Chapter 24
Liam
"Roo! The rest of your friends are here!" I call up to the four of them already tearing up Ruthie's hangout space when I see three girls pile out of Kenzie's mom's car. The anxiety I was carrying finally settles.
Thankfully—or not—all six of the girls showed up today.
If they hadn't, Ruthie would have been devastated, and I would have had to hold back unexplainable anger toward a group of soccer moms. But I guess my gratitude should really go to Tessa—not only did she set everything up, but whatever she said at practice must have worked. They're here.
"Hey guys," I say, pulling the door open.
The three girls offer me closed-lip smiles, gift bags hanging from one arm and duffle bags on the other as if they were copied and pasted on the ride over. "Ruthie's upstairs." I step aside to let them in as a stampede of the others clunks down the steps to meet them.
I turn my attention away from the group and back toward Kenzie's mom as she strides toward me in a low-cut top and painted-on jeans.
"Hey, Elle. Thanks for bringing the girls.
" She offers me the same forced smile—just with less of her face moving naturally—and I try not to overthink it.
"Ruthie's so excited for the sleepover."
"Kenzie too," she says, pulling one arm across her chest. My eyes dart away the second I see cleavage.
"Alright, well, I'll make sure I have the girls ready by ten tomorrow morning unless you need them to stay longer."
"Oh, no, that's fine." She glances behind me, then steps up on her tip-toes to get a better view inside the house.
"Do you, um, want to come in?" I offer.
Her feet fall flat as she shakes her head. "Oh, no, that's okay. But Kenzie has her phone if she or any of the other girls need anything."
She arches a brow like that's secret code for something I clearly don't understand. "Sounds great," I say, tipping my chin up in faux understanding. "And you have my number from the RSVP if you need anything."
Her cheeks turn pink, which makes me immediately uncomfortable.
"For Kenzie," I add quickly. She tucks her bottom lip between her teeth and gives me a very unwanted once-over.
"If you need to get a hold of… you know…
just in case you—okay, great," I ramble, now even more anxious to get her off my porch. "We'll see you tomorrow, Elle."
She smiles more genuinely this time, peeking over my shoulder once more as I slowly close the door. When it clicks shut, I lean against it, my head lolling back into the wood as I let go of a breath I had to hold so I wasn't smothered by her perfume.
"You okay?" Tessa asks, coming out of the living room where she was setting up the spa.
My senses heighten—the same way they've done all day when I'm reminded she's here. And like I have every time, I force them down. "I think so?" I answer, a shiver running down my spine as I picture Elle's last expression. I laugh, kicking off of the door.
I haven't fully wrapped my head around the idea of Tess living here. Right now, it seems like she's just helping with the party. But technically, she's been here all week, even if I haven't. That could end tomorrow, though, and I may not even need to come to terms with it.
The problem is, I'm too afraid to ask because I'm not sure which answer I'd be hoping for.
"Thanks again for helping with this,” I say, my hand dragging down the back of my neck.
"Liam, you've said that like ten times this week," Tess replies.
I chuckle, lifting one shoulder. It's true. I texted her every day I was gone to tell her how much I appreciate her being here—and how glad I am that our house is still bug-free. Of course I meant both, but whether saying so was just an excuse to message her… I'll never tell.
"I know, but I really do appreciate it."
Now she’s the one who shrugs. "Well, thanks for letting me stay here."
I peer down at her. "You've said that like ten times this week."
She smiles coyly. "I know, but I really do appreciate it."
A moment lingers between us—one of many that I've questioned since the hotel room last weekend.
Part of me wants to talk about it—I need to know if she has to actively stop herself from thinking of us too.
But I'm also happy to ignore it. Who knows?
Maybe the tension growing here will start to fade.
Maybe it will disappear completely.
Tessa's eyes darken, and my lips fall open.
Or maybe not.
"Tess…" I hear myself saying.
Her face beams with hope.
"I—"
"Dad!"
Ruthie and all six of her friends come barreling down the steps. She leads the pack as they all but crash into us.
“Ooh, Tess! You’re back.”
Tessa and I search one another's faces, her swallowing hard and me clearing my throat.
A few of the girls look at her too, then each other. Ruthie notices. “You guys know Tessa, right?”
“Is that your girlfriend?” Kenzie asks me casually, as if the question doesn’t set my insides on fire.
