going to the fridge. I threw some stuff onto the counter and Jim got the plates so we could make sandwiches.
“Yep. And to not get kicked in the nuts. I’d say it was a successful mission.”
“Jim, leave Emmitt be,” Winifred said, coming into the apartment. “How was she?”
“Nervous. Scared. But the longer I was up there, the more she relaxed. I think she’ll stay.”
“Why do you think that?” Winifred asked.
I knew why, and I hated it.
“Because she has nowhere else to go,” I said with a heavy heart. I didn’t want to trap her here; I wanted her to want to be here.
“Then we need to give her a reason to want to stay,” Winifred said in her no nonsense way. “Keep working in the apartment. You’ll make it a home.”
I nodded. Jim followed me up the steps, and we spent the next few hours working. The sounds from the apartment across the hall kept distracting me. The kids were growing bored, and Michelle was sounding at the end of her rope.
“Don’t even think about it,” Jim said when I took a step toward the hall.
“Why not?”
“She’s not ready to face you yet.”
“How do you know?”
Jim inhaled deeply and remained quiet. I inhaled, too. It was still there. Her fear.
“Fine. Go see if she’ll let you help her.”
Jim nodded, and I left the apartment. We’d done enough work on the new place for the day, and I didn’t want to be in there, listening to another play session. When I reached the bottom stair, I heard the boys run out onto the third floor landing. They cheered as they scampered down the steps and out the front door.
Shaking my head, I went to wash up. I’d just turned off the water when Jim yelled from upstairs.
“Michelle’s making dinner.”
Jim wasn’t subtle about anything, and I got his message loud and clear. I needed to get up there and help her. In seconds, I was dressed and in the hall.
As Jim raced down the stairs, he spoke softly.
“She’s stressed and exhausted and ready for a really big glass of wine.”
I went back into the apartment and took the bottle from the fridge. Since Jim preferred beer, I wasn’t sure why he had it. And I probably didn’t want to know.
With the wine in one hand, I raced up the stairs. My pulse sped at the thought of seeing her again. I stopped at her apartment door to knock, but forgot to when I saw her.
She was standing with her back to the living room as she stared at the contents of her refrigerator. Her dark hair was pulled back into her customary ponytail, but it wasn’t as smooth as usual. Little wisps had escaped. She turned her head slightly so I could see her profile. Jim was right. She did look tired.
She closed the refrigerator then opened the freezer and removed a large package of meat.
“Can I help?” I asked from the door.
She glanced over her shoulder to look at me. The pose, the angle of her head...I swallowed hard. She was so beautiful. So humanly fragile. So mine.
When she frowned and looked like she would say no, I quickly held up the bottle and hoped Jim knew what he was talking about.
“I also brought wine. Jim said you needed it.”
“One glass,” Winifred called up the stairs.
Michelle’s lips twitched at Winifred’s words. Seeing an emotion other than fear or worry had me responding with a grin and a wink. Then, Michelle surprised me further by nodding.
My pulse leapt again as I stepped into the apartment and made my way to the kitchen. Her humor faded, and she watched me warily. I pretended not to notice and didn’t let it destroy the moment. She’d let me in, and I was coming to realize it was two steps forward and one step back with her. She was prickly like that. It just meant any progress with her would be slow.
Finding the biggest glass in the cupboard, I set it on the counter and filled it to the top with wine. It would give Michelle the chance to drink as much as she wanted without me disobeying Winifred.
When I glanced at Michelle, I saw her worried look. Did she think I was trying to get her drunk?
“You don’t have to drink any,” I said.
She responded by picking up the glass and taking a large swallow before removing the meat she’d put in the microwave. I stood back and just watched her for a moment, basking