Page 50 of York

“Oh, that’s fantastic. How is he with her?”

“I couldn’t have asked for more. Genuinely. As shocked as he was, he immediately stepped up. He’s been spoiling her.”

And me. But I felt weird talking about that. Not just the bedroom he’d designed for me. But the closet full of new—nice—clothing… in the exact styles I liked—as well. I’d needed to close my bedroom door, sit on the end of my bed, and cry when I saw it all.

I’d never been someone with a huge wardrobe or who particularly cared about materialistic things. That said, my life had been full of self-sacrifice for so long. I wore shoes that gave me blisters so I could afford diapers. I ripped underwire out of my bras when it poked through instead of getting new ones, dealing with an awful uniboob because Denali was growing so fast and needed a whole new wardrobe. I washed underwear in the tub because I only had five pairs and couldn’t buy more because baby food was surprisingly expensive.

It wasn’t about the clothes, per se. It was about feeling safe enough to be willing to accept them, not immediately think about how much they might be worth so I could sell them and get Denny something she needed.

It was about our life finally, finally feeling secure and safe.

Because of York.

While, no, I didn’t plan to be someone who relied on him for everything, it was such a relief to know I could if I had to. For a short time.

“I hope that’s not in place of actual time with her,” Amanda said.

“No, not at all. He can’t seem to get enough of spending time with her. We’ve been to the zoo, beach, bowling, gaming centers…”

“But has he spent any one-on-one time with her without distractions?”

“Of course. They’ve shared meals and she’s introduced him to every single one of her stuffies and figurines. And they’ve colored and done crafts.”

I’d left him to watch Denny while I took a cleaning job—because having my own money would never not be important to me—and walked in to find him sitting on the floor at the coffee table, carefully gluing sequins onto a paper dress for Denali to put on her paper doll.

I swear my heart felt two sizes too big at that image. I’d even taken a picture with my digital camera to keep. “I’m so happy for her.”

“Me too.”

“So, what is he like?”

“He’s… steady and reliable. He has a way of anticipating what she—or we—might need. He does things without being asked.”

“Has he made any demands?”

“None. I mean, he’s made it clear that he wants to be in Denny’s life, but he has also been careful not to step on my toes. He always checks in with me and asks instead of demands. It’s been great.”

“Oh, I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks, it’s been such a load off.”

“Are you guys still staying at a motel?”

“No. No, we’re actually in an apartment.”

“Already? Wow.”

For some reason, my pride prevented me from admitting that York had provided the new home for us.

“Yeah, things have been moving so fast.”

“What are you doing for work?”

“Cleaning still. I’m still not willing to get my name on the books somewhere. That just feels like tempting fate.”

“I get that. But at some point, you will have to finally set down some real roots. With a support system now, you have the help you need to be able to hold down a normal job.”

“Yeah. I just don’t want to take any chances and ruin this. The last thing I want is to have to take Denali away from her father. That’s so not fair to her.”