“Did you want to saysomething else? Or can I …” Tess pointed over her shoulder toward the open doorof my daughters’ bedroom.
I nodded and cleared mythroat. “Um, yeah. I just wanted to say thank you.”
“Thank you?” She made a face as though she was offended. “What areyou thanking me for?”
“Are you kidding me?” Iguffawed, running a hand over my hair. “Jesus, Tess … you’ve already been ahuge help. The girls love you, you brought them cereal, you make them dinnerthat isn’t,” I thrust a hand toward the kitchen, “plain macaroni and cheese orpasta and sauce. For crying out loud, you came over here at nine o’clock lastnight, just totalk to me. So,please. Don’t ask what I’m thanking you for. It should be pretty obvious.”
Tess’s eyes met mine,and I wondered why I’d never noticed before that they were such a light, nearlyethereal, shade of blue.
“Jon, you don’t need tothank me,” she replied with sincerity. “I did what any other friend would’vedone.”
Friend.She’s my friend. The realization struck me in the center of mychest like a lightning bolt. I’d been trying so hard to keep this arrangementprofessional, but she was impossible to repel, and somehow that felt okay. Itfelt good, to have afriend.
My hesitation to showher gratitude had gone, leaving behind an insistence to press my point. “Exceptthey don’t. Not what you do, anyway. I don’t think …”
“Daddy, fix it!” Shellyemerged from the room with a decapitated Barbie in hand and spotted us in theliving room.
I smiled at her overTess’s head. “Hey, honey, I’ll perform surgery in just a sec, okay?”
“Okay.” She leanedagainst the wall and flicked her finger over the neck of the doll.
“Um, Shelly,sweetheart.” I crouched to the floor and smiled into her watching eyes. “Tessand I are having a, uh, a grown-up conversation, okay? Can you please wait inyour room?”
“You wantprivacy?” Shelly asked, emphasizingevery syllable.
“Yes. Exactly.” Inodded. “So, can you go—”
“Lilly said Aly’s Mommyand Daddy need privacy when they have grown-up conversations, too. In theirroom.”
My mouth fell open inshock for a moment before catching myself. “Uh, right. Yes.” I nodded, andflashed Tess a grimace. “Mommies and daddiesdohave private conversations, and so dofriendsand daddies, or uh … babysitters. Except in living roomsand kitchens.”
Shelly nodded withfour-year-old understanding, and left the wall, heading back into her room withthe headless Barbie in hand. I stood up and turned to Tess with a dumbfoundedexpression on my face and saw that she was biting back what looked like a laugh,judging from her reddened cheeks.
“That was the mostbizarre and awkward prelude intothatconversation,” I grumbled with a shake of my head. “And what the hell is thisAly kid telling my daughter?”
Tess led the way to thekitchen. As she went, she tossed over her shoulder, “Nice save with the livingrooms and kitchens, by the way.”
“Yeah, until she growsup and finds out how many daddies cheat on mommies with the babysitters,” Imumbled in reply, shaking my head.
“Touché.” As shelaughed, she started moving around the kitchen, putting things away. “So, whatwere you saying before?”
“I was, uh …” I watchedher move. She seemed to float gracefully through the kitchen, light on herfeet, and dancing without any music. She was hypnotic as she opened cabinetdoors and stood on her toes to put away our clean bowls from that morning. Ishould’ve offered to help, to do it for her, but she was stunning, and I wastransfixed.
“What?” She glancedover her shoulder, pulling me from my trance, and I swallowed those feelingsdown. I needed to stop. This wasn’t good. It wasn’t right.
“I just wanted you toknow how much I—we, how muchweappreciate you.”
After a slight smile,her lips stretched in a wide smile. “It’s nice to feel appreciated by someone.”
I knew there was moreto that statement that she wasn’t saying, but I had to leave for work. It couldwait until another day. I tapped my fingers on the counter, filling the airwith a light tune, and said, “By the way, I’m going to start applying for someother jobs in the next couple of days, so I might ask you to be here while I goon interviews, if that’s okay.”
“Uh,” she hesitated,biting her lip as she put spoons into a drawer, “well, you know I have Grandma,and—”
I shook my head. “No, Iknow. I mean, obviously if it interferes with your schedule, that’s fine. I canfind someone else, it’s no problem.”
“Well, just keep meposted and maybe we can work something out. I can talk to Tim and see if heminds working a few extra hours,” she replied with a small smile.
I returned the gestureand turned to leave, to tell the girls I loved them and to tell them goodnight. But then, I stopped. I faced her again and worked my jaw from side toside, finding it unreasonably hard to tell her what I wanted to say. Tesslooked up as she closed the utensil drawer.
