Page 52 of Suddenly Entwined

Berg

Caro didn’t have to say she needed time and space. I sensed it. I must have crossed a line the other night. A touch on the hand is innocent at face value, but there was intimacy in each of my movements, and she felt that. I’ll have to reign in the feelings I’m having toward her, because they must not be as reciprocal as I thought. The girls are on a Sunday afternoon playdate and the house has been quiet without them. I tried blasting music and catching up on housework and even called my sister to chat. But there’s not a distraction in the world that will help me forget Caro is right downstairs. And while I know I shouldn’t be on her doorstep, I find myself wandering there anyways. I’m drawn to her presence, despite my better judgement, and that’s how I find myself on her doorstep witha brush in my hand. I knock and wait, running the bristles over my palm while I shift my weight anxiously.

I’m no better than my daughters. I’ve explained to them that Caro has days off. I’ve even had to mark Saturday and Sunday on the calendar so that the girls know to leave her be on the weekends. Yet, here I am, unable to go a single day without seeing her smile. When she answers, comfort washes over me. Her curls are wound into a blue scrunchie on top of her head. Tight leggings skim over her curvy thighs that lead my eye to her bare feet with those damn pink toenails that match my daughters.

“So, youdoknow how to knock.”

Amusement lights her eyes.

“I’m working on it.”

I clear my throat, remembering why I came down here in the first place.

“Are you busy?”

She gives me one of the smiles that hits me square in the chest.

“What would I be busy doing, Berg?”

“You could…you could be having a date,” I suggest.

“A date?” She gestures to her outfit and laughs.

“Yes. Girls your age date.”

And when they do, it’s usually not a forty year old dad of two.

“Probably overdue for one. You want to come in and help me swipe?”

My hand clenches around the pink plastic, the bristles leaving impressions on my skin.

“You have those apps?”

The idea of a stranger from the internet showing up to hang out with Carolina makes me sick with worry. Jealousy sparks in my chest at the thought of another man holding her in his arms and kissing her goodbye in the morning before work.

“Don’t you?” she counters and I stammer.

Clicking her tongue when I don't answer right away she says, “Guess you should have checked when you had my phone.”

I’m reminded of the messages from the guy I’ve never heard her mention. Is he someone from an app?

“Womenmy age do date, Berg. But, alas, I am not currently on one. How can I help you?”

“I want to learn how to braid.”

Dean’s admission that braiding was ‘easy’ rubbed me the wrong way. If he can learn, so can I. Her facial expression morphs until she looks like she’s just witnessed a newborn fawn in the wild.

“Yeah, I can teach you how to do that. I mean, I’m not an expert. I’m sure Anna could teach you fancier braids than I can.”

“Fancier?”

“French, Dutch, fishtail.” She lists the options on her fingers.

My face falls flat.

“But basic works too!” she says, sensing my overwhelm. “You want me to come a few minutes early tomorrow morning so that I can walk you through it on Natalie? Louisa is pretty wiggly.”

The tips of my ears heat.

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