Chapter 3
Chapter Three
I t was only quarter to six when Archer got in his car in the back parking lot. The diner opened early for breakfast and lunch but was closed by three. So even after cleaning up and making sure things were ready for the morning, he was heading home earlier than he had in years.
Just one more reminder of how upside down his life was since moving here to this weird town. He used to be headed into work at this time of day, not going home to another silent dinner with his kid.
His kid.
God, he still wasn’t used to thinking of her that way. Was that awful? Should he have fallen in love with her right away? He didn’t know. He didn’t know what was normal. Did people love their red-faced, screaming newborns right away? Maybe they did. Maybe he should have felt some biological pull toward Olive, but so far things had just been incredibly awkward.
He blew out a frustrated sigh as he drove down Main Street, passing all the charming little stores. Gladys was right. The diner needed a new image if it was going to keep up with this picturesque town.
He pulled down the tree-lined side street where he’d rented the cottage. Never once had he wanted to live on a street like this. Never once had he pictured driving home to his green lawn and picket fence. To his family.
This was nice for some people. But not for Archer.
He was meant to be a chef. To be cooking gourmet food for people who would appreciate it. Not flipping pancakes in small-town America.
Ugh. He rested his head on the steering wheel in the driveway. He just needed a minute before he walked into this life that wasn’t his. In this house that was not home. To this child who was a stranger.
He groaned.
He was the adult.
He had to do right by Olive.
Eventually, she would start talking to him, right?
Right. Of course, she would. It hadn’t even been a week since she moved in. She just needed more time to adjust. And so did he. Archer unfolded himself from the driver’s seat and cut across the front lawn to the door. He had the insane urge to knock on this door that didn’t feel like his. But it was his, at least for the moment, so he went in.
‘Mr. Baer, you’re home.’ Kimmy, the current babysitter, jumped up from her spot on the floor where she’d been playing Candy Land with Olive. ‘See ya, kid.’ She ruffled Olive’s hair before grabbing her purse and meeting Archer by the door.
‘Thanks, Kimmy.’
‘No problem. You can Venmo me.’
‘Right, sure.’
‘Do you need me tomorrow? Because I have drama-club practice. I got the lead in The Duke and I . Can you believe it?!’
What Archer couldn’t believe was how a high school could perform a Bridgerton novel, but that didn’t really matter.
‘I’m in the process of hiring a nanny, so we won’t be needing you as much.’
‘Okay, great. See you around, Olive.’
The girl just watched Kimmy leave, her large brown eyes tracking the young woman’s departure. When he’d first seen Olive, her resemblance to Cate had startled Archer. She was like a miniature version of the woman he’d once known, half a decade ago. Dark hair that framed her round face and fell just below her chin with bangs sweeping across her forehead, big eyes that seemed to take him in and immediately found him lacking. Although that part was unique to Olive. Cate had seemed to like him just fine.
‘So…’ Archer stepped farther into the small living room. ‘Would you like me to play with you? Uh … Candy Land, I mean.’ He gestured feebly toward the board.
Olive blinked.
‘Or we could do something else. I could … uh … put on a movie or something? Or we could color.’ Color? Archer hadn’t even held a crayon since he was eight. But at this point he would do literally anything rather than just stare at each other. Ever since that first disastrous meeting, he got the impression Olive was tolerating his presence, that she wasn’t at all convinced in his ability to do this. So that made two of them.
Olive shook her head, crawling up onto the couch. She pulled her ratty old blanket around her. Her grandmother had explained that it was her blankie from when she was a baby and under no circumstances should he try to put it away or wash it, and if it was ever lost, neither he nor Olive would sleep again. So, no pressure there.
Olive hugged her stuffed wombat and grabbed the remote, flipping on her favorite thing to watch, baking competitions.
A small flicker of something lit in Archer’s chest.
Maybe she was his after all.
A knock at the door gave him something to do besides stare at Olive. He went to answer it, thinking maybe Kimmy forgot something, but it wasn’t Kimmy. He should have known better.
‘Hello, Archer!’ Nancy, her wife Linda, and the custody lawyer, Kaori, stood on his doorstep. The first time this happened, he had been alarmed that he was already in some kind of trouble, but this was the third time in four days that the three women had shown up. And on the one day they hadn’t made it, Estelle, whom he’d met briefly at the café, and Gladys had just ‘dropped by because they were in the neighborhood’.
Archer had learned that Nancy was a retired kindergarten teacher who apparently saw the wellbeing of every child in the town, including all her former students, as her own personal business. Linda mostly seemed to be along for the ride and to point out how little progress he’d made. Throw the woman responsible for his custody case into the mix, and they made quite the welcoming committee.
This time Nancy was carrying a casserole dish of epic proportions. How many people did she think he needed to feed?
‘Brought you a little dinner,’ she said, hefting the dish into his arms.
He’d already failed at convincing them that he was a chef and that he was perfectly capable of cooking dinner, so this time he just mumbled his thanks.
‘How’s Olive?’ Kaori asked, peering past him into the house.
‘She’s fine.’
‘Still not talking to you, huh?’ Linda said, shuffling her way past him.
‘She’ll get there,’ Nancy said, patting his arm as she also scooted her way into his house. He didn’t fight it. He’d already learned it was best to let them in, to prove that Olive was alive and well, and then they’d be on their way.
He sighed as he watched the two older women coo over Olive, feeling absurdly jealous when she smiled at them and answered their questions about her day, opening up as soon as they flanked her on the couch.
‘We’re all on your side,’ Kaori said.
‘Yeah,’ he huffed a laugh. ‘You all clearly have a lot of faith in me. There hasn’t been a day since Olive moved in that someone hasn’t checked on her.’
Kaori stared at him like he was missing some critical brain cells.
‘Of course we have,’ she said. ‘We love that girl, and frankly, we don’t know all that much about you.’
‘Fair.’
‘But Cate apparently thought you were okay, so I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt.’
Archer leaned his head back against the doorframe, the evening sun warming his face. ‘She thought I was okay ?’
‘Actually, she never talked about you at all.’
He winced. ‘Ouch.’
Kaori shrugged. ‘The one thing she did say was she thought you were destined for bigger things. She didn’t want to stand in your way. Olive was her dream. She didn’t want to derail yours.’
There were tears in Kaori’s eyes when he looked at her again. ‘I’m really sorry,’ he said.
Kaori sniffed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘She was a wonderful person, Archer. And Olive is wonderful, too.’
He cleared the emotion from his throat. ‘I know. I’m … trying.’
Kaori studied him carefully before patting his shoulder. ‘It takes a village to raise a child and we’re that village.’ She held his gaze. ‘And we’re watching you.’
‘Comforting,’ he said, dryly.
Kaori smiled. ‘It should be. We’re looking out for Olive. And for you, too. Just accept the help, Archer. It makes the whole thing easier.’
She moved past him and got a big hug from Olive. Archer closed the door and went into the kitchen to find space among the other casseroles in the freezer for the latest addition.
Accepting help was not exactly his strong suit, but for Olive, he’d try. Not that he had much of a choice. He was pretty sure these women could take him down, if necessary. He was going to try to make sure it wasn’t necessary.
Finding a small space, he shoved the casserole into the overstuffed freezer and pushed the door shut.
There. Help accepted.