“Oh, no,” Tess jumps in, her whole demeanor different. She nudges Ruthie with her elbow. “I’m just the nanny.”
Her eyes flit to me.
"She’s more than that,” Ruthie says—for both of us. She smiles up at her. “Tess is the best. She put all of this together. We’re gonna paint our nails and do face masks. She even ran back out for cucumbers to put over our eyes and everything.”
I watch as the girls' faces scrunch into smiles, the three who just arrived slightly less enthused than the others. I can't help but grin as Ruthie leans in to give Tess a side-hug.
"Where's your mom?" Janie, one of the new girls, asks suddenly.
Ruthie's eyes dart to the floor as her closest friends grow quiet. My throat tightens the same way it always does when someone brings up Ruthie's mother. It's not a secret that she isn't involved in our lives, but it's not something she likes to talk about either.
There's not really much to say.
"Hey," Tessa jumps in, leaning into the group. She lowers her voice as if she's spilling a secret. "Do you guys want a snack?"
Instantly the question's forgotten—at least by the young ones—and Ruthie's entire mood shifts. "Ooh, Dad! Did you get the cinnamon rolls from Drippy's?"
My stomach sinks again. I knew I was forgetting something. I'd meant to pick them up last night when I got in, but our flight got delayed and they were already clo—
"They're in the fridge," Tess says, her voice warm and effortless. "I even asked for the icing on the side so we could goop them up ourselves."
"Yes!" Ruthie squeals, springing toward the kitchen, six sets of socked-feet scurrying after her. Tessa watches them.
And I watch her.
"Thank you," I sigh, my words barely audible amidst the giggles and screeches. My confession nearly gets caught in my throat. "I completely forgot."
"It's what I'm here for," she says matter-of-factly, but she's wrong. She didn't have to do any of this.
"Dad, Tess, come on!" Ruthie shouts over the pre-sugar chaos.
My world stops for a beat, warmth flooding my chest like it does sometimes when I realize my not-so-little girl still wants me by her side.
Tessa looks up at me, and for once, the space between us doesn't buzz. It's calm. "Let's go," she says, curling her hand around my arm and pulling me with her.
I smile, and it clicks. Ruthie called her too—wants her too.
And holy shit… so do I.
More than I know I should.
Standing at the bottom of the steps, I savor the hum of silence that hangs in the air. For the last two hours the girls have done nothing but laugh, yell, squeal—everything they should be doing at a twelve-year-old's birthday party. But my God, my ears are ringing.
Tess volunteered to clean up the mess while I set up the air mattresses and took snack orders for the girls. It's finally movie time, and I'm praying this calms them down a little. Not because they're too much, but because I might pass out before them at this rate.
When I reach the top of the stairs, Ruthie barrels past me, all but knocking me back down the steps. "Hey, where ya goin'?"
She doesn't answer, probably on a mission to get the snacks herself—or sneak another cinnamon roll.
So, I continue toward the hangout space.
I knock on the door, waiting for the other girls to call me in.
When they do, the room falls silent, and I realize how much of a buzzkill it must be for the parent to join the party.
"I'm not staying," I promise, my hands up as I head toward the closet. "Just setting up the mattresses." A few of the girls whisper amongst themselves as Kenzie continues scrolling through the movies on the TV.
We stay like that—them huddled together and me awkwardly in the corner allowing the hum of the air pump to nearly put me to sleep.
Once the second mattress is full, I slide them both toward the screen, curious what's taking Ruthie so long.
She can add the sheets so I don't have to stay here for even another minute.
"There ya go, girls," I say, heading toward the door. "Have fun!"
I purposely keep the door open, knowing I don't plan to linger but still need to make sure everyone's alive and well. Their chatter increases as I make my way down the stairs, but instead of fading by the landing again, there's the buzz of a whole different conversation coming from the other room.
I round the corner, heading back toward the kitchen, but no one's there. Tess is gone, and Ruthie isn't digging in the cabinets like I suspected she'd be. Instead, my daughter's voice floats through the crack in the barely-open powder-room door.
"She said her mom almost didn't let her come because there was only a man in the house. And what if one of us needed something?"
Tessa's voice follows, soft but steady, hitting me in the chest. "Well, you know your dad would do anything for you guys." There's a pause, then she continues quietly. "I know it's not always the same."
Ruthie sniffles, and the sound nearly breaks me.