“Very nice to meet you. And to answer your question, I have four daughters.” Her lower lip quivered before she erupted in another bout of tears, joining the chorus of her crying baby on the monitor.
Tim stood, shocked by all the crying and was suddenly embarrassed by the ripe smell coming from his sweaty body taking over the small space. He glanced at the monitor and made up his mind. “Where’s the baby’s room? Let me help. And before you ask, yes, I know how to change a diaper.”
Jessica looked up at him with wide eyes and didn’t hesitate. “Upstairs, first door on the right.”
Chapter Two
Jessica knew who the lumber-jack-of-a-man Tim McGill was. She had seen him on and off their property for well over a year, tending the ridiculous landscaping her husband insisted on. Stephen Kaufman was all about keeping up with the Jones’s, often forking out loads of cash to keep the curb appeal of their sprawling home immaculate. But outward appearances were deceiving.
With swollen eyes, she picked up the manila envelope and scanned the address label for the umpteenth time—knowing what was inside. Stephen Kaufman was officially her ex now, her copies of the signed divorce papers delivered via courier an hour ago.
Jessica didn’t know how she would feel when it was finally over. The past year had been horrendous. Stephen had blatantly cheated on her with a girl from work named Traci; twenty-four-year-old Traci with an “i”. When Jessica came back early from a weekend away with the girls and walked in on them in her master suite, fucking like horny teenagers, she knew it was the beginning of the end. The man was a bad husband—and a bad father, audaciously vocal to her attorney about not wanting so many kids; that the divorce was all her fault because he was surrounded by what he called “chaos.” And he was adamant he wanted a son, something Jessica obviously couldn’t give him.
Half of their marriage, she had spent pregnant, desperate to provide Stephen an heir. Now she was a single mother of four daughters under the age of six. Poor baby Joanne, “Jo-Jo” as she was affectionately called, was nearing her one-year birthday, having never really been around her father for more than an hour or two at a time.
Jessica had gone into the marriage with her parents’ exuberant blessing because the Stephen they knew was handsome, educated, and had money. He was also a shrewd businessman and a workaholic. Having witnessed what her own mother had endured while married to her success-driven father, she had a vague idea of what she was getting herself into marrying Stephen. He was a successful real estate mogul—a prominent figure in the Atlanta business world. Looking back on their years together, she realized raising this man’s children by herself were some of the loneliest years of her life. Without genuine companionship from the man she was betrothed to, she lived without a partner, for the most part.
In the beginning of their relationship, it was different. It was new and exciting. Stephen wanted her to be the quintessential country-club housewife, joining the various clubs and tennis teams, getting her hair and nails done weekly while hosting elaborate glamorous parties in their million-dollar home. They seemed happy at first, Stephen showing off his blonde bride proudly at the public galas and business dinners his company hosted. But after she had their first daughter, she devoted all her time to her newborn, which left Stephen in a jealous wake. With each subsequent pregnancy, they became more and more estranged; Jessica’s focus primarily on her precious daughters. Stephen openly complained about all the pink and spent more and more time at the office or away on business, blatantly ignoring his growing family. Having four babies definitely took a toll on her body, which only exacerbated the situation. After going through the excruciating steps to divorce during the past year, Jessica felt like she was one-hundred years old.
Leaning back against the giant economy pack of paper-towels on the floor in the pantry, the sound of Tim’s voice distracted her, the low timbre soothing as he spoke calmly to baby Jo-Jo over the monitor. She watched the video screen, captivated by his behavior. This was a man who had obviously been around children.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, Little-Bit. You sure are a cutie.”
Jo-Jo looked like a tiny baby doll in Tim’s massive hands. She giggled and cooed, having her own gibberish conversation with him, which made Jessica smile. Her children were bright and energetic, always ready for the next adventure. Baby Jo-Jo never met a person she didn’t like. The eleven-month-old, her snuggliest child, brought joy to her cloudy world. Whether Stephen Kaufman wanted them or not, these children were meant to be.
Glancing at the envelope again, she sighed. At least she got to keep the house and was granted full custody of the girls. Her lawyer fought for a substantial settlement because of Stephen’s infidelity. Even though she had signed a prenup, she won, much to Stephen’s disappointment, his hurtful indiscretions biting him where it hurt the most—his wallet. She and her daughters would never have to worry about money again. For that, she was grateful.
Exhaustion permeated her bones, and she closed her eyes, knowing she had a million things to do around the house and dinner to prepare. Her mother often chastised her for not hiring a full-time nanny to help with the overload four little ones brought on. But Jessica didn’t want someone else to raise her children. She had a sweet housekeeper who came in once a week and had occasionally done some babysitting while she was out with her girlfriends or attending beautification committee meetings at the club. She preferred to be a hands-on mom and loved the monotony of a long day at home stretched out before her, wondering what kind of adventure she and the girls could get into. She was lucky she didn’t have to work full time, allowing her to focus on her children. Sure, she could afford the luxury of having full-time help, and sometimes she did hire a sitter other than her housekeeper. But playing and taking care of her kids on a daily basis was a dream-come-true, and she never took it for granted. With the divorce finalized, she could finally get on with her life.
Jessica must have nodded off because she woke with a start and anxiously looked around the pantry, trying to come to her senses. She stood on wobbly legs and opened the door, shocked to see her daughters lined up along the marble-top bar happily eating.
“Mama!” her third daughter, Jilly cheerfully shouted. “Tim made us mac-a-groni!” The two-year-old’s face was covered in cheese sauce, her smile radiant beneath the mess.
She scanned the room and her eyes locked in on the man who tended her rhododendrons. He was sitting on the ottoman folding the last of the towels she had pulled out of the dryer earlier. Gone was the dirty baseball cap, his long hair falling dramatically over his shoulders. He had cleaned himself up and had changed out of his landscape uniform into a black t-shirt and camouflage pants. His large feet were bare and his biceps bulged. It was a striking contrast to the smelly, sweaty man in uniform who’d entered the pantry earlier. The toys were all picked up and placed in bins neatly stacked under the window near the sliding glass doors. The fast food trash was gone as well as the pile of dirty dishes she had been meaning to get to.
In awe, she strode over to him. “What have you done?”
His smile faded as he looked up at her with the greenest eyes she hadn’t noticed before.
“What do you mean? We had a little cleanup party, that’s all. The girls helped and then told me they were hungry. I was going to let you know, but you were in the middle of a little cat nap. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
Jessica swallowed hard, his random act of kindness catching her off guard.
“Mama, you want some pasta? It’s really good.” Her oldest daughter Jennifer always looked out for her. These past few months it was as if she knew her mother was on a dangerous ledge about to jump.
“No, baby-doll. Not right now. I’ll have some later. Promise.” Her comment appeased the child. She watched as Tim stood, his incredible height making her bend her neck all the way back as he stood tall. With her mouth hanging open in wonder, she stepped back. “How tall are you anyway?” she innocently asked.
A slight smile played on his lips before he hoisted the laundry basket on his hip. “I’m six foot five.”
“Wow,” she muttered. “You’re as tall as a Georgia pine.”
Tim’s brow creased as he tried to stifle a smile. “You could say that,” he replied sheepishly. “Where do you want the towels? You got a linen closet upstairs you want me to put them in?”
Jessica was suddenly embarrassed. “No, no. You don’t have to do that. Please.”
He tilted his head while he looked down at her. “I promise, I don’t mind.”
She swallowed again and could only nod.
