Vic? I know he’d keep the kids safe, but man, would he be in over his head. He doesn’t have the first clue about taking care of kids. They could end up watching porn and eating nothing but frozen pizza.
My phone rings and I look at the screen. Abby. I slide my finger to answer it.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” she says. “I hadn’t gotten a call, so figured I’d call you. How are you?”
“Not good. My folks are on vacation in Italy and my dad had a heart attack there. He’s in surgery now.”
“Oh my God, Luca. I’m so sorry.”
“It fucking sucks; I feel so helpless.”
“What can I do?”
I exhale hard. “Nothing, but thanks for the offer. I need to find someone to take care of the kids so I can get to Venice.”
“That’s right, your babysitter is traveling, too.”
“Basically everyone I know is traveling. It’s fucking summer, so I get it.”
“There’s no one else the kids know and trust?”
I stand up, pacing to the other end of the living room. “I met a couple at Emerson’s school a few months ago, John and Henry. We’ve gotten together with them a few times. They might be willing to help me out. It’s a lot to ask, though. They both work.”
There’s a pause before Abby says, “Do you want me to come over and watch them?”
I feel a surge of gratitude for her. I know it isn’t an easy thing for her to offer.
“No, you don’t need to do that. You’re in town for work, and I…I wouldn’t do that to you, babe. But thank you for the offer.”
“I can swing it with work; it’s no problem.”
“Yeah, but…I don’t want you back in a bad place emotionally, you know? You’re just getting back on your feet. I’ll figure something else out.”
“Do you trust me to take care of them?”
“Of course, I trust you completely.”
“Then let me do this for you, Luca. I’ll be okay, especially if we stay busy.”
I don’t know what to say. I love that she offered, and I do completely trust her. I also don’t have anyone else to ask, other than Henry and John, and I know I’d be imposing on them.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Text me your address and I’ll leave my job site right now. I can have my stuff brought over from the Palmer House.”
“Thank you. This really means a lot to me. I promise I’ll get back as soon as I can.”
“Go focus on your dad. We’ll be fine. I’ll be there soon.”
“Okay, thanks.”
The next hour is a blur. I get a flight booked, one I’ll barely catch if Abby can get here soon. I tell the kids what’s going on as gently as I can. When I say that grandpa’s sick, Cora bursts into tears.
“Is he gonna die?”
“As soon as I get there and see him, I’ll let you know how he is, okay? I just don’t know much right now.”
“Poor Gramps,” Jack says sadly.
“My friend Abby is coming to take care of you guys.”
“Who’s that?” Cora gives me a skeptical look.
“Well, she…she’s a friend of mine. You guys saw her at the charity game.”
Cora’s mouth drops open. “The one who looked like she was about to puke? And then ran away?”
“Yes, but she’s okay now.”
I’m packing a bag as I talk, walking between my closet and bed and throwing random clothes and toiletries in.
“Italy is so far away!” Cora cries. “What if your plane crashes?”
“Please don’t worry about that. When you wake up tomorrow morning, I’ll be there. I’ll text Abby when I’ve landed.”
The doorbell rings then, and Emerson yells up from downstairs.
“Uncle Luca, there’s a lady here!”
I grab my bag, hoping I’ve packed enough, and the two older kids follow me down the curving open staircase at the front of the house.
“You can open it,” I tell Emerson as I jog down the stairs. “I know who it is.”
I get down to the entryway just as Emerson opens the door and I see Abby. She’s wearing a business suit and glasses, her hair pulled back in a bun.
“Hey, come on in,” I say.
“Your house is gorgeous,” she says, stepping inside and looking around at each of the kids. “Hi guys, I’m Abby.”
“You look like a banker,” Jack says.
Abby smiles at him. “Thanks.”
“Uncle Luca, please don’t go,” Cora says. “I just know your plane’s gonna crash. I don’t want you to die. Please.”
