Page 21 of No Greater Love
He nodded slowly. "I'm aware of my limitations."
"They're not limitations. They're just... differences." I paused. "She's a really great kid, Nate. You're doing an amazing job with her."
Something shifted in his expression at the use of his first name. Something warm and surprised.
"Thank you," he said simply. "For today. For being there for her. For..."
"Handling the cervical mucus discussion?" I suggested, raising an eyebrow.
A real smile broke through then, transforming his face. "Among other things."
We stood there for a moment, something unspoken passing between us. Then Paige appeared in the doorway, her hair damp from a shower, dressed in fuzzy pajamas with planets on them.
"Dad?" she asked hesitantly. "Before Tasha goes..." She shifted from one foot to the other. "Could I maybe have her number? For my phone? In case I have more... questions?"
Nate blinked, clearly caught off guard. Paige had told me he had a strict policy about her Gabb phone—a basic device that only allowed calls and texts to a carefully vetted list of contacts.
"It's just," Paige continued into the silence, "sometimes there's stuff that's easier to ask another girl about."
I watched Nate's face as he processed this request, the internal struggle visible in the slight furrow of his brow. This wasn't just about exchanging phone numbers, this was about expanding Paige's circle of trust beyond the tightly controlled boundaries he'd established to keep her safe.
"I think that's a great idea," I said lightly, trying to ease the moment. "I promise not to share any state secrets or teach her how to hotwire a car."
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "That's exactly what I was worried about." He turned to Paige. "Go get your phone, sweetheart."
Paige's face lit up, and she darted back toward her room.
"Thank you," I said quietly once she was gone. "That means a lot."
"I trust you with her," Nate replied simply.
The words hung between us, weighted with significance. For Nathan Crawford, there was no higher compliment.
Paige returned with a simple phone in a purple case. As I added my contact information, I felt the responsibility that came with this permission. This wasn't just about being available for period questions—this was an invitation into their carefully constructed world.
"All set," I said, handing it back to Paige. "Text me anytime, okay? Even if it's just to talk about books or complain about homework."
Paige clutched the phone to her chest, beaming. "Thanks, Tasha!"
"I should get going. Got plans tonight."
It was a lie, but the intensity of whatever was happening in that quiet living room was becoming too much.
Nate's face fell, disappointment flashing briefly before he composed himself. "Are you— ahh. I… of course." He walked me to the door. "Tasha. Really. I don't know how to thank you for this."
"Buy me coffee sometime," I said, the words escaping before I could think better of them. "Good coffee, not the ER sludge."
He blinked, surprised, then nodded, a hint of renewed warmth in his eyes. "Deal."
As I drove home, I found myself smiling at nothing in particular. The day had been unexpected in every way—especially in how much I'd enjoyed being part of the Crawford family's world, even briefly.
My phone buzzed as I pulled into my apartment complex:
Unknown
Hi Tasha it's Paige Crawford!
I saved the contact before responding:
