by Katie Cross
“Sure. What are you doing?”
“Organizing.”
She said it brightly as if it should have been so obvious. Clearly, she'd put the $200 that I'd left to good use because I definitely hadn't bought sweet potatoes or avocados. Before I could form an opinion on how I felt about the rampant chaos in the kitchen, she broke the silence.
“You didn't seem to have any sort of system in place. I found spices in three different places. The cups were by the pantry, but the plates by the fridge, so with your permission, I thought I'd consolidate.”
She pulled her hands together in a gesture meant to show that things were a bit wild and she wanted them back to something more normal.
“I mean, it's cleaning,” she continued with a flip of her hand, “so if you do care then I can put all the dust back.”
“No, this sounds great, thank you.”
She grinned and I realized she'd been a bit nervous about my response. “Awesome. How was your day?”
The question startled me. I didn't recover from it well, but she was kind enough to not point that out. It had been since, well, never, that I'd had someone to ask about my day. With a large family like mine, chaos had always abounded between me and my siblings. Sadie hadn't been the question-asking type, either.
“Uh . . . good,” I finally said. “I'm a bit more efficient when Ava isn't with me, so thank you again for what you're doing. I miss her,” I added, “but I'm getting more done.”
“She misses you.”
Sera said it with a straight face and all the sincerity I could have wanted, but I still found myself doubting it. “How can you tell?”
Her brow puckered. “She doesn't really talk about you that much, but she watches for you. It's like she expects you or wants you home but doesn't want to admit it.”
I grunted. Certainly wasn't the same as Ava throwing herself into my arms, but it was something. And it sounded real. Sera hadn't made it up to make me feel better, which actually made me feel better. I'd much rather hard truth over contrived fluff, no matter how difficult the truth was to swallow.
And Ava watching for me? I'd take it as a good sign.
“Thanks,” I said.
Sera turned around, untying her apron as she went. The movement drew my eyes to the small of her back, then lower. I looked away. Nope. Definitely couldn't start ogling my new friend. Nanny? What was she?
Nope. Not nanny. Wasn't going there, even if I didn't know why.
“Change from the $200 is on the table,” she said as she folded the apron and put it on top of a stack of unused kitchen towels I had vague memories of buying months ago, and then being unable to find. In their absence, we'd been using bathroom towels.
“Ava fell asleep just before you got home. Her homework is in her backpack and she helped me make her lunch for tomorrow. Dinner is in the fridge.”
“Wait, what?”
Her casual list, rattled off so easily, sent my mind reeling. She'd gone shopping, had change from it, helped Ava do her homework, started to organize my kitchen, put my daughter to bed, and made both lunch and dinner?
Serafina moved over to the table and slowly pulled a jacket on. Clearly, she still favored her ribs. The bruising on her face had receded slightly, but still appeared painful.
“Ava requested BLTs for dinner,” she said, “which is funny because she's so anti-sandwich, but what do you do? I made a BLTA for you because you seem like the healthy kind that would want avocado to go with it. There's an extra that you can have tomorrow for lunch, if you do that kind of thing. And I put on my list to buy you some containers for leftovers because that will be a thing now. So maybe just leave that change from the groceries? I think there's enough to buy the containers.”
My mind raced to catch up, but before I knew it, she had grabbed her ratty black backpack and moved toward the back door. Did she ever stop moving? I snagged the keys off the counter and followed behind.
“Thank you, Sera,” I managed. “This is beyond what I ever expected. I sort of thought you'd just watch Ava and crash on the couch after she went to bed.”
She smiled. “No problem.”
Or maybe that's just what I would do, which made me feel like a bit of an underachiever. No wonder our life was disorganized chaos.
We fell into silence at first as I pulled out of the driveway. My mind spun with more than just surprise, and a little annoyance, that she so easily managed a world that I stumbled over every single day. As if Ava and food and the world of parenting should have been easy.
