“She’s not so bad.”
Brodie found himself smiling like an idiot at the road ahead, imagining Maeve’s face as she spoke, the remnants of the laugh she hadn’t intended but couldn’t help. Because of him. It made him feel dangerously good. A guilty pleasure that should be avoided. But Brodie was very bad at avoiding the thrill of pleasure. “Yeah, I’d love to do it.”
“Sure?”
“Of course.”
There was a pause.
“Thanks, Brodie.”
He almost bashed the steering wheel in victory, but kept his voice deliberately cool as he said, “You’re welcome, Maeve.”
It was only when he hung up, stopped smiling at what had felt definitely like a flirtation, that he remembered why she would ask him to babysit. Not because he was the fun, sexy bachelor friend who was great with her kid, but because he was the kid’s father.
A vision of his dad’s craggy face staring at him with harsh disapproval popped up in his mind. His heart started thumping, frantic, like a mouse caught in a trap, and he wondered if he should stop driving for a moment.
He pulled over at the lights on Main Street and popped into the grocery store for a Coke. Figured he needed the sugar. Then he bought Zoey one, then put it back and bought her a diet, caffeine-free one. Were kids even allowed that? He chucked in a couple of candy bars and a big bag of popcorn.
Maeve had told him that Carole was expecting him, but when he arrived, she glared at him like a bulldog guarding her territory.
“I’m here to take over.” Brodie smiled widely but it did nothing to soften her. “Relieve you of your duties.” What was he talking about? He felt like he’d been hauled in front of the headmistress.
Zoey came into the hallway and started making faces and doing silly moves behind Carole’s back. Brodie raised his eyebrows in warning but struggled to keep a straight face.
Carole gave him a very disgruntled once-up-and-down and, gathering her pocketbook, said, “I’ll be next door if you need me.”
“Yes ma’am,” Brodie replied, chastened by her tone.
Zoey collapsed into giggles the moment the door was closed.
“Don’t do that!” Brodie said, realizing he’d started to sweat under the scrutiny. “She thinks I’m bad enough as it is.”
Zoey clearly couldn’t care less and took a run and jump onto the couch. “I thought we could watch the first Harry Potter and then watch the next ones in order every time you come over.” She didn’t look at him, just took it for granted that he’d be on board with her logic.
And why wouldn’t he? It was a very sensible idea. But all Brodie heard was,every time you come over. He saw endless hours of Harry Potter stretching out ahead of him, changing at some point to whatever else kids watched. He was fine with a movie,loveda movie, in fact, but what he was less fine with was having plans in place, obligations in his calendar. Brodie purposely lived a very free and easy life, he wanted to be able to pick up his suitcase and hop on a plane at a moment’s notice whenever he pleased.
They had tried to bind him with schedules when he was in the band and he’d coped okay with it then because his brothers were there to pick up the slack if he disappeared off. Also, being with them just made the whole time feel like hanging out with friends rather than every second timetabled. When he went solo, however, that was when the scheduling really hit him. Three hundred and sixty days all meticulously color-coded into hourly commitments. Five days’ holiday. Three years that started with an explosion of excitement and promises and ended with him disillusioned, and dare he say it, lonely. But as his manager said: “At least you’re rich.”
“Sounds like a plan,” he said as Zoey made herself comfortable, plumping up the couch cushions, trying his best to muster the same enthusiasm he’d had at the cabin.
But suddenly everything seemed a little more forced. He was more aware of himself sitting on the opposite couch, aware that she was eight and he didn’t know what to say to an eight-year-old. He got out the Diet Coke and the popcorn. Zoey’s eyes lit up. “Yes!” she said, cracking the ring pull then giggling guiltily as it fizzed everywhere. Helaughed along with her but found it less funny than when he’d been with her before, getting up to go and get some paper towel and clear it up.
“Sorry, Brodie,” she said, as if able to sense his change of mood.
That snapped him out of it, he certainly didn’t want her afraid of spilling, or messing up in any way, in front of him. “Don’t be silly, it’s fine—not even your fault, I probably shook it up in the bag.”
He imagined Maeve watching and felt himself want to step up under her gaze.
Zoey seemed appeased and snuggled back into the cushions, holding the Coke like it was a prized possession. “Ready?” she asked, finger poised on the remote.
“Ready,” he agreed, forcing himself to relax, smiling back at her when she grinned gap-toothed at him. “Hey, you lost a tooth!”
“Yeah.” She put her tongue in the space where the tooth had been. “I got a dollar from the tooth fairy.”
“Big bucks.”
“I want them all to fall out so I can get loads of money.”
