He raises a brow. “In the Relica? I don’t think so.”
“Oh. Yeah.” I frown. “Right.” My car’s broken. How could I forget?
“It’s no problem,” Mac says, hopping out of the truck. I grab my bag of McDonald’s and he reaches back to help me down. As I slide across the bench seat and take his hand, my body goes Zap! Pow! Zing!
I’m going to have to work on that. I also have to find another way to prove my independence.
Mac tips that imaginary hat again. “See you in the morning,” he says.
I smooth my skirt and look him in the eye. “Thanks for the ride, Mac Bradford.”
6
Mac
The next morning, before we pick up Brooke, I call my sister to see if Daisy and I can stop by. It’s pretty early and Tess sounds pretty grumpy. So Daisy and I make a pitstop at Bean Brothers. I figure muffins and coffee will make the day easier. For everyone. Now we’re back in the truck with a bag of muffins and four large coffees to go wedged between us.
“Do you think Brooke will like the bran or blueberry?” I ask.
Instead of answering, Daisy kicks the glove compartment. Twice.
“Yep. Brooke seems like a blueberry type to me too.”
Kick. Kick.
“I’ll be honest, Daisy. Auntie Tess didn’t sound too happy to hear from me this early. Do you wanna knock on her door when we get there?”
Daisy nods.
“Good. You can be my wing man.”
She licks the whipped cream off the top of her hot cocoa. It’s actually cold cocoa today. I added extra milk since we’d be driving. No spills or burns on my watch.
If Daisy noticed the change in temperature, she didn’t say a thing. She also didn’t rat me out last night when I told Brooke our last name is Bradford. A part of me hoped Daisy might correct me. I do stuff like that from time to time, trying to get her to talk. But she didn’t speak up.
And now I’m stuck in a lie.
It didn’t feel good then, and it still doesn’t now. Even if it’s for a good reason.
Brooke Wallace told me she had bad feelings about the McCoys. And she’s going to be watching Daisy. I don’t need her thinking negative stuff about any of us. Especially my daughter. And I’ve got a history with women who liked the McCoys. Too much. Gwen wasn’t the first. Tiffany won’t be the last. So I’ll keep who I really am from Brooke.
Call it self-preservation.
In any case, our agreement’s only for one month. I should be able to pull that off until September. How often would my last name be an issue anyway? Brooke and I will hardly see each other. When she shows up, I’ll leave for work. When I get home, she’ll head to the library. There won’t be any paperwork since I’m paying her in cash. Which reminds me, I’ve got to swing by the bank. After a quick pit stop at my sister’s.
Unfortunately Tess throws open the door before we even reach her welcome mat. Daisy sticks out her lip in an epic pout and stomps past Tess, straight into her apartment.
“Hey, sis,” I say. “Could you maybe let your niece get a knock or two in next time? You know how much she loves knocking.”
Tess flinches. “Could you maybe not call me at the crack of dawn and ask to come over next time? You know how much I love sleeping.”
“Yeah.” I pat her on the shoulder. Almost five years as a dad has made me forget most college students don’t like early mornings. “Sorry about that,” I say. “But it’s important.”
Tess turns and shuffles inside. Her shades are drawn. The place looks like a cave. Which fits since my sister looks a lot like a caveman right now. Her long red hair is one big tangle, and her eyes are swollen slits. I hand her a coffee. She takes a sip and makes a face. “No milk?”
I wince. “I used it all in Daisy’s cocoa.”
Across the room, Daisy flops on the couch next to a pile of unfolded laundry. The table in front of her is a jumble of potato chip bags and Oreo cookie crumbs.
“Seriously, Mac.” Tess sighs. “My first class doesn’t start for two hours. Tuesday is my only morning to sleep in. What’s so urgent?”
“This.” I hand her a manila envelope and cut a look at Daisy so Tess will see I’m not interested in discussing specifics while Daisy can hear us.
Tess pulls the papers out and riffles through the top pages. “Ah. Okay. I get it.” She leads me over to her kitchen table and motions for me to sit. “How are you feeling about all this?”
“’Bout time, I guess. I’m ready to move on. Been ready for a while. Obviously, she was too.” I smile grimly. “The paperwork’s all signed and dated. I was hoping you’d mail it for me. Envelope’s already addressed.” I check out Daisy again. She’s tugging at a pig tail. It’s even more crooked than yesterday.