No, more frustrating than that was the delicious smell of her shampoo. Coconut, which had always been my weakness, and a hint of lime. When we pulled up to the hotel, which I still hated for her, she reached for the door handle, then stopped. Her words came haltingly at first.
“Do you have an issue with people gossiping about you?”
My entire body tightened, like I prepped to take a blow that never came. No amount of mental relaxation softened my muscles though. I strove for casual, but my question came out with a bitter edge.
“Why?” I asked.
Serafina's brow rose. She shrugged. “No big deal, just curious.”
“It's a problem,” I said quietly.
She frowned. “Well, that's stupid.” Her gaze cut out to the parking lot. “Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow, Ben. Thanks again.”
With that, she departed with a wave and a flounce of her hair. I watched her all the way to her room, let out a long breath, and then muttered a curse.
Long after she was gone, the car still smelled like Serafina.
The next day, Serafina dropped into the MMA Center around 10:30. The smell of syrup and fried food drifted off of her. She wore her usual Diner outfit, jeans and a black t-shirt with a mostly-clean apron over the front. Her hair spilled out of her ponytail when she stepped inside. Her expression was bright, eyes crinkled with a smile as she greeted my receptionist. I'd just finished a phone consultation when she walked up with her usual winning smile.
“Hey,” I said. “Everything okay?”
“Better than that.” She slapped something onto the counter. When she moved her hand, a silver key lay there. My head lifted.
“The loft?” I asked.
A lopsided grin swept across her face and swiped my heart with it. For a breathless moment, I couldn't respond. Could barely take her in. I was caught up in a moment of pure Serafina, and my heart squeezed.
“Yes!” she cried, eyes dancing. “I got it. Probably thanks to you, so I wanted you to be the first to know.”
Light suffused her whole face. She seemed so far away from the girl that, just days ago, had been beaten around by her brother. My whole body eased under her joy.
“Congrats. That's fantastic. When will you move in?”
Her expression sobered slightly. “Tomorrow. They said it'll be move-in ready then, which is perfect. I still have stuff at Talmage's house, but . . .”
“Want me to go get it?”
My tone came out harder than I meant. It was supposed to be plain and innocuous but came out far too forceful. A flicker of something, maybe confusion, registered in her face before her usual laissez-faire attitude swept it away.
“Nah, but thank you. My parents will be here on Saturday and they'll take me. Mom called this morning and said that Talmage has been checking in with them every night and feels pretty awful about it.”
“He should,” I said.
Again, too forcefully. She ignored that.
“Anyway, I'm feeling a lot better and even more boxed in, so I'm going back to work today and tomorrow before my parents get here Saturday.”
My eyes naturally drifted to her cheek, which did look much better. The angry bruise had faded slightly, the edges more of a green than black now. It still set my teeth on edge to see it on her face, however.
“You're up for that?” I asked.
She flashed me her usual smile. “Of course. I'll just carry plates individually instead of trays. Should
be fine.” She winked. “I practiced. Do you mind if Ava gets off the bus at the grocery store and drinks a milkshake at the Diner while I finish my shift? Dagny covered for me the past couple of days so I wanted to help her out. The shift ends at 3:00.”
“Of course.”
My quick response sent another smile through her. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”
I motioned to the phone. “I'll call her teacher now and let them know which bus stop to get off on.”
“Oh, even better. Thank you.”
“Sure. Anything else?”
She paused, and I wondered if she felt the same thing as me. The camaraderie of working together for something or someone. Doing it together instead of alone. Being able to help her make it work felt just as good to me. It was this sort of teamwork that felt like a combo coming together in all the right places. Sadie and I never had this, not for all the years we'd worked together.
“No, thanks. That's it. Have a good day!” She turned to go, then called over her shoulder, “Chicken cordon bleu and scalloped potatoes tonight, so save some appetite. It's a good one.”
Before my mouth could so much as water, she flashed me a thumbs up and was already gone.
