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“I don’t know how to take care of her. It’s dangerous leaving a child with someone like me. Just...think about it. Please.” He yanked open the door. “Thanks for helping today.”
She slammed the door in his face and snapped the lock shut.
Nathan threw open his apartment door and headed straight to the fridge. His beer opened with a hiss. Now what? If Cheryl refused, who else could he turn to—Daniel? They weren’t that close. His brother would tell him to clean up his own damn mess. Besides, Daniel and Bess were getting married this summer. He wasn’t stupid enough to suggest they take on a kid.
Tipping his head, he slammed back half the beer. How long would Cheryl let—his brain wouldn’t retrieve his kid’s name—stay? He finished the beer and pitched the bottle into the open recycling bin.
After four years, why would Heather insist he take care of their kid?
He dug through the bags, but couldn’t find anything that looked like Heather’s phone number.
He grabbed another beer from the fridge. What the hell should he do now? He kicked back in the lounge chair and drank.
* * *
SOMEONE SCREAMED.
Nathan jerked upright. The leg rest on the lounge chair snapped closed. Hell, he’d fallen asleep.
Another muffled scream came from next door. His heart hammered against his ribs.
Rushing down the hall, he tried Cheryl’s door. Locked. He pounded on it. “Open up!”
His only answer was another scream.
He raced back to his apartment and grabbed his keys, searching for the carriage house master key. No wonder his brother labeled everything, not that letters would have made any sense right now.
He shoved key after key into the lock. Finally one turned. He pushed on the stubborn door, promising he would fix it if everyone was okay.
Another cry broke out. He honed in on the sound and sprinted down the hall.
“You’re safe. You’re all right,” he heard Cheryl murmuring. He burst into the kids’ bedroom.
Cheryl jumped, his daughter in her arms. “What?”
“I heard screaming.” He searched the room for an intruder.
Fear filled Cheryl’s eyes. Josh stared at him like he was the burglar. His daughter shrieked again.
Nathan drew in a breath. “I thought someone had broken in.”
“You did.” Cheryl glared at him, handing him the girl.
“What? No!” He held up his hands and stumbled back.
“Take her,” Cheryl whispered. “Comfort her.”
“Shush now.” He took the kid and ran his hand hesitantly down her back She trembled like a bird cornered by a cat. What had made her scream? “Hush.”
Jesus. Now what?
Cheryl tucked Josh back into bed. “Go back to sleep, honey.”
Nathan bounced Isabella a little. Didn’t people do that with babies? But his daughter was four.
Her arms wrapped around his neck and her muscles softened. How could she trust him? He was a screw-up.
“I think she’s asleep.” He tried to hand her to Cheryl.
She shifted away. “Put her in bed.”
The sheets were pulled back, so he set her in the middle of her pillow. Isabella curled into a ball and whimpered.
“Rub her back.” Irritation filled Cheryl’s voice.
He did and Isabella relaxed under his hand. His tension eased with each stroke. Pulling up the covers, he tucked the sheets into the edge of the bed. His mom had done that. As kids, he and Daniel pretended they were caterpillars, tucked in a cocoon.
After joining Cheryl in the hall, he whispered, “What the hell was that?”
“Night terrors.” Cheryl put her fists on her hips. “How did you get into my apartment?”
“I heard screaming. You didn’t answer the door,” he shot back. “I used the master key.”
Her lip trembled. “Don’t you ever—ever—use that key again.”
He backed away. “Got it.”
There went his idea that they could work together, that she’d take on the role of nanny. That idea had come with his third beer.
Cheryl sniffed. “You’ve been drinking.” She said it like he was a serial killer.
“A couple of beers.” No big deal.
“Get your act together. You have a daughter depending on you.” She stalked down the hall to the kitchen and then pointed at the open door. “You didn’t even close the door!”
“I was worried.” How could he have known about night terrors?
“Out. Pick up Isabella by eight.”
Damn. Who would watch the kid tomorrow?
* * *
CHERYL TAPPED ON the top bunk. “Last call for breakfast.”
Both kids were exhausted from Isabella’s nightmare. Cheryl was tired, too. But the day wouldn’t wait.
She pulled back Isabella’s bedding and caught a whiff of urine. Great. “Time to get up, Isabella.”
She tugged off the little girl’s wet bottoms and led her to the bathroom.
