I grin at him and shake my head. “It’s all right. As hard as I try to keep the language clean, I wouldn’t be surprised if this one can spell the F word before preschool.”
“That would be impressive.” Vito jerks a hand toward the parking lot. “Ma sent over some food. She will kill me if I let it go bad. Be right back.” He dashes away, closing the hotel door behind him.
Once he’s gone, I heave a huge sigh. God, he’s gorgeous. Adorable. Hot. Sweet. How on earth is this man single?
That’s when it hits me.
He lives at home with his mother and father. He’s, like, really old not to have his own place. My tummy clenches as I think of all the things that are probably weird and broken about him. Maybe he’s bad with money and in debt up to his eyeballs. Maybe he’s irresponsible or can’t cook. He has one dress shirt, for God’s sake.
I square my shoulders and take a deep breath. This isn’t a date. This is a new friendship. And anytime my instincts start looking for anything more, I’ll just remember that he’s probably a mama’s boy with terrible habits who would make the world’s worst partner, lover, husband. That’ll keep me from going into overdrive.
“Knock, knock.”
I hear his voice call through the door as he raps lightly. I let him in again, but this time, I step back so there’s no chance for a second awkward hug. Besides, there’s no room to get close to him. He’s carrying a brown cardboard box that looks like it weighs twenty pounds.
“What on earth is all this?” I ask.
Vito laughs and lifts a brow at me. “Lunch, dinner, and a hell of a lot of snacks.” He sets the box down on the small kitchen table and points to it. “Leave that here. I need to do something first.” He looks around the small living room, squinting dramatically. He seems to make eye contact with Juniper but then looks away. He cups his hands around his eyes and squints, then calls out in a loud voice, “Juniper? Juniper? Are you here?”
He strides into the kitchen and opens the dishwasher, then pretends to call into the racks. “Juniper. Juniper?”
While he wanders the extremely small living space of the hotel suite, Juniper lies with her face on the couch cushion and just blinks at this silly goof of a man.
He’s playing a game with her that probably every child knows, but it strikes me in a really deep place. Nathan’s never met his daughter. Wanted her gone before she even existed. And this man who’s met her once is already playing with her and giving her his time and attention.
I shake my head to clear the confusing feelings and remind myself he’s probably a man-child. Don’t believe everything you see, I tell myself. He’s a gnome. A mama’s boy.
“There she is.” Vito says, clapping and dropping to his knees. He points to Juniper once he’s on her level and waves. “Hiya, kiddo. Remember me? I’m your mama’s friend, Vito. Vito,” he says again slowly.
“Veeloo,” she echoes, a dribble of drool spilling past her lips.
I grab a cloth diaper from her go bag and blot her lips. “Vito, baby,” I say, enunciating the T. “Can you say hi?”
She holds out her arms to Vito, and I cock my chin at him. “Is this cool?”
“More than cool,” he says. He picks up Juniper, gives her a quick hug, and then sets her on the floor. “I’m going to put some food away, but then maybe we’ll have some time to play?”
She waddles after him like one of the children enchanted by the Pied Piper. But I’m no better. I’m in a daze for this man as much as my daughter is. We stand in the kitchen holding hands while we watch Vito get to work.
“It’s good you’ve got all the amenities here,” he says as he unloads plastic containers with labels on the lids into the fridge. “Full-sized appliances. So much better than those dorm-sized jobs most hotels give you.” Once he’s done, he turns the cardboard over, strips the tape from it, and breaks the box down flat. “You got recycling here? I can take this back to my parents’ if you don’t know.”
I watch him make himself at home in my little space and can’t quite explain what I’m feeling. In all the time I was with Nathan, he came to my place hundreds of times. We ate out, brought home leftovers, and he never once so much as remembered to bring leftovers in from the car, let alone put anything in my fridge. He wouldn’t even help himself to a glass of water.
To be fair, he never stayed more than a couple of hours. Never a whole night. But I don’t know how to feel about Vito showing up and just being so at ease.
It’s like he’s comfortable in my life and with me, and there’s nothing new or awkward about this.
But he doesn’t give me a lot of time to process or think.
As if he read my thoughts, he opens a cabinet, grabs a drinking glass, and helps himself to a glass of water from the tap. “You want something?” he asks, as though proving he is the opposite of the kind of man I’ve known before. He might as well be named Not Nathan.
“No. I’m good, thanks,” I manage, picking up my daughter and holding her close. I don’t like to use her to comfort me, but I could go for a little comfort. But Junie knows what she wants, and she is excited about her new friend.
She wiggles out of my arms and toddles over to Vito before grabbing on to the leg of his jeans.
He sips the water, then sets the glass on the counter. “All right, ladies. What do we got?”
He’s looking at me expectantly, and I honestly have no idea what he’s talking about. I’m struck speechless by the fact that he’s come into my hotel room, made himself at home, and now, he’s picked up my daughter and is bouncing her on his hip.