“You’re going on a plane, Uncle Luca?” Emerson runs toward me. “Can I come? Please, can I come?”
“He’s leaving us with a stranger,” Cora says dramatically.
Emerson was asleep when I told the older kids what’s going on. I tried to gently wake her up, but she was out. I guess the sound of the doorbell was enough to do the trick.
“Guys, I need you to be brave.” I bend my knees and squat low so they’re all close to eye level with me. “Grandma and Grandpa need me right now, and when your family needs you, you’ve got to be there. That’s what we do.”
Cora has tears streaming down her cheeks. She begs me not to go with her eyes. It guts me. This poor kid comes by her anxiety honestly. She’s lost more than any kid should.
“So Luca,” Abby says, “you said Cora can help me since she’s the oldest, right? That she’s really good at knowing how stuff works around here?”
Cora looks over at Abby. I’m grateful for the save.
“Cora’s great with all that,” I say.
“There’s so much I’ll need your help with,” Abby says. “I don’t know what you guys like to eat or how to work your stove. I hope you know what the good restaurants are around here.”
Cora sniffles. “I know a few.”
“Thank goodness,” Abby says. “You’ll really be helping me out. I don’t even know where the towels are. Without you, I’d just be standing in the bathroom after I take a shower not knowing what to do.”
Jack pipes up. “I know where the towels are. Come on, I’ll show you.”
“She asked me to, Jack,” Cora says.
“Have you guys had dinner?” Abby asks.
“No, and I’m starving,” Jack says. “I only had two snacks at the pool today.”
“There’s a meal kit delivery in the kitchen,” I say. “Three nights worth of dinners inside. And I have an account at a grocery store for delivery. The information is on a notepad in the butler’s pantry.”
Abby smiles at the kids. “What if Cora picks out a restaurant for us to go to? We can get to know each other better and maybe get some ice cream after?”
Even Cora lights up at the idea. I think it’ll be best if I just sneak out as soon as I can instead of prolonging the goodbye. I hug and kiss each of the kids and then do the same to Abby.
“Eww,” Jack says from nearby. “I think he just slipped her the tongue.”
Abby laughs lightly against my lips. I pull away and give Jack a stern look, then hike my bag over my shoulder.
“Be good, guys.”
“We will,” Emerson says.
I walk out the front door to the driveway, where my SUV is parked. As I start the car, I realize I don’t see another car out front; I’m guessing Abby took an Uber here. I look back toward the house, roll down the window, and gesture for Abby to come outside.
“You want the SUV?” I ask her. “My Tesla’s in the garage and the keys are on the hook in the mudroom, but it’s a lot smaller.”
She waves a hand and shakes her head. “I’ll get a rental. Go!”
I look at the front window one more time as I back down the driveway and see three little faces peering through the blinds at me. Hard as it is to leave them, I have to. And I know they’ll be in good hands. Abby manages a Fortune 500 company; I know she can take care of three kids for a few days.
But I hope with everything in
me that being around the kids won’t be painful for her. She’s saving my ass right now, but if it hurts her, I don’t know if I’ll be able to forgive myself.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Abby
The suburban Chicago neighborhood Luca lives in is pretty new. His subdivision is made up of mostly brick homes set back from the road, with larger lots than I’d expect given real estate prices. All have pristine green lawns, many with kids’ bikes left on them.
It’s a place for families. Luca’s large, well-kept home had to cost at least a million dollars, and I suspect he wouldn’t live here if not for the kids. Just like my life changed in the blink of an eye, his did, too. Only he didn’t lose the role of a parent, he gained it.
“Can I wear this to dance practice, Abby?” Emerson walks into the kitchen wearing a swimsuit and a tutu.
“Sure.” I grab my phone, scrolling through texts from Luca to find the address of the dance place. “And you’re supposed to bring your socks and shoes; do you know where they are?”
“Ummm....”
“Okay, go see if you can find them and let me know if you need help.”