11
Serafina
While I waited outside the Diner on what I hoped was a well-timed break, I tried to fight off the occasional surge of panic that the bus would forget to drop Ava off or she'd go to the wrong stop and be waiting for me somewhere dangerous. The cars that whizzed by on Main Street didn't make me feel any better. Finally, a bright yellow bus appeared on the road and rumbled my way.
“Sweet relief,” I muttered as Ava hopped off the bus. A bunch of other kids streamed out after her near the corner by the grocery store. I stood just outside the Diner and waved. She glanced over, saw me, waved back, and jogged my way.
“This is so cool!” she said as she grabbed my hand. “I get to go to the Diner!”
“I'm glad you think so,” I said. “Because everyone is really excited to meet you.”
The dumpy old place was loud when I brought her inside and set her at a special spot at the counter, a place where old men gathered to yell at the news and eat over-hard eggs in a veiled escape from their wives.
Dagny beamed from behind the counter.
“H-hi,” she cried. “I'm D-dagny. You must be our g-guest of honor.”
Ava blinked. “I'm Ava. You talk funny.”
“Ava,” I said quickly, “that's not—”
Dagny cut me off. “It's f-fine. I do t-talk funny sometimes. It's called a st-tutter. I was born with it.”
“Oh.”Ava twirled on her stool, then her expression illuminated. “Can I have a chocolate milkshake?”
“Coming up!” Dagny said. “One d-delicious chocolate milkshake.”
Ava bit her bottom lip and grinned. Dagny winked at me as I headed to one of my tables to close out their ticket. For the tenth time that day, Benjamin ran back through my mind, but I banished him. No, there was no reason to think about him. Or the way his eyes warmed when I'd gone to the MMA Center earlier. Or his easy help in making my schedule work. His lack of judgment for me coming back to work when another few days off may have been smarter.
“Sh-she's adorable,” Dagny whispered to me in the back when I refilled a pop. “She has her father's i-intensity though.”
“I'm realizing that,” I quipped. With a quick peek to confirm that Ava was still distracted talking to Bert, who had somehow produced both a milkshake and a sticker book with glittering hearts out of nowhere. I turned back to Dagny.
Dagny's eyes widened. “H-how is it going? Are you and Ben a thing?”
“No! I'm just his . . . something.”
“It's always the something they fall for. Y-you should know that b-by now.”
“False.”
“Not false. He t-trusts you with his d-d-daughter. That's so big for a scar-ry guy like him, I c-can't even.”
Her words, though lightly spoken, struck something in me. Perhaps it was combined with my irritation after the grocery store incident, which I couldn't bring myself to tell Ben about and I secretly hoped Ava never mentioned again.
Yes, I wanted something between me and Ben, but Ava and her past were now a very real complication in the algebraic formula of this situation. In other words—no. I wouldn't be the nanny-turned-girlfriend.
That felt not right on so many levels.
“Look,” I said and shot her a hard stare, “there was a time when Benjamin Mercedy could have owned my heartstrings and whipped them around like a child's toy. But . . . Ava deserves better than that. When he asked me to take care of her, I had to draw the line. Nothing will happen between me and Benjamin. I'll help him stabilize his life while I'm here, then when I leave, he'll be ready for the next step. That's it.”
One of Dagny's fair eyebrows lifted. “Right,” she drawled. “Y-you think it's going to b-be that easy?”
“No. It's going to suuuuuck.” I groaned. “But it's the right thing, and it's for the best. That much I am certain of.”
Dagny grinned, a slight, adorable gap between her front teeth giving her a charming grin. “All right,” she drawled. “I c-can't wait to s-see this happen.”
Sensing something in her voice, I asked, “What do you mean?”
Her smile broadened as she gestured toward the front, through the swinging door that had just opened toward me. A familiar bright pink cardigan and head of fluffy blonde hair stood outside, barely visible as the door swung open.
“Your parents just arrived and they're with Ava right now.”
