Chapter 6 Tessa
Tessa’s phone buzzed on the counter just as she was smoothing the play area rug for the third time.
Her stomach churned as she stared at the brief text he’d probably sent from a stoplight.
“Okay,” she told no one, and lifted her chin like the apartment could hear her and talk back. If it could, it would tell her she’d used too much organic lemon cleaner and the amount of toys she’d purchased bordered on ridiculous.
Too bad. Olive Leighton was going to have fun or Tessa would die trying.
With two minutes left, she did one last lap around her small but cheery home, inspecting it for baby readiness.
The outlets were covered. Candy Land, Chutes ‘n’ Ladders, and no less than five wooden puzzles were stacked for easy access.
The tiny table and chairs were ready for their first tea party.
A basket of rubber blocks and thick board books sat on a coffee table that had padding on sharp corners.
She wandered down the hallway to look at the guest room—now Olive’s room, the doorway protected by a small gate.
The toddler bed that Dusty had built with impressive Allen wrench skills and an endless supply of patience was nestled in the corner under a window.
Tessa had covered it with a pink gingham comforter and a few too many stuffed animals.
Was there such a thing as too many stuffed animals? “I think not,” Tessa murmured, moving her last-minute inspection to the hall bathroom.
There, a nightlight glowed faintly in the corner and a little stepstool waited at the bathroom sink.
She’d even set out a brand-new Little Mermaid toothbrush on the counter. On the tub, a bottle of bubble bath stood next to four rubber duckies lined up like a squadron of cheery yellow soldiers.
Tessa paused in the doorway and tried to picture Olive splish-splashing and giggling while she blew bubbles. She could hear a small voice asking for another story, pwease, Miss Tessa! She could already sense the love in a hug goodnight before lights-out time.
It wasn’t hard to imagine any of that, because she’d been thinking about having Olive stay here every minute since she’d made the suggestion.
At Dusty’s request, she hadn’t told anyone about their plans.
She knew anything could happen—Morgan could change her mind or run off or find another solution—but none of those things had.
More importantly, she had to respect client confidentiality and Morgan’s deeply personal situation.
In about one minute, she’d have this little girl in her home for a month. When the time was right, she’d tell friends and family they were doing a favor for one of Dusty’s patients. For now, for today, all that mattered was that she bond with Olive.
And bond she would. Through toys, games, special treats…whatever it took to give this child joy and fill this home with girlish giggles.
Confident she could do that, Tessa walked back into the kitchen just as she heard a car pull into the driveway.
Okay, then. Showtime.
The sound of footsteps on the stairs would come next—Dusty’s steady stride, his voice calling up, the door cracking open, a high-pitched, “Hewwo.”
She waited, but heard nothing. The quiet stretched long enough for her to go to the front window and see Dusty’s truck parked in the driveway, no people, no child, no bag, nothing.
Finally, the driver’s door opened, and Dusty stepped out and looked right up at her, as if he fully expected Tessa to be looking out her window. Instantly, she saw a look of frustration and a plea for help in his eyes.
Tessa didn’t hesitate. She darted to the door and down the outside stairs to the driveway.
When she got there, Dusty had moved to the passenger side of the truck. As Tessa walked closer, that door opened and Dusty reached a hand to help Morgan out of the truck.
“C’mon,” he said gently. “At least stand out here to say goodbye and I’ll get her things. Look, Tessa’s here.”
Tessa quickened her stride, watching Morgan step out slowly, moving with zombie-like energy.
She looked more fragile than when Tessa had met her the first time. Or maybe she carried herself differently today, with her shoulders rounded forward, her face pale under the bright July sun.
When she’d come in to see Dusty and he’d presented their idea and introduced Tessa, Morgan had seemed brighter and slightly more hopeful. Not today.
Her hair was pulled into a sloppy knot, and she wore sweatpants and an oversized hoodie that looked downright painful in this heat. Her expression teetered between terrified and despondent, her vitality so low it was a wonder she managed to dress and pack for herself, let alone a child.
She looked in Tessa’s direction and lifted a sad hand in a partial wave.
“Hey, Morgan,” Tessa said.
Wordlessly, Dusty opened the cab door, leaning into the truck’s back seat. He spoke in soft tones, too quiet for Tessa to hear, as he unlatched a car seat belt and reached in for Olive.
A second later, he turned, holding a tiny child wearing a mismatched pajama top and bottoms, sneakers with no socks, and a wild mess of yellow curls that hadn’t seen a hairbrush in…a while. Easing her to the ground, Dusty slowly straightened as if he expected his little visitor to run.
But she stood rooted to that spot, gaze down, thumb in mouth, tiny shoulders rising and falling with each breath.
“Well, you must be Olive,” Tessa said, stepping around Morgan to greet the child. “Hello. I’m Tessa.”
When Tessa bent closer, the little girl took a step back, refusing to look up.
“I can’t wait to show you all the toys I have for your stay,” Tessa continued, undaunted. “I sure hope you like stuffies. I pretty much cleaned out Target.”
No response. No eye contact. But no tears, either.
