Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
TOBIAS BARRETT
I finish putting the dishes in the dishwasher and turn to see Noah entering. His shift started a half hour ago. “Hey. Something wrong?”
“I forgot my phone.”
“Oh.” I grab the rag to clean the counter. “Hey, while I’m thinking about it, did you install those cameras?”
“They’ll arrive tomorrow.”
“Okay.” I shouldn’t still be suspicious of Kiki, but there’s a little part of me that is.
“And when I get her social, will you do a background check?”
“All right.” He claps me on my shoulder before heading up the stairs to get his phone.
I wipe the counters and go upstairs. I walk into Skyler’s bedroom and sit on the end of her bed. Kiki’s lying next to her reading her a bedtime story. This is the second night in a row that Skyler has had Kiki read to her instead of me. I’m glad she’s bonding so well with Kiki, but a part of me feels jealous that Kiki gets to share that with Skyler.
I mentally shake my head. That’s insane. I hired a nanny because I couldn’t do it all myself. And now I’m jealous that the nanny is doing what I hired her to do. I should be seeing a therapist.
The story ends and Skyler looks up at Kiki. Her brown hair curls at the ends, perfectly framing her adorable five-year-old face. A light smattering of freckles adorns her tiny nose and cheeks. She places her hand on Kiki’s arm. “Will you read to me every night?”
“Of course.” Kiki smiles at her.
“In the funny voices?”
“Yes.” Kiki nods.
“And you won’t leave?” Skyler’s eyes are wide as she stares at Kiki.
My heart jumps into my throat. Skyler was too young when Courtney left to really remember her. She’s only asked about her a few times. I always tell her that her mother loves her but couldn’t stay here with us. She had to leave. And now I’m wondering if that was the wrong thing to say. My mouth goes dry as I worry I’ve scarred my daughter.
Kiki swallows, and it looks like she’s getting emotional. I can’t quite tell if it’s because she feels bad for Skyler not having a mother, or if it’s for another reason. Instead of answering her question, Kiki kisses the top of her head. “I’m here right now,” she says, her voice froggy.
“Will you be here tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“And forever?”
Kiki wipes at her cheek. She’s crying. Why is she crying? I don’t like it. I stand and walk around the bed, ruffling Skyler’s hair. “She’ll be here tomorrow, and the next day. She’s your nanny. Now, it’s time to sleep.” I kiss Skyler goodnight.
Kiki slips out of the bedroom, and I finish tucking Skyler in before turning out the light and leaving. Kiki’s not in the hallway. I walk toward the stairs and see her standing just inside her bedroom. The door is cracked, and I can see her hunched over, her hand on her face.
“Kiki?” I ask quietly.
She jerks toward me, wiping at her cheeks. “What?”
“You okay?”
She takes hold of the door, like she’s using it to steady herself. “Yeah.”
It’s obvious she’s not okay. But I have no idea what to do. I want to fix it somehow. But I can’t fix it if I don’t know why she’s upset. I hope it wasn’t anything I did. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing, really. I’ve just had an emotional day.” She lowers her gaze.
Of course. She’s still upset about Violet. “Want me to make you a cup of herbal tea?”
She lets out a small laugh. “I can make herbal tea.”
“I know.” I’m not sure what to say. I wasn’t really asking if she wanted me to make her tea. I was trying to see if she wanted to come talk to me. But now I feel awkward saying that out loud. So, I just stand there.
“Yes. I’ll take some tea,” she finally says, hugging her arms.
“Come on. I’ll show you the selection.”
We head downstairs and enter the kitchen. I pull out the box with all the teas and she sorts through them, picking out a raspberry mint one. I choose a vanilla honey one and grab two mugs. I fill the tea kettle and set it on the electric base. “What’s your life’s ambition?” I ask, trying to fill the silence as we wait for the water to heat.
She shrugs. “I don’t have one.”
I take a step back, surprised. “None?”
A blush graces her cheeks. “I mean, nothing grand.”
“All right,” I say, letting out a chuckle. “Maybe I phrased that wrong. What do you want to be when you grow up?”
She stares at the kitchen floor. “My goals aren’t anything special.”
“They don’t have to be special. My goals are to not spend all my parents’ money, and make sure my brothers don’t end up in jail.” I smile at my joke, but she just stands there, her face pale.
I nudge her shoulder. “If you could do anything, what would you do?”
The tea kettle lets us know it’s ready, and I grab it, pouring the hot water into the two mugs. Kiki grabs her mug and holds it in both hands, still not answering me. The silence turns awkward. I figure she doesn’t want to share, so I change the subject.
“Do you want to go sit outside?”
“Sure.”
I lead her to the back porch. She goes to the porch swing. “That’s so quaint.”
“Go ahead.” I motion for her to sit.
She sits, then pats the seat next to her. “You can sit here, if you want. I won’t bite.”
I sit down next to her, chuckling. “Isn’t that what grandpas say?”
“Maybe.” She laughs, and the awkwardness from earlier evaporates.
An awning spans above us with small white lights. It’s almost twilight. The tide is coming in, and the gentle lapping of the waves is relaxing. She leans back and stretches out her legs, making the swing rock. “This is nice.”
