13. Nice To See You Again
Chapter thirteen
Nice To See You Again
Maria
The following week…
“No offense, but I never expected to see you again,” I say as I take my seat. Being invited out to lunch by the doctor who delivered Chelsea’s babies isn’t something I’d ever expect. I have no clue what this is going to be about, but my curiosity demands to be satisfied.
“Don’t plan on having any children?” Edward Gutierrez jests, his mug of warm tea hovering just near his lips. I feel the heat rise in my face and I quickly gesture to one of the servers.
“I’m... too busy taking care of other people’s kids.
And it’s not as if I’ve met the right person yet.
” It’s still too early to tell if Oliver and I are even going anywhere.
After the funeral and his hotel stay ended, he moved back home, which is about two hours away.
But we’ve still been texting each other.
It’s hard to tell the tone sometimes, though, and it’s not the same as in-person conversations.
He just hasn’t said anything yet that would make me believe we’re together.
“That’s exactly what I want to talk to you about. I heard through the grapevine that you work as a live-in nanny?”
“Yes...?”
“Good. Good. Uh, my recent circumstances have made me a new parent and since I’m working at the hospital all the time, I want to find someone I can trust and who knows what they’re doing.”
“Oh! Uh, if I knew that’s what this conversation was going to be about, I would have brought my credentials with me.”
“No need. Miss... Mrs? Chelsea Fisher vouched for you and your skills, and told me all about the work you’ve done with Grace before the loss of her parents. As well as after.”
“I... I can’t take all the credit for that. Chelsea was the one who helped her start speaking again. I was only...”
Wait, why am I trying to downplay myself? This man is trying to offer me a job. Why wouldn’t I want the money?
“Sorry, I’m just... I’m still recovering from the loss of my... friend. When would you want me to start?”
“To be honest, how free is your schedule?”
The server soon returns with our drinks and interrupts the conversation by asking for our orders.
I treat myself to a shrimp alfredo, while my soon-to-be employer orders a goat cheese and spinach salad.
I try not to dedicate too much interest to his choice; people can choose to be healthy when they want to be.
“I can speak to Chelsea later this afternoon and see if my schedule with her can be adjusted, but I don’t see why I can’t start before the end of the week.”
“Brilliant! Perhaps after lunch, you’d like to meet Alexander?”
Alexander. That’s a nice name.
“Why... isn’t he here with you?” I ask.
“He’s only four and he’s a bit shy. We’re still starting to get to know each other and I don’t want to overload him with new faces.”
“Four’s not a bad age. Do you know if he’s ready for kindergarten?” While eating my pasta, one stubborn noodle slaps some sauce onto the end of my nose. I try to wipe it away before he notices.
“I have no freaking clue. I only deliver babies, I don’t know the first thing about raising them.” He chuckles nervously and takes a healthy sip of his water.
“Do you mind me asking about these... circumstances?”
Being a new father for almost a month isn’t something anyone can prepare themselves for. Edward’s concerns are well-founded and demonstrate that he’s put a lot of thought and questions into how his new life with his son is going to function. It’s better than having no plan at all.
I’m standing outside Edward’s apartment door, waiting until he says it’s okay to come in. I can hear a small voice asking a lot of questions on the other side, but can’t make out what they are.
Sounds precocious already.
“You can come— oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to yell right in your face. He’s ready to meet you.”
I nod gracefully and step inside. I remember when Grace was four.
She was riddled with questions about how everything worked in the world, far too many for me to answer in a day.
Curious little creature she was and still is.
Now she has the opportunity to learn all those answers from her teachers at school.
A small, dark-haired boy sits on the couch, his tiny legs hanging over the edge. His eyes widen and he leans closer to Edward when I enter the room. I take no offense to it; he’s just a shy child trying to make sense of who I am.
“Hello, Alexander.” I take a seat on the floor in front of him. “I’m Miss Bailey. It’s nice to meet you.”
He looks up at his father, who nods encouragingly.
“Daddy says you’re going to live with us?”
“Kind of. I’m going to be here to take care of you when he can’t be here because he has a very busy job.”
“So you’re going to be my new mommy?”
Edward and I shoot glances at each other, our cheeks both turning red at the same time.
“N-no, I’m not going to be your mom. Just a friend helping out and making sure you’re okay. You’re going to be starting school soon, aren’t you? At the end of summer?”
“I am!?” His expression is a mixture of delight and fear. “Mommy says that’s where I’ll start making friends.”
“Your mommy sounds smart. Now why don’t you and your dad show me your room? I’d like you to show me what your favorite toy is.”
He hops off the couch with a wide smile and toddles off down the hallway. Edward looks at me with a sigh of relief.
“You make this look so easy. You’re a natural.”
“Hardly. It took years of patience to learn how to speak to children without coming across as demeaning. They’re still people too, you know, and a lot smarter than you think.”
Getting to know Alexander a little more tells me that he’s going to be a pretty easy kid to take care of. Save for a few socialization issues, he’s right on track when it comes to getting into kindergarten. Whoever’s been taking care of him for the past four years has done a pretty good job.
Before I know it, it’s already dinner time, the sun setting behind the buildings and drowning the city in darkness. I didn’t expect to stay here this long. It’s a good thing I didn’t have any other obligations today.
“Would you mind staying for dinner?” Edward asks from the kitchen. I can smell the beginnings of a meal being prepared.
“I couldn’t impose. You already paid for my lunch.”
“Well, if you’re going to be staying here a lot, you might as well get used to my cooking. I need an honest opinion around here, other than the way I make chicken nuggets in a microwave.” He shoots a glance at Alexander, who is none the wiser about this conversation.
