Page 25 of Suddenly Entwined

I hold out towels for the girls and lift them out of the tub onto the damp bath mat. I suck in a breath of air through my teeth. “That’s a tall order, girls. Hard to find women that are into good old-fashioned colouring these days.”

“Caro said she likes to colour.”

Aaaand, there it is. Oh, boy.

She’s nice, pretty, and so much more. The soapy water swirls as it drains, the smell of lavender bubbles and the weight of Caro’s name lingering in the humid bathroom.

“Carolina is my tenant. And Daddy is much older than her.”

“How much older? Is she a teenager?”

I sputter, nearly choking on my spit. “No. No, she is not a teenager. I think she’s…twenty five?”

I can see Lou trying to do the mental math on that, but Natalie is faster.

“That’s fifteen years different.”

Yes, yes, it is. Thank you, dear daughter. Which is why whatever ‘feelings’ I’ve had for Caro is simply sensible protectiveness over a woman living alone in my house. She’s one of my best friends younger sisters, for god’s sake. Of course I’m going to look out for her. Although, looking out for someone probably shouldn’t involve imagining what her hair would feel like under my palm or what her lips might taste like.

“Jammies, both of you,” I say, using another towel to mop up the puddles on the bathroom floor.

When a pretty woman rescues your daughter from a barnyard animal, you’re going to be fond of her.

Fondness? My stomach swoops. Yeah, right. This feels like a whole lot more.

***

With a fresh beer, and the girls fast asleep, I settle against the pillows on my bed to watch the sports highlights. Except I can’t focus because our bath time conversation about dating and marriage has me rattled. I’m not opposed to the idea of falling in love again, but I didn’t know it was something my children were contemplating. I blow out a long breath. If the girls are thinking about adding someone to our family, does that mean I’m falling short? I’m gauging whether I have the energy for a workout before bed, when I hear a sharp crash. My head whips toward my bedroom door and I’m on my feet in a second. That sounded too far away to be coming from the girls’ room.

“Caro,” I breathe, halfway toward the front door before I even realise what I’m doing.

Moisture soaks through my socks as I rush down the steps and knock on her door. With my head on a swivel, I strain my ears to hear anything else coming from inside.

Could it have been a sound on her tv? Or maybe next door?

I put my mouth close to the door. “Carolina!”

I can see light through the window, but she isn’t answering. There’s a yelp from somewhere inside and my mouth goes dry. I briefly consider breaking the damn door down when I remember that I totally saw her enter her code. Relief courses through me when the mechanism whirs and the door swings open.

“Caro? Are you here?”

The sound of water pouring from the bathroom draws my attention and I scrunch my eyes shut for a moment. What if she fell and hit her head? I know full well that there’s a tile shower bench in there that could easily become a hazard if you fell the wrong way. For the second time today, I’m having visions of medical emergencies. Giving a cursory bang on the door and calling her name again, I finally get a reply.

“Berg?”

Blame it on the panic, or being a dad, or the intrusive thought of her with a fucking head injury. But I barge into the bathroom at the sound of her muffled voice. Steam fills the space, a stark contrast to the temperature outside.

“Oh, my god!” Caro screams. “Berg!”

The shower door is open, but Caro isn’t in it. She’s standing on a bath mat in front of the sink, trying in vain to cover her naked body. But instead of running right out of the room, I see the glint of broken glass on the shower tile and the trickle of diluted blood tracking down her left wrist and forearm. What’s more, there’s a massive, angry bruise covering most of her shoulder. All that pale skin fades into the background when I see that she’s hurt.

“Where the hell did you get that bruise?”

“No wonder your freaking kids don’t understand how doors work! I’m naked, Berg!”

I’d laugh if I wasn’t so upset by her injuries.

“I couldn’t care less, Caro.”

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