Right now, I’m getting myself a waffle cone filled with strawberry ice cream. I can’t remember the last time I had an ice cream cone. Probably the last time I was back home in Honeysuckle Harbor last summer.
I’m standing in line when I hear, “Grayson? Hey, man, what’s up?”
I turn and find myself face to face with Ford Anderson, one of my high school classmates. “Hey, Ford, good to see you.”
We were friends and have bumped into each other over the years, but I haven’t been great at keeping up with people from my past. I’ve poured all my time and energy into my business.
“I heard you were back in town.” Ford glances at the stroller I’m resting my hands on. “With your daughter.”
“We don’t know for sure she’s mine,” I say, automatically. I’ve been saying that since the second I clapped eyes on her.
At first, because I was terrified she was, but now, I think it’s because I’m starting to get nervous that she’s not. I don’t know how I will react if the DNA proves she’s not.
“Uh, she looks just like you,” Ford says, giving Evelyn a grin. “Hi. What’s her name?”
“Evelyn. I’m actually interviewing a nanny in a few minutes,” I say. “Life is strange, right? How have you been?”
“Excellent. Harrison and I have a restaurant, Raw. I met the love of my life. Her name is Ivy. We live together with Harrison and his husband, Liam, because we’re all together.”
I remember Ford’s best friend Harrison. He was a great guy, easy-going and charming. “Together, together?” I ask, a little surprised, though I’m not sure why. How the hell would I know anything about Ford’s personal life or sexual preferences?
“Yep. Well, not me and Harrison.” Ford grins as he rocks back on his heels. “I’m here grabbing some pints of ice cream for after dinner tonight. Gotta keep the polycule happy. Harrison can be a real asshole when he doesn’t have his mint chocolate chip.”
“That’s great,” I say, sincerely. “I’m happy for you. For all of you.” I want to ask if the good people of Honeysuckle Harbor have been rocked to the core by a foursome openly living in town, but it seems like a rude question to ask. I don’t want to put him on the spot.
“Let’s get together sometime soon and catch up,” Ford says. “My sisters—do you remember Frannie and Fiona?—they’re hosting a bonfire next weekend. Got to get them in before fall arrives.”
In my hometown, “let’s get together” is real, not a fake suggestion like it is in my usual adult life back in New York. “I’d love to, but I’ll have to see.” I gesture to Evelyn. “Bedtime is seven-thirty.”
Ford nods. “Got it. I’ll text you though.” He gestures. “You’re up.”
“Oh, right.” I order my cone and turn when I hear the doorbell jingle. I think the woman walking in is who I’m meeting.
I now realize I’ve put myself in the awkward position of having ordered myself an ice cream cone and not offered to do the same for this girl. Plus, now I have to try to interview her while licking ice cream. Jesus. I’m really off my game. I blame it on sleep deprivation and lack of sex.
Grabbing an ice cream cup from the counter and a spoon, I tip the scoopers and dump my cone upside down in the bowl. Then I chuck the waffle cone in the trash. I feel pretty fucking sad I’m not going to be able to eat it, but hopefully I can refreeze the ice cream and salvage it.
I can’t drink alcohol these days, so I’m holding onto anything I can with both hands.
The daytime nanny candidate is glancing around, searching for me. I walk up and introduce myself. Her name is Jane, and she’s quiet, but she seems competent. I ask her if she wants anything, but she shakes her head rapidly. We sit down and I ask her some basic questions. It seems difficult for her to speak comfortably to me, which is concerning, but whenever she interacts with Evelyn, her face lights up.
She asks if she can hold her and when she takes Evelyn out of the stroller, my daughter goes with her readily. Evelyn touches the strands of long hair framing Jane’s face.
“She’s so sweet,” Jane says.
We’re sitting at a table and I ask, “Are you available long term? I don’t want different care providers in and out of Evelyn’s life more than is strictly necessary. She’s already had enough change and trauma.”
“Where’s her mother?” Jane asks. “If you don’t mind sharing?”
“She isn’t interested in being a part of her life,” I say, and for the first time, the enormity of what that means for Evelyn really smacks me in the face.
This innocent, adorable baby won’t have a mother in her life, through absolutely no fault of her own. That fucking sucks. I feel a surge of protectiveness and love.
It’s a good thing I’m sitting down because the force of it threatens to knock me over.
“Oh, no,” Jane says softly. “I’m so sorry.”
Jane has kind eyes and natural nurturing instincts, that’s obvious.
