“It’s okay. I’ve seen worse.” I shrug. “Although there was a moment when I thought I might have to fight her.”
He offers me a flicker of a smile before his face clouds over again.
* * *
Liam’s jovial mood doesn’t return. He’s quiet and clearly distracted as we make our way around the city. After four hours of driving from store to store and examining fixtures and comparing measurements until my brain hurts, I’m desperate to go back home, put my jammies on, and spend the evening in bed watching Netflix. Our last stop is at a hardware store to find a new sink for the tiny main floor bathroom. Once we’re done, we need to head back to South Haven so Liam can pick up Olive from her babysitter.
I play with Isaac’s ring while I try to choose between two sink pedestals.
“If you don’t mind me saying, I think you’re better off with that cabinet over there.”
I glance up and see Liam pointing at a white bathroom cabinet with matte black cup handles.
“It’ll give you some storage.” He shrugs.
I grin up at him. “Sold, to the lady who wants to go home, get into her duckie pajamas, and put her feet up.”
The drive back is quiet. I spend most of it crossing things off my ‘to buy’ list and jotting notes. When I finish, I stare out at the sea, watching the waves roll and the odd seagull fighting the wind.
Liam clears his throat suddenly. “About that business with Hannah...”
“Oh, you don’t have to explain that to me.”
“I know, but I’d like to. I told her it was because she and Olive didn’t warm up to each other—which was true. But it was more of a timing thing. I had some personal stuff come up that I didn’t want to drag her into, and I knew if I told her about it, she’d insist on sticking around, which wouldn’t have been fair to her…or Olive.”
I nod even though I don’t really know what the hell he’s talking about.
“Anyway, I just didn’t want you to think Olive is some sort of tyrant who runs my life, because she’s actually a very sweet little thing.” He glances over with a sheepish grin. “And I know every dad thinks that of his daughter, but in my case, it’s true.”
“Okay, thanks for filling me in because I was worried about that—as people usually are when they hire a contractor.”
Liam’s playful grin comes back. “I’m not a real contractor though.”
Chuckling, I say, “Right, so I needn’t have worried.”
“Exactly.”
We drive along for a few more miles in a comfortable silence, then Liam says, “I worry all the time. A little girl growing up without a mom—it’s a lot harder than I would’ve guessed.”
“I bet.”
“It’s the little things, you know? Like, she inherited her mom’s naturally curly hair and I don’t have the first clue what to do with it. And I’m not exactly oozing with fashion sense, so even though I try to help her pick out nice clothes, most of the time she ends up looking like some feral seven-year-old who lives on her own in the woods. Except she’s always clean,” he adds, sounding just on the verge of defensive. “I make sure of that.”
“I’m sure you do.” I know he needs to talk, but part of me really doesn’t want to hear any of this. I have my own sad shit to deal with.
“Half the time, I’m worried I'm screwing it all up, and the rest of the time I know I am. And to be honest, when I think of her teenage years, I break out in a cold sweat."
"Sure, I can see that. Teenage girls are widely considered the most terrifying sub-sect of human beings on the planet. You should definitely find a very brave woman to marry before she turns twelve." There, I’ve lightened the mood. Let’s stay here, shall we?
“Or by next week. It’s the Mother’s Day Tea at her school. Every year it just guts me. Everyone dresses up and the teachers bring in china tea sets. Sarah’s mom goes, and Olive makes a nice card to give her, but the truth is, I’d rather the school would abandon the whole thing. There are already so many reminders for the poor kid that she doesn’t have a mom. But that one…Jesus.”
My nose prickles and an unwelcome swell of emotion rises. I mentally swipe it away and tap into the injustice of it. “That’s a stupid tradition. Olive can’t be the only one who doesn’t have a mother. That’s just rubbing it in the kids’ faces!” I make atsking sound that reminds me very much of my own mother. “Fucking morons. They should know better.”
Liam’s eyes grow wide and he looks slightly taken aback. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You’re not the one who upset me. It’s the thoughtless idiots of the world who prefer to forget that other people out there don’t have perfect lives.” I allow my righteous indignation to flow through me. “You know what you should do? Take her out of school when they have that Mother’s Day Tea. Just go see a movie or something and forget all about the whole thing.”
“Could do, I suppose,” he says, scratching his cheek. “It would upset Sarah’s mom though. She enjoys it.”