Morgan stood a few feet away with her arms folded tight over her chest, staring at the driveway, either disinterested or distracted. Whichever, she wasn’t stepping in and encouraging her little girl to say hello to the nice lady.
Dusty pulled a very small pink roller bag with faded images of Hello Kitty on the side from the back and glanced at Tessa. “That’s everything. The car seat can stay in the truck.”
“Do you want to come inside with Olive?” Tessa asked Morgan. “You might feel better if you see her room.” She leaned a little closer to Olive to stage-whisper, “It’s the one with the brand new big-girl bed.”
Olive looked up, the first spark of interest in her blue, blue eyes.
“No,” Morgan said, her voice gruff. “I can’t…no. You…take her.”
“Well, you probably want to say goodbye.” Tessa put a light hand on Olive’s shoulder. “Kiss Mommy, honey. She wants to hug you before she leaves.”
The interest in her eyes turned to raw fear as she looked from Tessa to Morgan to Dusty and back to Morgan, her little brain visibly putting two and two together and coming up with…desertion.
Instantly, her mouth opened, her eyes filled, and the air rocked with the high-pitched wail.
“No, no, don’t cry—”
Tessa’s plea was drowned out by a scream of “Mommy! Mommy!” as Olive shot straight to her mother, arms out, feet jumping to get up.
Morgan didn’t reach for her child. She just looked down at Olive, silent. Like she didn’t hear the cries or see the desperation in her child’s outstretched arms.
For some reason, that stunned Tessa—more than if she’d reprimanded the little girl.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Tessa murmured, resisting the urge to scoop her up and comfort the poor thing.
“Mommy will be back soon. Until then, we’ll have fun.
So much fun. More fun than you’ve ever had, starting with…
dolls. We have baby dolls. And a stuffed, um, turtle or six.
And a farmhouse. And games. So many games. Candy Land! Do you play?”
Olive wiped a runny nose, put her head back, and howled, “Mommmy!”
Morgan took a step back and gave Tessa a silent plea for help.
“You can pick her up,” Dusty said. “In fact, you should probably take her inside.”
She didn’t have to be asked twice. Tessa lifted the tiny body—she couldn’t weigh twenty-five pounds—and pressed Olive to her chest, ignoring the kicks and attempts to get free.
“Mommmy!” She screeched the word at an unimaginable pitch in Tessa’s ear, who held tight and turned to Morgan.
Tessa still couldn’t fathom that the young woman didn’t want to at least give her daughter one last kiss before a month apart.
But Morgan had two hands over her face, her own shoulders shaking with a sob.
Instantly, Dusty slid his arm around Morgan.
“You got this, Morgan. I promise you, it’s going to be fine.
” He ushered her into the truck, helped her with the seatbelt, then closed the door.
Rushing around the front of the truck, he slowed when he neared the walkway where Tessa stood with a squirmy, teary two-year-old.
“Is she okay?” Tessa mouthed, her heart breaking for Morgan.
He lifted a shoulder. “I’m checking her into the center right now. Can you handle…”
“Yes,” she said with far more confidence than she felt. “We got this. Right, Olive Oyl? Just like Popeye’s girlfriend, huh? We are girls on a mission to have fun. Ready?”
The squirming slowed and the wailing quieted. Her body was still tense, but it was a start.
Dusty leaned forward and gave Olive’s curls a pat. “You’re in good hands,” he whispered, then leaned in to brush Tessa’s cheek with his knuckles. “And you’re a goddess.”
She smiled. “Hand me that suitcase,” she said.
She took the bag from him, surprised at how light it was. Didn’t matter. She’d cleaned out the toddler clothes at Target, too.
“Let’s go, princess. I believe there’s a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with your name on it. I say we have lunch on the rooftop, huh?” She prattled on as she walked up the stairs, turning back once, expecting to see Dusty already behind the wheel, whipping out to get Morgan help.
But he hadn’t moved from the spot, staring up at her with raw affection and admiration in his eyes. Her heart tumbled a little at the sight.
“And that, my little friend, was worth the price of admission,” Tessa whispered. “Which is free for you. Here we go.”
As she opened the door to her apartment, she lowered Olive to the floor. For the very first time, they held each other’s gaze.
Olive’s eyes were red from crying, and shadowed with uncertainty and a distant pain that Tessa wanted to wipe away with every ounce of strength she had.
“Well, welcome home, Olive Oyl.”
The little girl took a step back, shuddered on a breath, and then stood stone still. She was dead silent for ten, fifteen, twenty seconds and…oh.
A wet spot formed in the front of her pajama pants and dribbled to the floor.
Apparently, Morgan had forgotten to put a diaper on her daughter.
Tessa set the suitcase down and let out a sigh. “Why don’t we start with a warm bath, fresh clothes, and then we’ll get that sandwich.”
Olive looked down at the puddle around her untied shoes.
“And you’ll be thrilled to see I bought a pair of light-up sneakers, because every girl should have those.” She took her hand and led her toward the bathroom as the reality of what she’d agreed to settled in.
This wasn’t a month of babysitting.
This was a lifeline for a drowning child.