“Uh.” I blinked. Once,then twice, trying to catch up, while my brain was busy wondering how exactlysomeone could look so simultaneously fun and yet put-together. “Yeah, sure.”
“Well,” she steppedpast me into the apartment, her shoulder bag swinging haphazardly from herfist, “only my grandma calls me Tessa. So,you,”she pointed a finger over her shoulder, aimed directly at me, “can call meTess.”
“Okay.” I nodded,hoping she couldn’t hear the battle of wills going on inside my head and heart.“Tess.”
And it hit me, at thefirst pass of that name against my tongue—Tess.It was an acknowledgement—a warning, even. Telling me that life as I knew itwas going to change.
Readyor not.
I tore my gaze away andclosed the door, aware of my shaking hands and unsettled heartbeat. “So, thegirls are playing in their room. I have a box of mac and cheese on the counterfor dinner.” I turned to face her as worry furrowed my brow. “Wait, you don’tmind cooking, do you? I didn’t think to ask.”
She dropped her bagonto thearm chair, her smile unrelenting. “Nope, notat all. I cook every day for Grandma.”
“Right,” I replied,feeling immediately like an idiot for not remembering her grandmother. “How didit go finding her a home aid, by the way?”
I was attempting smalltalk, but then … was that too personal? Why couldn’t I have mentioned theweather, or better yet, continued the topic of the girls? I could’ve told herAnnabel woke up with a runny nose. I could’ve mentioned that being aroundShelly today was equivalent to walking on eggshells. That’s what Ishould’vesaid, and instead, I made itpersonalwhen this was strictlybusiness.
Tess emitted a groanand threw her head back. The strands of her shaggy hair fell further intodisarray, and shamefully, despite all those reminders of this being aprofessional (not to mention temporary) arrangement, I watched until her eyesmet mine again.
“Well, we met with acouple of people from an agency yesterday and finally settled on this one guythat she and I both liked. But today, she realized that he’s gay, which Ithought was pretty damn …” She narrowed one eye and asked, “What’s wrong?”
I hadn’t realized I’dtensed at the word. I guess old habits die hard. “Oh, it’s just that I don’tcurse around the girls.”
Her lips fell open intoa shockedObefore she slapped a handover her mouth. “Oh God, of course. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine,” I insistedand truthfully, it hadalwaysbeenfine to me. To me, they were just words, but to Beth …
God, just the thoughtof her name still pinched at my heart.
“Um, anyway …” Tesscontinued, shooing away her embarrassment with more conversation. “I thought itwas pretty obvious when we first met Tim, but apparently, it was lost onGrandma. She’s a little more, um, shall we say, conservative? She’s nothomophobic or anything. She just thinks that this is newsworthy, for whateverreason, and now I’m worried the poor guy is going to be harassed all nightabout hisqueerness.”
I chuckled at that,finding my smile behindall ofmy worries and guilt.“Well, how much damage can really be done in a few hours?”
“You haven’t spent anytime with my grandmother.”
“Touché,” I replied,keeping my tone light despite the battering ram in my chest.
It felt like too much.It felt like I was trying to get to know her, and why? Why did any of itmatter? She was watching my daughters for one night only, and then we’d neversee her again.
I nodded brusquely andtrained my eyes on the bathroom door. “So, I’m justgonnaget ready for work.”
Makeyourself at home. Make yourself comfortable. The appropriate sentimentswent unsaid as I moved forward, stepped around her and headed toward the showerto wash all of this away.
***
Monday nights at Jeff’s club weren’t themost profitable nights.
I played my way throughthree hours of covers, originals, and spontaneous melodies, while the drinkersand diners listened. Every song was ended with only asmatteringofapplause. I wasn’t expecting much,I never did, but the tips were meager and that always hurt.
Afterward I sat at myusual spot at the bar and Jeff handed me a beer. “Hey bro. First night withTessa, huh?”
I nodded, watching therivulets of condensation zigzag over the glass. “Yep.”
I hoped he wouldn’tcontinue, hoped he’d just leave it alone, and as if the universe was on myside, for once, he did. Instead, he barreled into ranting about his ex-wifeagain, while I pretended to listen. Dreading what waited for me at home.
And I continued todread it, as I later slid the key into the lock, growing more and morediscomforted by the nausea weaving in and out of my gut. This was it. I wasgoing to fire someone for the first time and after their first day, too. Ididn’t want to. This wasn’t me. I’m not a mean guy. I’m notcruel, but this … this felt cruel. Shewas nice, sweet, and the last thing I wanted was be the reason why she’d gohome to her grandmother and very possibly cry.
But still, keeping herwasn’t an option. It was just too much.