Dagny's smugness wasn't misplaced. My parents had a habit of finding little kids to sponsor as pseudo-grandchildren until my ovaries kicked into work, and said kids tended to fall in love with my parents. Some parents loved them, too. It's why Mom's daycare always had a waiting list. Her deepest joy was taking care of other people.
Twenty minutes later, I found myself shuffled outside, into the back of my parents’ car next to Ava, while we sped toward Benjamin's house to grab Ava's swimsuit. Less than half an hour later, Ava splashed happily in the river that fed into the reservoir while my dad pretended to half drown in water barely to his knees. Ava saved him with a happy screech frequently.
“What a baby doll,” Mom crooned.
I cast her a sidelong glance. We sat side-by-side on the bank, my toes stuck into the water that still held a spring chill. Although we had fluffy towels and blankets at the ready, Dad or Ava hadn't surrendered yet. I couldn't say that I was surprised. Mom had figured out what Ava wanted to do more than anything within minutes of arrival, then Dad set out to make that happen.
My childhood had been something of a dream. Which made the tragedy with Talmage all that much greater.
“She's pretty great,” I said.
“Your father has wanted to be a grandpa for the last twenty years.”
“Janeen,” I drawled in a warning tone, “please don't—”
She held up two hands, bright pink nail polish flashing as she did. She'd swapped out a cardigan for a pair of knee-length shorts and a t-shirt that said, I wear the name Mom like a crown. The obnoxious flaunting of her stay-at-home-mom status hadn't ended with my high school graduation, apparently.
“I won't,” she said. “I won't poke a single word in that direction so you can stop calling me by my first name, thank you very much. I was just making an observation about why he's so happy to jump in that ridiculously cold water with her.”
Reluctantly I conceded. “They both look very happy.”
Sunlight glinted off drops of water as Dad challenged Ava to a splashing fight. She had the same ferocity as her father, and it showed in her expression. With determination, she slapped those hands on top of the water while my father begged to surrender.
“So,” I said when the silence stretched too far. “Have you seen Talmage yet?”
She cast a sidelong glance at me. “What do you think?”
“Yes.”
“Yes.
We stopped before we came to see you.”
“I thought you weren't flying in until Saturday?”
“Dad found someone to cover his shift. He's trying to move out of the OR anyway. Getting too old for those long surgeries, he said. Couple of younger guys moving in who wanted the hours.”
Not surprising. Dad's love of the OR had always been a running joke in our family. Somehow, he'd balanced his time away with the time he was home so that it never felt like he was gone all that much.
“And what did you think of Tal?”
“He's . . .” Her voice thickened. “Sicker than I thought. Looks awful.”
“Yeah.”
She sniffled and cleared her throat, then threw a bright wave when Ava looked back, giggling. I grinned at Ava.
“I think going to the pain clinic is a good idea,” Mom said when her emotion cleared. “It's the next step. He's agreed to some counseling, too.”
“An addiction group?”
Her lips tightened. “Hopefully,” she said in a strained voice, “the counselor he agreed to can help him see the wisdom of that step.”
What she didn't say fell through the cracks like grains of sand. Talmage was still in denial, then, even for my parents. Normally they could get through to him. Well, his path to better was progressing at any rate.
“He wants to go to lunch tomorrow,” she said. “With you. We'll be there, of course. Thought maybe we could clear the air.” She looked at me, and tears still sparkled in her eyes. Her hand settled on my bent knee. “It's totally up to you, baby girl. You don't have to see him if you don't want to.”
“I'll see him.”
She quirked a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “You sure?”
I nodded.
Several moments passed while she studied me, but I'd been sincere. I did want to see Talmage, particularly with them there to referee if needed. Part of me wanted to see him without the drug-induced rage. Another part of me just wanted to get it over with. Maybe have some validation that all of this had actually happened—as if my bruises and aching ribs didn’t tell the story well enough.