“Hey, that’s not very nice,” Tess lightly scolded. “You ladies are waytoo young to be watching a movie like that, and I knew better.”
“It wasn’t even scary!”Lilly insisted defiantly. I chuckled lightly through the anger, remembering thehorror on her face when I’d walked into the apartment. “He doesn’t let us haveany fun. Not like you. He’s justmean.”
Well, that stung.
“Come on.” Tess’s tonewas harder while maintaining that gentle lilt. “I have only known your dad fora few days, but I can already tell you there isn’t a mean bone in his body. Heworksreallyhardfor you girls. Right?”
I released along-winded sigh and leaned my hip against the door, as my eyes focused on theopen fridge and found a cellophane-wrapped plate of mac and cheese, garnishedwith herbs and spices from the cabinet and last night’s chicken. Taped to thetop was a note that read my name:
Jon –
Thanks for giving me this joband a way to escape Grandma’s wrath.
– Tess
God.I really am a monster.
“I guess so,” Lillygrumbled. I could hear her pout.
“Youknowso,” Tess replied gently. Then,footsteps. “I had a good time with you girls tonight. I hope we can do itagain. Good night.”
Then, Annabel broke hersilence with a phrase that wrenched my numb, broken heart. Making it ache andburn in a way that screamed,I’m still inhere. I’m alive.
“Love you,night-night.”
***
I rarely cursed. Beth had forbidden mefrom uttering any of my favorite four-lettered words when she had becomepregnant with Lilly. She was determined to do her part in keeping our childrenfrom having potty mouths, and I went with it. Even in the presence of friends,I kept my foul-mouth to the occasionalcraporfreakin’, and even that was pushing it.
But tonight, after Tessleft and I put the girls to bed, I went to the kitchen to heat up the dinnershe had set aside for me in the microwave. As I watched the plate spin roundand round, I pressed my back to the refrigerator and muttered, “I’m such afreakin’ asshole.”
I hadn’t fired her theway I’d intended to, but it wasn’t necessary. She knew. I could hear it in theway she’d said goodbye, so morose and final, like it was the last time she’dever see me or my daughters. I hadn’t corrected her line of thinking either,andso, she had left. Without her wages and with the notionthat she should delete my number from her phone.
But that wasn’t eventhe worst of it. Sure, I’d felt terrible, the moment she’d walked through thedoor, because Tess was right; I’m not mean. Still, I hadn’t gone after her toapologize, because in some pathetic way, to run after another woman feltdangerouslysimilar tobetrayal. Instead, I went tosay goodnight to my daughters, where they all assured me of one thing.
They adored her.
It was then that I’drealized what a selfish piece of trash I’d been. I wanted to let Tess go,because ofme.Myfeelings,myhurt.Hell, I had hired her in the first place so thatIcould get a break from my mother, and not once had I consideredwhat was best forthem.
The microwave beeped,and I shoved away from the fridge to grab the plate of food. With it and aglass of water, I went to the table and plunked myself into a chair, weightedheavily by the shame of failing them.
“I’m worse off than Ithought, babe,” I mumbled to the empty room, poking my food around the platewith the end of my fork. “Maybe I really do need to talk to someone.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
TESS
Istared nervously into his warm brown eyes, shaken by the angry lines forming adeep-set W between his brows. Even when mad, he was attractive, but I muchpreferred him when he was soft spoken. Gentle and sweet.
“I’msorry,” I whispered, praying he’d accept my apology. Praying he’d revert to hiscalmer demeanor and tell me it was fine.
Buthe didn’t.
***
Inever thoughtI’dfind myself writing a romance novel. Yet, here I was, typing furiously anddesperately trying to capture every one of my thoughts before they disappeared.It felt amazing, to be struck with so much creative energy, but God, it wasoverwhelming. My fingers couldn’t move quick enough. My brain couldn’t processfast enough. I watched the typos land in the word processor, and although thetemptation to go back and correct the mistakes was fierce, I kept it moving.Kept on typing.
Grandma had told me togo out and find some inspiration. Who knew it would happen so quickly? Who knewit would come in the form of a nice dad and his three little girls?
