I stop at the entrance to the living room and smile at the sight of Nora on the floor, dressed like a princess. She has a pink boa around her neck, a tiara in her hair, and a Superwoman cape draped over her back.
She’s so good with them, a true natural.
Poor Henry is even dressed up beside her. He tugs at the fancy hat Emma put on his head, and Nora laughs.
“Is there enough tea for me?” I ask.
Emma is delighted to have another participant, but Nora looks up at me and pinches her lips together.
“You, kind sir, are not dressed appropriately,” she says in her best British accent.
“She’s wight.” Emma runs back to her room and returns a few seconds later with a pink tiara. “Here, Daddy.”
“Thank you, sweetheart.” I check my male pride at the door, put the tiara on my head, and take my seat at the royal table beside Nora.
“Hey,” I whisper. “You spent the entire day with my kids, and you’re still alive.”
“Barely. Your kids have an endless supply of energy. I’m going to sleep for days.”
“Sleep? What’s that?”
We laugh, and Nora leans in. “Pink is definitely your color. Very chic.”
Emma gives us a look that has us both shutting our mouths. Henry stumbles from the plastic chair and crawls onto my lap.
“Hey, big guy.” I kiss the side of his head and hand him a toy. “Are you hungry?”
“I am!” Emma announces.
“You’re always hungry.”
“Can we have McDonald’s?”
“I…uh…actually, I made dinner,” Nora says, looking a little unsure of herself.
“You did?”
She nods. “I hope that’s okay.”
“It’s more than okay. I didn’t expect you to cook.”
“I know you didn’t. I wanted to. I knew the kids would be hungry, and I assumed you would be too when you go home.”
“I’m starving. Emma, sweetheart, why don’t you go wash your hands and get cleaned up for dinner?”
“Den we can pway pwincess some more?”
“As long as you eat a good dinner.”
“Come on, Henwy.” Emma takes off her crown, sets it on the table, and grabs Henry’s hand.
We watch them walk out of the room, and then Nora turns to me.
“How did it go with Jack?” she asks, sliding the tiara from her head. She winces when one of the prongs gets stuck in her hair.
“Here. Let me.” I remove my tiara and then lean forward and work on untangling the strand of hair in hers.
“Thank you.”
Once it’s loose, we both stand up. “It was good. I’ll tell you more about it when little ears aren’t around. I don’t want Jack to think I’m talking about him. He’s sensitive about that sort of thing.”
“I understand. I’m just glad it went okay, and I hope I didn’t overstep any boundaries by talking to him.”
“Not at all. It went better than okay. He’s a little upset with me, but it has nothing to do with our talk.”
“Why is he upset with you?”
“Lately I’ve been feeling like Jack needs some extra attention—some one on one time. I promised him we’d spend some time together tomorrow, just the two of us, but with Angela unable to watch Emma and Henry, I had to cancel.”
“What about Duke?”
“Hot date.”
“Why does that not surprise me?” Nora grins. “I can watch them.”
I’m taken aback by her offer. “I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You’re not. I’m offering.”
“Why?”
“Well, because I—” Her eyebrows draw together suddenly. “I’m totally pushing myself onto your family, aren’t I?”
“No.” I shake my head and take a step forward. “Not at all. I’m just wondering why you’d want to be here, watching my kids, when you could be doing anything else.”
“Like…”
“I don’t know. What do most women like to do? Go shopping? Maybe get your hair done? Take a cooking class?” Cooking class? Really, Gray?
“Oh, speaking of cooking!” Nora runs into the kitchen, slides an oven mitt onto her hand, and opens the oven door.
A succulent aroma fills the air, and I find myself walking toward the oven to get a better whiff.
“I take it back. You don’t need a cooking class. This smells amazing.”
“Let’s hope it tastes as good as it smells. The vegetables I found in your freezer expired a year ago, and there was a green, fuzzy film on the chicken, but don’t worry, I picked most of it off before I cooked it.”
