Page 7 of The Manny

“Morning,” he said cheerfully, no hint of last night’s displeasure evident. He had a small suitcase beside him and an overnight bag on his shoulder.

“Good morning. Come on in.” I stepped aside, and he brushed past me to enter the house. His cologne was nice, citrusy and light. I was a bit irritated I noticed that little detail about him, but there was no denying he was an attractive guy. Annoying as shit, but attractive. “I’ll show you your room.”

“Thanks.”

We sure were being polite with each other. It was a nice change from last night. I led the way down the hall and opened the door to what would be his room. It was next to Mia’s, but slightly larger.

He pulled his suitcase into the space and dropped the shoulder bag on the bed. “This is much nicer than expected.”

I frowned. “Really? Do people not usually give you nice accommodations?”

He glanced at me. “I should have said bigger.”

“Oh. Yeah, the house has a lot more square footage than you’d think from the outside.” I cleared my throat. “Sorry you don’t have your own private bathroom.”

He shrugged. “No biggie.”

“Do you want to see Mia’s bedroom?”

“Sure.”

I led the way to her room, pushing open the door. I’d done my best to think about what a little girl might like. I’d painted the walls a bright white. That way, if she wanted to hang posters, or change the color of her comforter, she could without it clashing. “I looked at some kid’s magazines to get ideas.”

He looked pleasantly surprised. “Did you?”

“Yep.” I glanced at the bed covered in a fuzzy pink duvet, with matching pillows. I’d chosen a white, horizontal dresser, so she could easily reach all the drawers. I was pretty proud of myself and what I’d accomplished in a short amount of time.

“You did a great job. Since she’s only five, she probably won’t care too much what her room looks like until she’s older. When she’s a teenager, she’ll have lots of opinions.” His gaze was curious. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d put this much effort into her room.”

I wrinkled my brow. “I keep telling you I’m going to take care of her. I’m just not pretending I’m capable of being overly affectionate.”

“Hmmm.” His gaze was searching. “Maybe there’s hope for you yet.”

“Very funny.” I turned my back on him. “She should be here any minute. Maybe you should unpack or something.”

“Good idea.” He followed me out of the room and headed back to his.

I went into the living room, not sure what to do with myself. Was this how I’d always feel from now on? Like a guest in my own home? I decided to finish up the morning dishes while I waited on Mia’s arrival.

At ten minutes after 8:00 a.m. the doorbell rang. I pulled in a steadying breath and headed to answer it. Thomas joined me, although he stayed behind me. When I opened the door an elderly woman stood on the porch, holding a small blonde girl in her arms. I caught my breath because Mia looked so much like Jules. She had the same corn-colored hair, full lips, and sky blue eyes.

“Mr. Wayan?” The older woman asked.

“Uh… yes. That’s me,” I muttered.

“I’m Mrs. Jones.” She glanced at the little girl clinging to her. “This is Mia.”

I smiled tentatively at Mia, still shocked at how much she resembled her mother. I hadn’t expected it to hurt so much seeing her, but it was actually really painful. This was Jules’ child, but Jules was dead. Gone forever. “Hello, Mia. I… I’m your uncle.”

Mia nodded, but her hands clutched the older woman’s shirt. It was obvious she was scared. Of me. Of the situation. She looked completely lost.

“Why don’t you come in?” I moved aside to allow them to pass.

“Thank you.” Mrs. Jones came into the house slowly. “I have Mia’s suitcase in the backseat of my car.”

“I’ll go get it,” Thomas offered brightly. “I’m Thomas, by the way. I’ll be Mia’s manny.”

“Oh. That’s wonderful.” Mrs. Jones set Mia down and shook his hand. “I’m so relieved Mr. Wayan will have help.”

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