Page 31 of Hot Shot

I nod. “I’ll get it ready for you before you get here in a couple of weeks.”

She chews on her lip. “What if I get scared? Or I…I don’t want to sleep alone once?”

My heart breaks at the thought. I wonder how often she’s slept with her grandparents since her mom died. “How about I make up a little bed for you in our room? If you get scared, you can come sleep with me and Cass.” I brush away the thrill that Cass is going to be in my bed nightly.

Cricket nods once, but still looks uncertain.

“We can get you registered at Roseville Elementary. Cass is one of the first grade teachers, so you won’t be alone.”

“Really?”

Cass smiles, pretending perfectly that she’s not even more shocked at our circumstance than I am. “Really. And I’ll have to check, but I’m almost positive you can be in my class, if you want to.”

At that, hope glimmers in her.

“And Cricket, I want you to know,” I start, “that if you change your mind, if you ever decide you don’t want to stay with me, you don’t have to. Okay?”

The corners of Cricket’s lips rise. “Okay.”

Cass extends her hand to Cricket. “Want to come pick your room?”

She slides off the couch and takes Cass’s hand with a nod, and they’re off in the direction of the bedrooms. When she pauses, unsure of herself as to which direction to go, I’m thankful I opted for the little Craftsman and not a big house in one of the planned communities outside of town. Otherwise I’d have to explain why my wife didn’t know her way around her own house.

Patty and Paul stand. For a few minutes, we chat. Thank each other a bunch, though I’m not exactly sure what for. I’m so fucking tired, I could drop on the spot.

When Cricket and Cass return, I’m grateful.

We say our goodbyes, watching as they get into Paul’s truck and drive away.

And then I close the door. Turn around.

Cass looks as exhausted as I feel, pretty as ever in that pink sundress. But she turns for the kitchen and starts talking before I can say anything.

“Okay,” she starts. “Okay. So, we need to get her room ready. She picked the one with all the workout shit in it.”

“Okay.”

She stops in the kitchen to assess the cabinets. When she picks one and opens it, she makes a triumphant sound, reaching for a glass and heading to the fridge.

“Can I help pick out the stuff for her room?” she asks.

I trace the valley of her pale back with my eyes, wishing I could swipe her ponytail over her shoulder so I can see her neck. “Of course.”

“Good.” When her glass is full, she brings it to her lips, hand on her hip as she turns to me.

I’m fucking mesmerized by the sight of her in my kitchen, doing something so mundane as drinking water.

She’s practically panting when she finally sets the half empty glass down on the island. “I’ll make a shared wish list, and you can get her whatever you want off it. Let’s see. We’ve got a week and a half. It’s Saturday, and school starts Wednesday after next. I’m slammed next week with meetings…what’s your work schedule?”

“I’m in Monday, Thursday, and Sunday, then next Wednesday.”

“Okay. If we can get everything here by Sunday, I can come over and put her room together while you’re at work.”

I frown. “You don’t want to…do some of that together?”

Instantly, I regret the assumption.

Her face flattens. “No, I don’t want to play house with you all week after you lied to me for a third of my life.”

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