Tess touches my hand. “Mac.”
“I’m all right.” I shift my jaw. “You know, I always said I’d never get a d-i-v-o-r-c-e. So if you drop this off at the post office for me, technically, I’m not the one doing it.”
“I haven’t even taken the LSAT yet. Don’t you want a professional to look this over? Maybe one of McCoy’s attorneys?”
“Nah. This is the final round, and I’m not arguing any parts of what she’s asking for. Anyway, G-w-e-n only wants m-o-n-e-y.” I lower my voice. “Not c-u-s-t-o-d—”
“I get it.” Tess darts her eyes at Daisy, then back to me. “I knew she was a gold digger from the start.” Tess’s smile is small and kind. “You were just too sweet to notice.”
I blow out a breath. “Things might’ve gone differently if I’d taken over the company sooner. That’s all she wanted. Dad too.”
“Dad just wanted you to be happy.”
I gulp down the lump in my throat. “Yeah.”
“He was a good man, but stubborn.” Tess lifts an eyebrow. “Like someone else I know.”
I nod at the divorce papers. “Well, she didn’t see me as good. To her I was one big disappointment.”
“Stop. That’s not fair to you. She wasn’t fair to you.” Tess’s eyes are so sad, my throat gets tight. I don’t need either of us getting soggy right now. So I change the subject.
“Anyway, we have some news.” I turn to Daisy. “Do you want to tell Auntie Tess or should I?” Daisy stares back at me.
“I know you were listening to Miss Brooke and me talking last night.”
“Hmm,” Tess says. “Miss Brooke?”
I keep my eyes fixed on Daisy. “Auntie Tess wants to hear all about how we hired someone new to take care of you. Miss Brooke’s going to get you all ready for school this fall, isn’t she? Kindergarten. That’s the big time.”
Daisy grabs a pair of polka-dotted socks balled up on the couch and hurls them at me. They fly over my head into the kitchen.
Tess gets up to grab her socks. “Well this Miss Brooke person sounds fun,” she says. “If she’s taking care of Daisy, she’d better have thick skin.”
I chuckle. “She’s a security guard, so I assume she’s tough enough. Better than that, she’s an actual teacher. At least she used to be. So she’s safe and experienced. Daisy and I met her at the library.”
I glance at Daisy, who’s still on the couch sucking on a couple of her fingers. It’s what she does when she’s overtired or mad or just plain done. It’s a stab in the heart, seeing my daughter like this. I just want to make things easier on her.
“So.” I shift my focus to Tess. “Would you mail those papers for me? Please? My most beautiful sister in the world?”
Tess smirks. “Now that’s funny.”
I put a hand to my chest and play innocent. “What’s funny?”
“Calling me most beautiful. Mom had to put different colored bows in our hair just so you could tell Darby and Liv and me apart.”
“Hey now,” I protest, even though the memory makes me smile. “I was a nine-year-old boy with triplet sisters. Telling you apart was the least of my worries. Plus I never said they aren’t beautiful too. You’re all the most beautiful to me.”
“All righ
t, all right, big talker.” Tess looks at the clock. “Don’t you have to get to work soon?”
“Nope. I put Nash in charge today.” Nash Hendrix has been my best friend since we ended up on the same Little League team back in third grade. He’s also the best site manager I’ve got. The company is in good hands with him. Better than in my hands, honestly.
“Which reminds me,” I say. “In case it ever comes up, Brooke has no idea who I am. She thinks my name is Mac Bradford.”
“Um.” Tess frowns. “Why does she think that?”
“Because that’s what I told her,” I say. “She also thinks I’m just some random worker at McCoy Construction. And I want to keep it that way.”
Tess wrinkles her nose. “Again … Why?”
I shift my focus to Daisy. She slips off the couch and hops into the bathroom. For at least the next few minutes, I’ll be able to talk freely without little pitchers listening.
“Because I already picked one woman who saw me as a meal ticket, Tess. Now that she’s gone for good, I don’t need another one.”
“Oh, Mac.” My sister’s face falls. “Not everyone’s like Gwen.”
