug from the cupboard above the coffee maker and pour her a cup, leaving room in case she wants creamer. Then I set both the mug and creamer next to her plate.
“Just real quick, while you’re eating, here’s some stuff you might be looking for today.” I point around the kitchen, opening drawers and cabinets, showing her where various items are in case she needs them later.
Lou uses this time to crawl up onto the stool next to Darcy and then watches me with a strange interest, like she didn’t know where any of this was either and is discovering it all for the first time. She’s already informed me that she and Darcy are going to become very best friends, so maybe she’s just trying to be a supportive BFF.
I set a plate of food in front of Lou as well, sans bacon. She’s off it right now and brainstorming about ways she can still enjoy the crisp tastiness of her favorite breakfast meat without killing pigs to do it. I suggested turkey bacon, which she denied, saying she didn’t want to make a different animal suffer either.
We went through the same thing with chicken nuggets, which she stopped eating for a little while. When she realized there was nothing she could do, she started eating them again. And before anyone comes for me, we tried plant substitutes, and let’s just say neither of us liked what they did to our bathroom habits.
After they both finish eating, I take Darcy down the hallway, showing her where the bathroom and Lou’s bedroom are. She steps into Lou’s room, complimenting Lou on her amazing stuffed animal organizational skills and the hand-drawn art she has on the wall next to her desk.
“And this,” I say, pausing to place my hand on the door, “is my room.” I open it for a moment, showing her inside. I notice she’s deliberate about not going in. “I don’t think there’s anything in here that you’ll need, but just in case, there is first-aid stuff under the sink in my bathroom, and that first drawer right there has some T-shirts if you, um, I don’t know, spill something and want to change or something.”
I don’t know why I said it. I shouldn’t have. Now all I can think about is seeing her in one of my T-shirts and peeling it off her naked body and the way she might moan, and for fuck’s sake. I definitely don’t have it together.
“Great,” she says. And she says it in a way that sounds like she wants to say more but doesn’t. She’s presses her pouty lips into a stark line instead.
This hallway is narrow, and Darcy is standing very close to me, and I get a whiff of her sweet scent in the air between us. It’s warm, like coconut and jasmine or maybe honey. Sweet, sticky honey. That’s what she is. And I’m a naughty bear. Jesus Christ.
“So I’d better be going,” I say, quickly, backing away from my bedroom as I close the door. “Text me if you have any questions. I can usually answer pretty quickly. If it’s an emergency, just call.”
“Will do,” she says.
Again, her tone sounds clipped or maybe just not as inviting as I’ve heard her sound. Of course, that was an interview, and everyone sounds a little more polished in that setting.
I check my watch, cursing myself when I realize I needed to leave five minutes ago. It’s not like I’m always late, but the past few months, with Lou getting kicked out of daycares and bringing her into the office, is starting to get to me. I know no one cares. I know Avery is happy with what I do for him, and all the rest of the guys like me. I know they all love Lou, too. But I would really like to get back to a place of normalcy. I go to work, I come home, and there’s no running here or there during work hours to put out a fire.
I’m in my car and backing out of my parking spot when I realize I’ve left my sketchbook, my wallet, and my travel mug of coffee back inside the house. But I’m not going back for them now. I already feel like an idiot. It’s best that emotion is kept deep inside.
And it’s not the only emotion I need to keep buried deep down either.