My lips part, and I stare at her, dumbfounded.
“Relax. I’m joking.” She laughs and sets the dish on a hot pad on the counter. “The food is safe to eat, but your refrigerator is bare.”
“I’ll go grocery shopping first thing in the morning. The kids are always up at the butt crack of dawn anyways.”
“So, about tomorrow.”
“Nora…”
“If you don’t want me to help because you think I’m weird, or unqualified to care for your kids, or you just don’t like me, then fine—say the word and I’ll leave. No hard feelings. But don’t say no because you think you’d be inconveniencing me. I’m alone here. Aside from Nick and Jessa, I have no one—no friends, no family, nothing to do, and nowhere to go.” She breaks our stare, her eyes dropping to the delicious-looking meal she made. “How pathetic is that? I’m famous, I have more money than I could ever spend, and I’m bored and lonely,” she adds, lifting her eyes.
The vulnerability in her voice and on her face makes my chest ache. I don’t know what to say, but the urge to touch her is overwhelming, so I reach out and take her hand in mine.
“If you’re pathetic, then so am I. I know every Clifford book word for word, I can’t go to the bathroom or take a shower without being interrupted, and the conversation we’re having now is the longest adult conversation I’ve had in almost two years.”
“Are we a pair or what?” she says, smiling.
“At least we’re not alone in our state of patheticness.”
“That’s not even a word.”
“It is now. And if you’re sure you don’t mind, I’ll take you up on your offer for tomorrow.”
“What time should I be here?”
“Ten?”
She smiles, and we stare at each other some more.
“Okay, well…” She grabs her keys from the counter and stuffs them in her pocket. “I hope dinner is good. Fingers crossed no one throws up.”
A burst of laughter comes from my mouth. “No kidding. Where are you going?”
“Home. Well, back to Nick and Jessa’s.”
“I thought you said they’re having dinner with her parents tonight?”
“They are. I’ll have the place to myself for a few hours. Who knows, maybe I’ll hit up a drive-thru on my way home. Haven’t done that in years.”
“Or you can stay and have dinner with us. You know, in case someone throws up. It’s only fair that you help clean up the mess since you cooked the food.”
She laughs. “I really don’t think anyone will throw up.”
“And I really want you to stay for dinner.”
She blinks a couple of times, seeming surprised at my offer. The hopeful look in her eyes is almost too much. Hasn’t anyone ever done something nice for this girl?
“Please?” I add.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”
“You made the food; you should at least get to enjoy it. And really, my kids probably won’t eat much, and I sure as heck can’t finish all of that. Plus, it’ll be nice to have another adult in the room. Stay. Have dinner with me—I mean us. Have dinner with us.”
She’s still smiling, and now there’s a glint in her eye. “Okay.”
I pull out a chair and motion for her to sit. “Sit. You cooked. I’ll take care of everything else.”
How is t
his happening? It wasn’t long ago that I saw Nora on the news after some scandal involving her ex-boyfriend, and now she’s sitting at my kitchen table getting ready to have dinner with us.
She takes the offered chair. “I can’t remember the last time I had dinner with someone other than Nick and Jessa.”
“Who do you eat with while you’re on tour?” I ask, grabbing the plates from the cupboard.
I lay them out on the table, along with the silverware, and I rummage in the refrigerator for some bottles of water and juice boxes.
“I usually eat by myself.”
I stop and look at her. “Every meal?”
I don’t like the thought of her eating by herself. No wonder she’s lonely.
“Every meal,” she repeats, lifting a shoulder. “It’s not a big deal. I’ve gotten used to it.”
“No one should get used to eating alone. I don’t know why, but I assumed you had a ton of people to eat with.”
“Like who?”
“Your crew or bandmates?”
She shakes her head. “We’re on different buses. I’m the only girl, and I’m significantly younger than most of them. They’re on one bus, and I’m on another. It’s almost always just me and Ricardo.”