“I used to sit out here with Courtney.” I clench my jaw. Why did that come out of my mouth? What’s wrong with me?
“What happened between you, if you don’t mind me asking?” She gives me a side-eye glance as she sips her tea.
A breeze blows off the water and it feels nice. I look at my lap. “We were too young. We never should have gotten married. I thought I was ready. I’d already taken on the task of raising my brothers. I thought having a wife would mean having one more person on my team. But it wasn’t that way at all.”
She peers at me. “How so?”
I shake my head. “She wasn’t mature enough for all the responsibility.”
“Why did you adopt?”
I lift my gaze to her face. Had I told Kiki I adopted Skyler? I was pretty sure I hadn’t. Maybe one of my brothers mentioned it. That had to be it.
“Courtney wanted a little girl. She said there was too much testosterone in the house. She can’t have kids, so we turned to adoption. I thought it would bring us closer.”
Kiki leans forward, gripping the edge of the swing. “But that’s not what happened.”
“No. She liked playing dress up with Skyler, but she didn’t want any of the work. When Skyler was six months old, Courtney had a melt-down and left the island. Just took off. I had no idea where she was. I was only twenty-four years old. I was raising my brothers and had a six-month-old to care for.” My fingers tremble at the memory. I grip my mug tighter.
“That’s terrible. Did she come back?”
“She did, twelve days later.” I clench my jaw, remembering the way she looked walking in, like nothing had happened. “She came in and asked when dinner would be. I just stared at her. I’d been worried sick. I’d called the police and everything. I couldn’t believe she could do such a thing.”
“Wow.” Kiki took another sip of her tea.
“We got divorced four months later.” I stare down at the dark liquid in my mug, remembering how alone I felt. And scared. Skyler was so tiny and had no one to depend on but me. It was almost as bad as the time right after my parent’s died. Almost.
Kiki placed her hand on my leg. “That had to have been difficult.”
“Yes.” I look at her hand on my knee and I notice the makeup on her wrist. I motion to her hand, too curious about it to pretend I haven’t seen it anymore. “Why do you cover your tattoo with makeup?”
She jerks her hand to her chest and stares at me. “You can tell?”
“Sorry. It’s kind of obvious.”
She slowly lowers her arm and peers down at her wrist. “I couldn’t afford the waterproof makeup.”
“But why cover it up?” Am I being too nosey? I feel like it, but yet, I don’t want to take it back either. I really want to know.
“It’s just very personal. And I thought you might—” She stops short, like she’s said too much.
“I might what?”
“Judge me,” she says, her gaze lowered.
I shake my head. “I wouldn’t judge you,” I say quickly, even though my own words slap me in the face. I’d called her a streetwalker and a drug dealer. Heat rises up my neck. I wasn’t nice to her when we first met. I’d been a jerk.
“I won’t judge you,” I repeat, regretting my earlier assumptions of her and resolving not to do it anymore.
She holds her mug with both hands. “I want to be a mother,” she says, her voice barely audible.
“What?” I say, not understanding.
“You asked what I wanted to be. What my life’s ambition is. That’s it. All I want is to be a mother.” She looks out at the ocean and swallows back emotion.
For some reason, this makes my own throat tight. “That’s a noble goal.”
“Growing up, everyone would ask what I wanted to be when I grew up. All my classmates would say doctor or teacher, but I never wanted anything else. I always knew my calling. I wanted to be a mother. The kind that would be there for her child.”
Kiki stops pushing the swing and doesn’t meet my gaze. She blinks, and I know she’s trying hard to hold it together, but I don’t understand. She’d make a great mother. She’s young and has her whole life ahead of her. Why would she think she can’t fulfill her dreams?
I clear my throat as I try to think of something to say. “Can I see it?”
She looks up at me, confusion on her brow.
“Your tattoo, I mean.” I point to her wrist, even though it’s obvious where it is.
She stares at me a moment. “Why?”
“I’m curious.” And I want to get to know Kiki better. She’s living with us, after all. And taking care of my daughter. And there’s something compelling about her I can’t put my finger on.
“All right,” she says slowly. She stands up and goes into the house. I hadn’t meant right that moment, but I’m pleased that she’s willing to share something like that with me. A tattoo didn’t seem like a big deal, but she wants to guard it for some reason.
The sun slips below the horizon, and I finish my tea. I set the cup on the table as Kiki comes back to the porch swing. She sits beside me and places her wrist on my leg.
An intricate phoenix with red and orange wings stretches across her wrist and up the inside of her arm. I gingerly touch one wing. She sucks in a breath but doesn’t pull away from me.
“It’s beautiful,” I say.
“Thanks.”
I slowly cradle her hand in mine and bring the tattoo closer to examine it. I trace along the bird’s body with my finger. Her skin is soft and warm, and touching her makes my heart do funny things in my chest. Then I notice the phoenix is crying. I lightly touch the teardrop.
“What does it mean?” I wasn’t going to ask, but the words came out anyway.
She shifts on the swing. The breeze catches her scent and the familiar smell of lilac mixed with the ocean reaches me. She looks at me, her expression hard to read.
“If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you.”