“Well, I can’t take that chance,” I say. “I’ve been hurt, Tess. Heck, I’ve been brokenhearted. But that’s nothing compared to what Daisy’s gone through. I’m still picking up those pieces.” I square my jaw. “From now on, my daughter comes first, last, and only.”
The toilet flushes. Speak of the devil.
Tess nods. “Okay, fine. You’re Mac Bradford, humble construction worker. So even if Brooke is a gold digger, there’s no gold to dig. Do I have that straight?”
“Yep.”
“Good. Now what?”
“Now Daisy and I pick up Brooke, and we all go home. Since Nash has got things at work under control, I can spend the day hanging around while the two of them get comfortable with each other.”
Tess cocks her head. “I hate to burst your bubble, but as soon as you bring Brooke to Mom’s house, your secret won’t last very long. She’ll see all those framed newspaper articles, and the 3D models of Dad’s favorite projects. Not to mention our family pictures. It’ll be pretty obvious you’re a McCoy.”
“You’re right about that. That’s why we’re not going to Mom’s house.”
“Wait.” Tess widens her eyes. “Are you actually taking Brooke back to your place?”
“That’s the plan,” I say. The water starts running in the bathroom. Daisy’s washing her hands. Good girl.
“Wow.” Tess blows out a breath. “I feel like you’ve been living at Mom’s forever.”
“Me too,” I say. “Daisy and I haven’t been back in almost a year. It was just too hard after Gwen left.”
Tess frowns. “I could kill that woman. Leaving on Daisy’s birthday.”
“Yeah.” My gut twists, and I glance at the bathroom. Daisy’s still in there, but she’ll be out soon.
“Anyway, Mom went over there a while ago and cleaned up all traces of Gwen so I wouldn’t have to.” I nod at the divorce papers. “And my marriage is over now, once and for all. I figure going home might help Daisy move forward.”
Tess sighs. “Do you really think this Brooke person can get through to Daisy?”
“That’s the plan.” I shrug. Maybe if I act nonchalant, I’ll feel it. “In any case, Daisy hasn’t punched Brooke yet. So that’s an improvement over the last nanny.”
Tess smirks. “Hey. I’m no fan of violence, but I did kind of love it when Daisy socked Tiffany.”
I chuckle. “Brooke only has to survive for one month. Fingers crossed she won’t end up with a broken nose.”
“So.” Tess studies me for a beat. “Is she pretty?”
I raise an eyebrow. “Daisy? Yeah. I think she’s pretty cute.”
“Ha ha. You know who I mean.”
I shake my head. “I didn’t notice.” That’s not completely true, but it doesn’t matter. No matter how beautiful Brooke is, I’m not interested. “Daisy’s my only priority. First. Last. Always.”
Tess’s smile wavers. “I wish I could help out more. Then you wouldn’t have to pay someone to take care of her.”
“No way, Tess. Let that go. School’s your job. Daisy’s mine. We’re a package deal, and I’m cool with that. So you go get all those straight As, and I’ll get on with figuring my life out.” I survey the tornado of my sister’s apartment. “Should be easier than cleaning this disaster.” I ball up a napkin and chuck it at her.
Tess tsks at me. “First, Daisy throws my socks. Now you’re tossing napkins around. Gee. I wonder where your daughter gets it.”
I glance at my watch. It used to be my dad’s. Thick leather band. Old-fashioned face. “Speaking of Daisy … she’s been in the bathroom a pretty long time …”
Tess cocks her head for a couple seconds, then she starts muttering, “No, no, no, no, no.”
“What?”
“I left all my makeup out on the counter last night.” She bolts across the room, hauls open the door, and shrieks. “Daisy! Not my lipstick!”
Great. So today’s going to be that kind of day?
Good. To. Know.
7
Brooke
The knock at my door comes as a surprise. Mac’s not supposed to be here for another twenty minutes, and I’m still choking down a dry bowl of Lucky Charms.
Note to self: buy milk, Brooke. After you pay rent. And get your car fixed.
Ugh.
I spent a mostly sleepless night preparing for today, sorting through a box of classroom supplies and filling up my backpack with things for Daisy. I’ve got a few early-reader books, art supplies, and some finger puppets. I also packed a hair brush and multicolored elastics. If nothing else, I’m straightening her pigtails.