I walk over to the island where my written schedule for today is waiting.
Emerson: dance practice at 11 a.m., swim lessons at 2 p.m.
Jack: library reading program at 1 p.m.
Cora: softball practice at 4 p.m.
I’m capable of making my own schedule and sticking to it, but I’ve really gotten used to Anthony doing it for me. And that’s just work stuff. Kids require a little more finesse.
You’ve got this, Abby. Just take it one thing at a time.
I go into the laundry room, pull clothes out of the dryer and put them onto the folding counter, and then I move the wet stuff in the washer to the dryer. As I pick up a pair of red boxer briefs while folding clothes, I smile. I didn’t expect my first visit to Luca’s house to be so…comprehensive, but I’m not complaining.
He told me to sleep in his room rather than the guest room. My first two nights here, I fell asleep in his king-size bed with soft blue sheets that smell like his body wash. I’ve also been using his bathroom, which means I get a peek at all his favorite toiletries. He uses Irish Spring body wash and toothpaste with baking soda that, surprisingly, I really like.
On my first full day here, I didn’t take the kids to any activities. We took the time to get acquainted, playing board games, making homemade pizza and watching movies. They’re good kids, each with their own unique personalities.
“Want to play a game?” Jack asks me as he walks into the laundry room.
“Sure, but I have to fold these clothes and then take Emerson to dance. How about if we play a game in the car?”
Jack gives me a skeptical look. “How can we play a game in the car?”
“I Spy? Or the one where we use the whole alphabet and have to remember everything the other person added?”
He shrugs. “Okay.”
He seems to be the most agreeable of the three. Emerson is happy and outgoing, Jack is quiet and easygoing, and Cora is slightly dramatic and quite perceptive.
“Is Uncle Luca coming back today?” Cora asks from the kitchen.
“No, not today. But he said when he texted this morning that the doctors feel like your grandpa’s surgery went well, so that’s good news.”
“Grandpa’s gonna be okay?” Jack says.
“For now,” Cora says sharply. “But he’ll die someday.”
I cut in to redirect the conversation. “Hey, I thought we’d try that place Jack mentioned for dinner tonight. The one where you can roast your own hot dogs and marshmallows?”
Jack grins his approval.
“Uncle Luca wants us to cook the meals he had delivered,” Cora says.
Emerson walks into the kitchen in her sparkly purple tutu and bright blue swimsuit. “I found my dance shoes!”
“Great, are you ready to go?” I ask.
“No, I have to go potty.”
“Okay.”
She walks across the kitchen, toward the half bath off the laundry room.
“It might be a while,” she says in a matter-of-fact tone. “It’s a number two.”
Jack groans. “TMI, Emerson.”
I can’t help smiling. “It’s okay. Just let us know when you’re ready, Emerson.”
“And turn on the fan this time!” Cora calls out.
So far, I haven’t felt any of the sadness I was worried I’d feel here. The kids keep me busy, and I put their needs first. I may not technically be a mother anymore, but my instinct to care for children is innate. I don’t want anyone to feel left out, forgotten or worried. And between the three kids, that occupies most of my time.
By the time Emerson finishes in the bathroom, we have to rush to get to dance practice on time. And when we get there, the group of three-year-olds in the class right before Emerson’s tugs at my heart.
Their chubby hands and carefree laughter makes me yearn for Chloe. She’d be six now, not much older than Emerson.
“Abby, watch!” Emerson cries, practicing a twirl.
I clap and she curtsies, softening the ache in my heart. The day continues like that, the smeared chocolate and marshmallow on Emerson’s mouth as we cook our dinner over a fire pit reminding me of my daughter, who was forever wearing her dessert.
But then Jack passed me the “extra jumbo large” s’more he’d made just for me, his proud grin bringing me back into the moment.
I’d never let myself come unglued in front of the kids. But the more time I spend with them, the more confident I feel that I can get through this without driving myself into the ground with physical exhaustion.
