is eyeing her, one eyelid lowered in a suspicious squint. “Okay, well, Carly was at the pub today.”
“Carly?” Charlotte asks, her voice warming. “Aww, I miss her. She rocked! Did you say hi for me?”
“More than that,” Susan says. “She’s coming to babysit in December.”
Charlotte and Ginny go very still.
Maggie does not. She looks straight at her mother and crosses her arms. “She can’t babysit here. It’s Deek’s job.”
Susan finger-combs her hair behind her little ears. “It won’t be anymore, honey. Deek has a life he’s putting on hold for us. It’s not fair to ask him to do it forever.”
“But, Mom…” Charlotte says, mouth opening and closing like a fish, her gaze shooting between Susan and me like she’s at a ping pong match.
“But what?” Susan asks.
Ginny puts a restraining hand on Charlotte’s shoulder, because on Sunday when I admitted to them that Susan is my anamchara, I explained that I’ve been forbidden from telling Susan that she’s my soulmate.
I didn’t tell them to tell her for me, because I’m above using children like they’re proverbial love notes written on Lisa Frank notebook paper to be passed during class.
(Yes, I know what Lisa Frank school stuff is. I was born in a wolf den, not a barn.)
I also didn’t instruct them to tell Susan because I’ve become convinced that Finn is right in regards to directness. If I stood, walked to Susan right now, and declared to her that she’s my soulmate? She’d panic. She’d retreat, probably try to tell me that I’m mistaken.
I’m not.
She’d probably imagine a million scenarios of how badly a future partnership between us would burn down to the ground—all because she’s been burned so badly she can’t see any hope or point in risking herself again.
I understand why she’s got walls. Unfortunately, I don’t know how to help her over them yet. In order to convince her that we make a good team—we already make a good team—I need to convince her that I’d never hurt her. I’ll never betray her, never dishonor her, never abandon her.
She can trust me. She already trusts me with her family—now I need to convince her that I can be trusted with her heart. Somehow.
Susan is watching the girls like she thinks they’re acting a little crazy and she can’t quite put her finger on why that is. When Charlotte seals her lips and averts her gaze, Susan looks confused but turns her attention to me. “Annnyway. Back to the topic.” Her smile, which is where my gaze is aimed, is sad. Seeing the downward bow and tight creases of it tugs my eyes up until my stare is locked to hers.
Gently, she says, “I guess this is the beginning of goodbye.”
CHAPTER 40
SUSAN
Following my announcement, I thought Deek might be quietly pleased. Instead, he looked like a bomb had gone off.
The vibe throughout the whole kitchen was weird. Maggie was pouting—she doesn’t remember Carly at all, so she can imagine no one better than Deek. Really, Deek’s so honest-to-goodness good with her that it’s no wonder she’s developed prejudice against having anyone but him around. It’s going to be hard to fight her misgivings.
But even Charlotte wasn’t enthusiastic—and she loved Carly.
Deek himself though? He was being more than his characteristic quiet self. He was almost… troubled.
On one hand, I’m surprised. You’d think this would be great news for him. But on the other hand, it secretly warmed my heart a little. Okay, more than a little. It says a lot about how nice a guy he is that he’s not looking forward to the day when he gets cut loose from playing an awesome babysitter for us anymore.
When the girls retreat to the backyard to play on the trampoline (surprisingly not after consuming ice cream—hearing the news that Deek will be leaving put Maggie in such a terrible mood that she said she wasn’t hungry anymore), I head to my room to change into regular clothes.
Hair up in a knot, sporting leggings and a wine-colored layered tunic with an artfully uneven hemline, I pad into the kitchen and pull the cranberry juice from the fridge.
I nudge the door shut with my hip, revealing Deek.
I gasp and drop the juice.
“Sorry!” Deek groans, catching it with an effortless yet lightning fast grab.
Laughing, I take it back from him. “Déjà vu.”
His eyes meet mine, questioning.
“When you first got here. You spooked me and I ended up wearing my tea.” I gesture at myself. “At least this time it was a closed