“Ricardo?”
“My driver. Except we don’t talk much. Well, I talk, and he listens, but I’m not sure he understands what I’m saying, because he doesn’t speak English.”
“Interesting.”
“Try boring. Most people think life on the tour bus is crazy and filled with constant parties and booze. That might be the case for some people, but not for me.”
“Well, I forbid you from eating alone while you’re in Rock Springs. If ever you find yourself alone for a meal, just come over and eat with us.”
“I’ll take you up on that.”
Her hair is a mess, and she has a questionable green substance smeared across her forehead, but she looks absolutely stunning.
“I hope you do.” I realize I’m staring and clear my throat. “Emma, Jack, come eat,” I holler, picking Henry up when he wobbles into the kitchen.
Nora helps me get the kids settled and food on the plates.
“I am not eating this.” Jack pushes his plate to the center of the table.
“Jack,” I warn while cutting up Emma’s chicken.
Henry grabs a fist full of green beans and shoves them into his mouth.
“Just try it,” Nora says.
“I’ll twy it!” Emma stabs a chunk of chicken with her fork and pops it into her mouth. She chews and chews and chews some more and then finally swallows. “Dat’s good. I wike it.”
Jack eyes his chicken and then slowly, while fighting back gagging noises, takes a bite. With each passing second, the disgusted look on his face lessens, and then miraculously, he takes another bite.
Nora smiles at me triumphantly. I high-five her over the top of Henry’s head.
“Yes,” she murmurs.
I feel that murmur between my legs. Oh shit.
I straighten up in my chair and concentrate on the food. “You’ll have to give me the recipe.”
“I’ll write it down for you.”
12
Nora
“Where are you?” Nick asks.
“I’m at Grayson’s watching the kids. I left you a note on the counter. I would’ve told you, but you guys were gone when I got up.”
I balance the phone between my ear and shoulder and tie off the french braid at the end of Emma’s hair.
The little stinker loves having her hair done and made me promise to braid it every time I see her. How am I supposed to say no to her sweet angel face?
“We went to the gym. We just got home, and Jessa was going to see if you wanted to go shopping, but you’re not here.”
“Sorry. Tell her I’ll take a raincheck.”
“Will do. So, you’re at Gray’s again?”
“Yep.”
“Weren’t you there all day yesterday?”
“Uh-uh.” And well into the evening.
Nick pauses and then says, “Are you going to watch his kids every day?”
“No.” But I could, if he needed me to, I think to myself, remembering Grayson’s offhanded comment yesterday. “You’re hired.” “Do you have a problem with me helping him out?”
“No. It’s just…not like you.”
“It’s also not like me to bash in a car with a baseball bat, commit grand theft auto, and step away from work for any extended period of time, but here I am.”
I can practically hear Nick rolling his eyes. “You know what I mean.”
“I do, but I can’t sit around all summer and do nothing. It’s barely been a week, and I’m already bored.”
“I understand. It’s just—”
“There you go, sweetie. Don’t forget to put the brush back in the bathroom,” I whisper, patting Emma on the back. “It’s just what?”
“I don’t want him taking advantage of you.”
“Are you kidding?” I scoff. “I had to beg him to let me watch his kids.”
“That sounds like Gray,” Nick says, sounding relieved.
“He’s your friend, Nicky. Don’t you trust him?”
“Yes, but you’re my sister, and—”
“And I’m a big girl. Stop worrying. I’ve enjoyed hanging out with his kids, and he had plans to have a guy’s day with Jack today before Angela quit. I’m just helping out.”
“Okay, I’ll stop grilling you. What time will you be home?”
“Are you asking because you miss me, or because you and Jessa want to get freaky in the living room and don’t want to risk me walking in?”
“I was thinking the kitchen. Our counter is the perfect height.”
“Bleh.” I make a gagging noise, which causes Henry to giggle, so I do it again. “Remind me to bleach your table before we eat off of it next time.”