Emerson has been climbing into bed with me at night, which she apparently likes to do with Luca, so I can’t get up before dawn to occupy myself to avoid nightmares. But with her next to me, I haven’t had any.
Cora’s bedtime is half an hour later than Jack’s and an hour later than Emerson’s, and by the time I finish bath and story time for the younger two, I sit down next to her on a couch in the living room and let out a deep breath.
“Watching anything good?” I ask.
“Not really.”
We stare at the mermaid show in silence for about a minute before Cora turns to me and asks, “Are you Uncle Luca’s girlfriend?”
I’m not sure what the answer is. My mind races as I try to come up with the right words. She saw Luca kiss me before he left, and it’s probably not great for her to think he kisses women he’s not dating.
“Yes,” I say. “But we haven’t been dating for very long.”
“Do you have kids?”
I feel a small stab in my chest. “I used to. My daughter Chloe, she died three years ago.”
“She did?” Cora furrows her brow. “How did she die?”
“In a car accident.”
“I’m very sorry.”
Gone is the ten-year-old who was fighting with her younger brother earlier over a bottle of water. In her place is a girl who has known deep loss. I can see it in the way she’s looking at me; there’s more understanding than I get from most adults when they find out about Tim and Chloe.
“My mom and dad died, too,” she says solemnly. “My dad died serving in combat and my mom had cancer.”
“Cora, I’m so sorry. That had to be so hard.”
She nods. “Yeah. I never even got to say goodbye to my dad.”
“What do you do when you feel sad?”
Shrugging, Cora says, “I just feel it. My counselor Donna told me that you can’t make feelings go away. She said to give them oxygen and let them breathe. I would cry and talk about it. Sometimes I’d get mad. She said there are no wrong feelings.”
“I guess that’s true.”
I’m an imposter for saying that; I’ve spent three years running from any feelings that hurt. And seeing a ten-year-old girl who has faced her own pain puts things in a different light.
“Do you ever feel sad about your dau
ghter?”
“Yes.” I clear my throat. “Sometimes I feel very sad.”
“Me too.”
Cora gives me the slightest of smiles. “Sometimes when the other kids are in bed, Uncle Luca lets me stay up late and watch the hockey channel with him.”
“That sounds like fun. Except I don’t know much about hockey.”
“I can explain it to you.”
“Okay, let’s do it.”
She gets the remote and changes the channel. We both get comfy on the couch and I put my phone next to me in case Luca calls. And then I follow along with the show, trying to figure out this game Luca loves so much.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Luca
It’s damn good when the plane’s wheels go down and I land in Chicago. The past five days have been incredibly stressful, and I can’t wait to get back to Abby and the kids.
My dad is stable. The doctors expect him to make a full recovery, and I got weak with relief when they told me and my mom. She cried happy but exhausted tears and then finally went to a hotel to get some sleep while I spent my last night in Italy with Dad.
Tonight, I get to sleep in my own bed again. And I get to see for myself how things really went while I was gone.
The kids aren’t saying much when they text me, just that things are fine and they miss me. It’s pretty much the same with Abby, but I wonder if she’s putting on a brave front. This can’t be easy for her.
Thank you hardly seems enough to convey my gratitude to her for jumping in to help like she did. Knowing the kids were safe and well-cared for allowed me to focus on my parents when they needed me.
My SUV is waiting in the parking lot at O’Hare, and I make decent time on the commute home, considering it’s close to rush hour. When I pull into my long driveway, Abby and the kids are sitting on the sidewalk, all coloring with chalk.
My heart tugs at the scene. There are smiles all around. Maybe things went better for Abby than I feared.
I park in the garage and barely get my feet on the ground when the kids mob me.
“Did you bring me a sculpture?” Emerson asks excitedly.
“A sculpture?” I ask. “No, sorry, peanut.”
Luca: A Chicago Blaze Hockey Romance Page 13