“Please stay,” the little boy chimes in. He runs up to me and grabs my hand. At least he’s warmed up to me quickly.
“Well, how could I go home after that kind of an invitation? What’s on the menu tonight?”
“For the little man, some vegetable mac and cheese, some apple sauce, and some water. For us, how do you feel about a sushi bake?”
“I can’t say I’ve heard of it, but I’m willing to try anything at least once.”
Before and during dinner, Alexander asks me more questions about kindergarten and what he should expect when he goes there. I’m sure he won’t remember any of this in five months, but I’m not going to deny him knowledge if he’s asking.
“That was wonderful!” I pick up the empty plates and carry them to the sink once we’re done. “You’ll have to give me the recipe for that.”
“And give you fewer reasons to stick around for dinner? Hardly.” Edward chuckles and helps Alexander out of his booster seat.
“Come on, you, it’s bath time and then to bed.”
“Aww, but I wanna know more about school.”
“There’s always tomorrow, kiddo. Hey, you might even dream about school.”
Alexander grumbles and his mouth twists to one side.
“That doesn’t sound like fun.”
They disappear into his bedroom as I take care of the rest of the cleaning up. It’s the least I can do for all the hard work he put into making it.
Then there’s a sudden pounding on the front door.
“I think someone’s here,” I call out. I don’t feel comfortable answering someone else’s door.
“One sec. Can you come help Alex pick out his PJs?”
“Sure.”
The boy’s room is pretty sizable for someone his age, but not too big that he’d get lost in it. It’s a good size for him to adapt to as he grows and needs bigger furniture.
“Love the green,” I say in passing.
“Thanks. Some people think it sucks,” he says with an eyeroll.
“Well, those people have bad taste. What are our choices tonight?”
Alexander starts pulling out a couple of pairs of pants in different colors and with different animal patterns on them. I try to keep my attention on him so that I can give Edward the privacy he needs to take care of whoever’s at the door.
“What are you doing here?” I hear him ask, low and gruffly. His “guest” isn’t someone he wants to see, apparently.
“What, I can’t stop by for a conversation?”
I recognize that voice.
“Sure. If you call first. I’m kind of busy at the moment.”
“With your kid? Just give him a coloring book and some crayons, and you’re golden.”
“Drake...”
That’s it.
“I need someone to talk to, Ed. Things have gone to shit—”
“Hey. Please don’t use that kind of language in my house.”
“I don’t see the problem—”
“My son, my house, my rules. You don’t have to be here if you don’t like them.”
This isn’t the kind of conversation Alexander should be listening to.
When I check in with him, he’s staring at the door, wide-eyed and frozen.
This isn’t good.
“I’m going to get your dad to help you, okay?” I squeeze his shoulder and quickly step outside to get a better assessment of the situation.
The room goes silent when I enter. A familiar face stares at me, slack-jawed.
“You.”
“Edward, I think it would be better if you helped him out,” I strongly suggest. Edward doesn’t hesitate to retreat from the living room to attend to a more important matter. In passing, I whisper “he’s terrified” so that he knows what he’s in for. He freezes and shoots a glance over his shoulder.
“You mind taking care of him for me?”
“Is he okay?”
“He’s been out of sorts as of late. Just talk to him until I’m done with Alexander. Sorry to ask this of you, it’s not exactly what I’m hiring you for.”
“You could always pay me overtime,” I jest. That seems to bring a smile to his face before he disappears.
“Huh. I didn’t expect to see you here.” Drake stumbles further in and slumps onto the couch with a weird smile on his face. “Long time no see.”
“It’s nice to see you too. How have things been at the hospital?” The air suddenly feels tense in here and I don’t know why.
“Ha! Funny you should ask that. Just as depressing as ever. People come in, they die, rinse and repeat.”
My brows furrow together at his blase attitude about the whole thing. The last time I saw him, he was emotionally broken after Ben died. Now it sounds like he doesn’t even care anymore.
“You can’t mean that.”
“Why not? The only reason I keep going is the paycheck now.” He drags a hand down his face. His eyes don’t look right. As if they can’t focus on any one thing in the room.
“I think you should talk to someone if that’s how you feel about your job,” I suggest, eager for Edward to return so that I can promptly exit this conversation.
“Speaking about work... Ever since we hugged at the hospital, I’ve liked you ever since. You’re so calm and sweet and caring, and I wanted nothing more than to take your tears away. I’ve been looking for you ever since, until...”
His expression turns sour, and he averts his gaze.
“You know what? I should be going.” I’m not sure I want to hear the rest of this conversation. “Tell Edward I’ll call him tomorrow.”
I cross the room to get my purse from the couch when he grabs my wrist and pulls me off balance. I land on the couch right next to him, half-draped across his thigh. I gasp in surprise and throw one arm around him to save myself.
“S-sorry...”
I don’t know why I’m apologizing; it’s his fault!
None of that matters anymore when I meet his gaze. Glassy and longing, the edges of his eyes are tinted red. I can’t tell if that’s from exhaustion or crying.
Or something else.
His breath is warm against my lips, hovering mere inches from mine.
The couch seems to fall out from beneath me and my head is starting to hurt and spin at the same time.
The memory of our last kiss reignites in my mind and plays out: the way he tasted, his feverish hands touching my body, fumbling with my dress, his fingers pressed to my mound, ready to tease my entry.
I don’t know why I’ve forgotten that moment, why I’ve pushed it to one side and covered it up. I blame the trauma of everything going on at the time and turning me into an emotional wreck.
Yet, his current state has soured my memory. He’s different, and not in a way that I like.
“I should go,” I whisper as I plant a hand on his chest and lightly push him away. It was a mistake the first time and I don’t want it to happen again.