“I’m joking. Well…maybe.”
“I’ll be home later, whenever Grayson and Jack get back. I don’t know what time it’ll be, so don’t wait. If there’s something you and Jessa want to do, go do it.”
“Okay. But keep in touch.”
“Will do.”
I hang up as Emma walks back into the room.
“Can we go outside and pway?”
Henry wobbles up from his spot on the floor and claps his hands. “Pway!”
“All right. Let’s do it.”
Emma races out of the house. Henry tries to keep up, but his stumpy legs just don’t move fast enough.
“Woo-hoo!” Emma squeals, diving onto a swing stomach first. She pushes her arms out in front of her, walks her legs along the ground, and catapults herself into the air.
I snag Henry’s arm before he gets a foot to the head. “You’re over here, little dude.”
After securing Henry in the baby swing, I give him a push and watch Emma. The swing slows to a stop, and she turns to sit on it properly. When I go to give her a push, she stops me.
“Wet me do it.”
Okay. I watch as Emma manages to push herself in a gentle swing. She starts kicking her legs, furiously trying to get higher into the air, but it just isn’t working, so I move in front of her.
“When you swing toward me, kick your legs out. When you go back, curl your legs in.”
“Wike this?” she says, doing as I say.
“Yup. Now lean forward and back a little bit with the movement. Yes, just like that. You’re doing it, Emma.”
Before long she’s soaring through the air, her braid flopping in the wind behind her. Henry is content to watch his sister swing and even claps for her as she climbs higher into the air.
Emma is all the way back when she looks at Henry, releases the chains, and claps. The moment passes in slow motion but fast enough that I can’t stop the impending accident.
Her eyes grow wide as she loses balance. She reaches for the chains at the same time as I reach for her, but it’s too late. Emma topples backward out of the
swing, landing on the hard ground with a thud.
“Emma!” I rush to her side and scoop her into my arms. Her screams pierce my ears as she clutches the back of her head.
“Oh, Emma.”
I hold her, rub her back, soothe her with quiet words, but nothing I do seems to help. She just screams and screams.
“Sweetheart, can I look at your head?” When I try to move her hands, she shakes her head and cries louder. It must be a kid thing to cry when another kid is crying, because a second later, Henry bursts into tears.
He’s safe and secure in his swing, and I’m fairly certain he’s only crying because Emma is hurt, so I give him a gentle push. “Shh. It’s okay. Emma is going to be okay.”
“No I’m not!” Emma bellows. I wince at the high-pitched sound. “I’m dying!”
I almost laugh at her theatrics. Almost. “You’re not dying. But I need to look at your head to make sure you’re okay.”
She finally looks up. Tears are running down her blotchy face. She pulls her hands away from her head, and that’s when I see blood, lots of blood smeared into her hair—so much of it that I can’t see where it’s coming from.
Okay. Stay calm. She’s conscious, and that has to count for something.
“Emma, can you stand?”
She nods and climbs out of my lap. I take Henry out of the swing and walk them both inside. “Come on, sweetie, let’s get your head cleaned up.”
“What’s dis?” she says sniffling as she looks at her hands.
“Well, that’s blood, but—”
“Bwood!” she screeches. “I’m bweeding?”
“Yes, but you’re going to be okay. I promise. I just have to get you inside so I can get a better look at it.”
“I want my daddy!”
I want your daddy too.
“I know, baby. I’ll message him, but first we need to get inside.”
I usher her and Henry through the house and into the bathroom. After getting Henry occupied on the floor beside us, I put Emma on the toilet seat.
I moisten a rag and hand it to her. “Use this to wipe your hands off.”
She does as I ask while I search through the cabinets. Peroxide. Peroxide. Come on, Grayson. You have to have peroxide in here somewhere. There you are! I grab the bottle, along with some cotton balls and a tube of triple antibiotic ointment, all while completely ignoring the box of condoms shoved in the back of the cabinet.
Wait For Me Page 8