Last night she’d washed Isabella’s meager laundry. When the girl was finished in the bathroom, Cheryl helped her put on the least stained clothes she’d found.
“Josh.” She shook his shoulder. “Unless you want to miss the camp bus, you need to move.”
He pushed off the covers, hung over the railing and dropped to the floor. “What’s that smell?” He pretended to choke, then headed for the bathroom, still gagging.
“Come on, Isabella.” She headed to the kitchen and the silent girl followed. She would deal with the sheets later.
She set her in Josh’s old booster chair and poured a bowl of cereal. By the time she was buttering toast, Josh joined them.
“That’s my chair,” he complained.
“And you’re too big for it.”
He took his toast to the table and started eating.
Cheryl quickly pulled his lunch together. Sandwich, apple, carrot sticks and a cookie.
“Can I have three cookies?” He turned those big brown eyes at her.
“Three? That’s too many,” she said.
“My friends like your cookies.”
“You’re giving them away?”
“I share.”
Great. Did the other parents know the kids were trading food? It was only for another week, so she tucked two more cookies into the bag.
Sipping her tea, she watched the kids finish their breakfasts. Josh had forgotten his resentment and chatted on and on. He even gave Isabella the last piece of toast.
The girl didn’t speak but she nodded every now and then. What would Nathan do with Isabella today? Not Cheryl’s concern.
At exactly seven thirty, the construction crew arrived. They were better than an alarm clock. Low voices murmured on the ground floor. She could measure the restaurant’s progress with each hammer strike and screech of the saw.
She wanted to work in Abby’s new restaurant, but she hadn’t gathered the courage to ask her boss. She’d hoped to take more classes, but that would bury her in debt.
“Brush your teeth,” she told the kids. Nathan should be here soon.
Right on time, she heard someone climbing the outside steps followed by a knock on the door.
She threw the dead bolt.
Nathan hadn’t shaved. His eyes were bloodshot. Had he been drinking all night?
Crossing her arms, she stepped back as far as she could to let him in.
“Did she have any more problems sleeping?” he asked.
“She wet the bed. You should buy Pull-Ups.”
He shoved his hand through his hair. “What the hell is a Pull-Up?”
“They’re a nighttime diaper,” she explained with a sigh. “Maybe Isabella wasn’t used to the bed.” Or to her father.
“Crap. I don’t have a clue what I’m doing.” He held out a hand. “Did you think about taking care of her?”
“I can’t.” She wasn’t taking on his responsibilities when she had so many of her own. “You’ll learn.”
His shoulders slumped.
“Josh,” she called, “we have to go.”
Nathan caught her hand. At his touch, an unwanted zing went through her body. She tried to pull away, but he hung on.
“I need help. I need... I don’t even know.” He squeezed her fingers. “Can you at least help me shop? Please?”
His brown eyes were darker than her son’s. Darker than Brad’s. At the memory of Brad’s laughing eyes, she yanked her hand away. “Josh, hurry.”
The kids came to the door. Isabella wrapped her arm around Cheryl’s leg, hiding from Nathan. He reached down, but the girl scuttled back.
“It’s okay.” Cheryl picked her up and handed her to Nathan.
“Please help me shop for her. I’ll...pay you. Twenty bucks an hour. For...” His voice trailed off.
He couldn’t remember his own daughter’s name? “Isabella.” She didn’t have time to get involved, but her heart ached for the frightened girl.
“Fine. You don’t have to pay me,” she said. “Just...buy me and Josh dinner.”
* * *
NATHAN PULLED CHERYL’S car in front of his parents’ house. Begging to use her car again hadn’t been fun.
Mom had agreed to watch Isabella during the day. At least until he found day care or his parents left for Pop’s monthly cancer treatments in Texas. He wanted to turn the whole mess over to someone more capable than him, but no one volunteered.
“We’re at grandma’s.” He unbuckled Isabella. She held up her arms and latched onto him like a monkey. His heart stuttered. He stroked her hair. “You’ll have fun.”
He wasn’t sure if he believed his lies. Fake it until you make it, right? That had been his motto in school. That or “Screw it. I don’t understand, so why bother?”
This time not bothering wasn’t an option.
“Come on, kid.” He hoisted her higher onto his hip. “You remember grandma from yesterday?”
She nodded.
Mom met them at the door. “Here you are. We’re going to have fun today.”
