Zero Forks - Cat Johnson Page 0,17
I would have happily strangled the man who’d gotten her pregnant and then broke her heart.
He knew it too, since I reminded him every one of the very few times I’d seen him since. Although it was in my best interest to keep him alive and healthy since the one decent thing the bastard actually did was pay child support. Not much since he had a crap job but at least it was something.
“No. Don’t disturb him.” Liza shook her head at my offer to wake Stewie. “It’s fine.”
She wasn’t fine, I could see that, but I didn’t argue. Instead, I moved to the heavily carved Victorian settee and sat.
Liza’s brows drew down. “Wait. That’s not your apartment. Where are you?”
I remembered a lot had happened since we’d seen each other last. “Um, yeah. My apartment was too small for us both. So I kind of rented a house for the next couple of months.”
“A house? Where?”
“Mudville.”
Her dark brows rose above eyes that were the same green as mine. “Mudville? Where the heck is that?”
I let out a short laugh. “Good question. It’s somewhere off the highway between your apartment and mine.”
“And you rented a house there why?”
“It’s commutable to my job. The price is right and the owner let me rent it month-to-month with no lease. It’s got a nice big yard for Stewie to play in. And—I don’t know—it just felt right. And Stewie seems to really love it here.” I shrugged.
“When did you move in?” she asked.
“Today, actually.”
She drew in a big breath. “Wow.”
Wow was right. And Liza didn’t even know the half of it.
The responsible thing to do would be tell her I’d also hired a manny. Even better, I should go get Boone and let her talk to him herself so she could feel confident he was a good choice to watch Stewie.
I didn’t do either. She had enough to deal with at the moment. At least that was the excuse I told myself. It wasn’t that I didn’t want her to know I’d somehow hired the hottest guy in town to not only babysit her kid, but also live in the same house with us.
To be fair, I had asked for references and I’d actually checked on them. I wasn’t completely insane. Yet.
“So where are you?” I asked, anxious to change the subject about my moving her kid to a new town without asking her first.
“A post in Germany. But not for long. We’re moving out again shortly.”
Moving out to someplace dangerous, I was certain. My chest tightened and my overprotective older sister side kicked in again. “I don’t want you to worry about anything. Okay? You just take care of yourself. I've got this.”
“Do you?” she smiled. “You didn’t sign up for having a three-year old twenty-four/seven. And I know you can kick ass in a board room but babysitting? I’m not so sure.”
“Hey.” I frowned and flashed her a mock stern glare. “I can dominate anything I set my mind to.”
“Says the woman who never had to deal with a rambunctious little boy.” Liza’s smile looked sad.
Her heart was breaking from missing her son. And the only thing I could do was offer words and promises to reassure her.
I’d have given anything to hug her right now.
“Liza. Seriously. We’re okay. I promise you.”
She nodded, her eyes glistening again. “I know. I believe in you.”
I was happy she had confidence in me, even if there’d been a bit this morning over oatmeal when I hadn’t had any faith in myself.
Liza glanced behind her. “I really gotta go. There’s a line to use the computer.”
“Oh. Okay. When do you think you can call again? I’ll try to make sure Stewie is around.”
“I don’t know.” She radiated stress, and now, so did I, but I did my best to hide it.
“Okay. We’ll make it work. Love you.”
“Love you too. Give Stewie a big hug and tell him I love him.”
“I will.” I hesitated, not wanting to let go of this small contact. Finally, I said, “Goodbye, Liza.”
“Bye.” Standing so I got an expanded view of her in uniform—still surreal an image to me—she leaned down, hit a button and the call disconnected.
My screen went blank.
I’d left my wine in the kitchen, along with Boone’s family. I weighed if one was worth dealing with the other. But I could really use a drink right about now after that emotional call.
Creeping toward the doorway, I listened. The only sound was that of the door to the backyard