Page 18 of Wanting a Family Man

“Was that what his text was about?” Trystan glanced at the phone that had had them locking up theStorm Ridgeand walking up to the house. “It says, ‘Question mark t boxes.’ Does he think he gets charged by the letter? Why is he always so cryptic?”

“It drives him crazy that I can text way faster than him,” Emma said with a saucy smirk. “I like to pepper him with questions. Ask a new one while the little dots are showing as he’s trying to answer. I like to see how long it takes for him to just call. Four is his limit.”

“I knew you had a mean streak,” Trystan teased.

“I like him to call me. It makes me feel special,” she said with shrug and a glance at Cloe that said,You know what I mean. “So do you?” she asked Trystan. “Remember where you put them?”

“Crawl space or attic, I imagine.”

“Reid’s looking in the crawl space right now.”

“I’ll go nail the door shut, then.” Trystan thumped down the stairs.

Emma rolled her eyes and pulled a bottle of wine from the fridge. “Would you like a glass?”

“Sure. Thanks.” Cloe wasn’t much of a drinker, but she was still recovering from telling Trystan the worst parts of her life history. She’d had to repeat those details again and again for statements and on the stand. She’d been challenged and her story picked apart, her motives questioned and her character smeared.

Somehow, it was worse that he had accepted it all with only a grim look on his face and what sounded like sincere sympathy.

“Can I help with dinner?” she offered.

“Not really. The potatoes are in the oven. Reid will barbecue these later and I’ll make a green salad when Sophie gets here. I should’ve asked if you have any allergies. Biyen is vegetarian. I asked Sophie to bring an extra mushroom patty for you, just in case.”

“I eat pretty much everything.” She actually hated any savory dish cooked with fruit, but when you grew up uncertain about whether there would be food on the table at all, you ate whatever you were offered. “I appreciate you including me. Thank you.”

She accepted the glass Emma offered her and touched it to the one Emma held out.

“I should have said right away that I’m really sorry about Tiffany,” Emma said with an expression of chagrin and sympathy.

“Thanks.” Cloe nod-shrugged, appreciating the words while trying not to let the tsunami of grief do its thing and overtake her. “What, um, brought you here to nanny?”

“Divorce,” Emma said with a grimace. “I was a real estate agent at home. Good at it, too. But I needed a fresh start. Let’s sit down,” Emma invited, drawing her onto the deck and bringing the baby monitor with them.

It was a pleasant summer evening with the shadows lengthening and a fresh breeze coming off the water. Torn cotton clouds streaked across the horizon.

Emma curled one leg under her as she sat in a chair at the patio table. Cloe took the one across from her.

“We don’t have to talk about Tiffany if that’s too hard right now, but I thought you’d like to know that she wanted you to be here. Hiring me was more of a… I don’t know.” Emma frowned toward the water. “Wilf was generous with money in some ways, but not so much in others. He didn’t love the expense of a nanny. He was pretty sexist. He adored Storm and was super cute with her, but he never changed her or fed her so, like, how hard is it to look after a baby when you’re not the one doing it, right?”

“Sophie said she thought Tiff was happy, though.”

“They both were.” Emma nodded. “I mean, any nanny has a front row seat on marriage issues and theirs were pretty normal. Wilf griped about how much she spent on groceries. Tiffany nagged him to clean up after himself, but he rubbed her shoulders when she was nursing. They would cuddle on the couch while they watched a movie. Make jokes.”

“That’s nice to hear.” Misty emotion closed in around Cloe. “He was so much older, and he sounded like a bit of a player. I was worried.”

“Oh, he totally was,” Emma said. “I don’t think that’s up for debate when he had four kids by four different women. But he and Tiffany would say ‘I love you,’ and it sounded like they meant it. I think it was just hard for Tiffany because she took on the renovations. She was really stressed, but looking back, I have to wonder if some of that was worry about you. That’s not a guilt trip” Emma quickly put up a stalling hand. “I thought you’d like to know she was thinking about you is all.”

“I know she was.” Cloe rubbed her brow. “She wanted me to meet them in Vegas. I told her I couldn’t, but she insisted on getting married there, in case something changed for me.” Cloe’s heart was still in shattered pieces, feeling as though it was her fault they’d been in the air that day.

“At the time, I thought it was strange that she was so adamant about leaving Storm with me,” Emma murmured. “She didn’t really want to. It was stressing her out and Wilf asked her a bunch of times if she wanted to bring the baby. Bring me.” Emma hugged herself, probably thinking of the near miss she’d had in staying home.

Cloe had the feeling that Emma was tiptoeing toward asking the same thing Trystan had, but running footsteps sounded below, then began to clang on the steps up to the deck.

“Biyen,” Emma said with affection and turned her head as a boy of eight or so arrived at the top of the stairs, gasping for breath.

“Did I beat Mom?”

“No.” Sophie opened the screen from the kitchen, looking flushed.

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