Fuck.
I’ve got to get this desire—this want for her—under control.
“I’m glad you and Lake worked everything out,” I say, forcing my gaze to the National Days calendar covered in check marks.
“Yeah.” She puts the tea bags in the mugs, moving around the kitchen, and I can’t stop watching her.
Why did I let her walk away that night? Why didn’t I demand an explanation after our kiss was so fucking… earthshattering?
There are so many questions I want to ask her, but they all feel selfish given her circumstance—what made her pull away, what made her run away. Could she ever give me a chance? Does she want me the way I want her?
The night we kissed, I swear she wanted it. I swear we’d been playing that game of I really want you, but I shouldn’t. Maybe for her, it was just Can I get Callie’s older brother? I’m sure plenty of girls played that game.
“I don’t want Lake to become me.”
My head snaps toward her at the admission, and I inwardly curse myself for letting my thoughts get off track. “Be you?”
“Yeah. I don’t want her to think she has to take on all the responsibility. I don’t want her to skip fun things because I need her here for her younger brother and sister.”
“You’re really worried about her.” I know it has to come from her own experience growing up.
“Babysitting is fine. But I know she really wants to go to that party, and it killed me to tell her no. We’re still getting used to the schedule. I just went back to work, and I can’t believe how exhausted I am after a shift. I mean, I thought I was tired before. I was so naïve.” She takes honey out of the cupboard. “I want her to be free to be her age.” She pauses, appearing contemplative. “I was her age when my parents divorced. My mom always worked, so she would put me in charge of dinner, and I’d clean the house to make sure she didn’t have to when she got home. She wasn’t herself for a long time after that…” She peeks over at me, and I nod, remembering her parents’ very public divorce.
More than anything, I want to walk over and draw Leighton into my arms, give her the support I think she needs right now, but I force myself to stay where I am.
“I don’t know.” Her voice is like a whisper. “A lot of shit went down back then.”
“Yeah.”
“It’s bad enough that Lake is going to get all this attention—she’s always going to be the girl whose parents died tragically. She’s been branded with that for life.”
A painful lump grows in my throat as I remember that Leighton was branded the girl whose father was found in the school bathroom stall during a holiday play with a classmate’s mom.
“I don’t think you have any control over that.” My voice is gentle.
She shrugs, bringing the kettle over and pouring water into the two cups. “I can control what happens here though. I thought I was doing okay until I went back to work.”
“Has anybody brought up whether you’ll be able to keep working? Like, Patrick and Sky—did they leave anything financially to help?” I’ve been wondering, because going from a single nurse living in an apartment to a house with three kids is a significant increase in expenses. “Will you be able to live off what they left?”
“As of right now, I don’t get anything until the custody thing is handled. But the estate pays for the house and things like that during this process.”
I must’ve heard her wrong. I thought she was getting custody. That she already had it.
My forehead wrinkles. “What do you mean, custody thing?”
“I had to petition the courts for custody. If anybody else comes forward, they can contest it—say I’m not fit—and then it’ll be an even longer process.”
There’s a chance she may not get the kids? After everything she’s done—everything she’s sacrificed—they might take them from her? Just hand them off to someone who looks better on paper? Anger is like a raging bull with its head down in my chest, horns scratching against my sternum.
“That’s bullshit. Who would protest?” I ask.
“Maybe no one. But if anyone does, I think it might be Patrick’s brother, Art… and his wife. I think they’ve been trying to have kids for a while, and she might see this as an instant family.”
The Martha Stewart bleach-blonde from the funeral.
“Well, I hope they see the connection you have with the kids.”
“Yeah, me too. Anyway, once that gets cleared up, the house and everything will be paid out of the estate. For now, living expenses are covered. But you might want to think long and hard before you have a family. They’re expensive.” She chuckles, but there’s no humor in it, then she sighs. “Regardless of whatever happens and if there’s the option for me not to work, I still want to. I love my job. I’m just not sure I can do both right now.”