Another knock and my stomach flips over. Ready or not, I’ve got a twelve-hour day ahead of me, and Mac Bradford on my doorstep. But when I open the door, it’s not Mac. Mrs. Sprat is standing there holding what looks to be an apple pie.
Now we’re talking, neighbor.
She blinks up at me from under her puff ball of white hair. If Matilda Sprat reaches five feet tall, I’d be shocked. I haven’t met her husband, Lawrence, yet, but judging from their wedding picture she keeps in her locket, he isn’t much taller than she is.
“Hello, dear,” she says. When she grins, I see she’s forgotten to put in her dentures.
“Hey, Mrs. Sprat. Whatcha got there?”
“I baked two pies yesterday,” she lisps. “We can’t possibly finish both, but we just had so many apples, I didn’t know what else to do with them.”
“Looks delicious, Mrs. Sprat. But you don’t have to share.” I’m all good if you do, though.
“Don’t be silly. You always share with us. I would’ve offered you one of the pies when you stopped by last night, but they were still cooling on the sill. Galileo says thanks for the fish. Although it was really more of a purr.”
“Tell Galileo I’m glad he liked it. Meow.” Yes, I actually meowed. Then I wave at Mrs. Sprat like a cat batting its paw. It’s possible I need to get out more.
Thankfully, Mrs. Sprat keeps grinning as if she doesn’t notice how weird I am.
“We’re just so grateful to have you, dear. You’re always so good to us. I always tell Larry that’s what we’re put on this earth for. To take care of one another.” She hands me the pie and I smile.
“This time I’m the winner, Mrs. Sprat. Would you like to come in for a quick slice? Apple pie is the breakfast of champions. Full disclosure, though, I don’t have any ice cream.”
Just some expired mayonnaise.
“That’s all right,” she says. “Larry and I always put cheddar cheese on our apple pie.”
“I don’t have any cheese either.”
Just some wilted cilantro.
“Why don’t you come in and keep me company then,” I say. “I’ve got about ten minutes to spare before work.”
Mrs. Sprat blinks again. “Oh, dear. I thought y
ou told me you work the later shift at the library.” She shakes her head. “My memory isn’t what it used to be. I’d forget to breathe if my lungs didn’t do it for me.”
“No, you’re right. Gus takes the earlier shifts. But I got a second job last night. I start this morning.”
“Well, isn’t that wonderful.” Mrs. Sprat clasps her hands together. “You young folk sure do keep yourselves busy.”
“I’m not sure I feel wonderful right now. I’m more nervous. And tired. But pie helps, so thank you.”
“What’s the job?”
“I’m a nanny for a little girl. Just temporary, until school starts.”
At this Mrs. Sprat’s eyes sparkle. “Well, isn’t that lovely? I always tell Larry that’s what we’re put here on earth for. To care for one another.”
“Yes.” I smile and nod. “You mentioned that.”
“Oh, dear.” Mrs. Sprat taps her forehead. “Please forgive this old brain of mine.” Before I can tell her I love her old brain, my phone goes off on the coffee table. It’s the ringtone for incoming calls. Lovely Day. One of my favorite songs.
“You’d better get that, dear. We can talk more later.” Mrs. Sprat begins waddling back to her apartment, then she looks back over her shoulder. “That little girl sure is lucky to have you.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Sprat.” I wave at her again. Like a cat.
Someone save me from myself.
Whoever was calling me already hung up, so I take a moment to put Mrs. Sprat’s pie in the fridge. Now I’ve got mayo, cilantro, and apple pie in there.
Living large, Brooke. Living large.
My phone chimes with an incoming text. It’s Emi. The missed call was hers too. She didn’t leave a voicemail because she knows I never listen to them. I stopped last month when my mom kept spamming me with daily messages asking when I might come home (never), when I might want a visit (also never), and when I might give Ethan Clifton a second chance (whatever lasts longer than never).
Emi: WHAT HAPPENED LAST NIGHT? FIRED? NOT FIRED?
I assume from her all-caps that Emi heard the story already. Probably from Spencer or Lucy. Who knew libraries were such a hotbed of gossip?
The Mostly Real McCoy: A Sweet Romantic Comedy (Apple Valley Love Stories Book 1) Page 5