Three Makes a Family--A Clean Romance

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Three Makes a Family--A Clean Romance Page 13

by Cari Lynn Webb

Molly shook her head. He was determined to have a celebration. Would he be as relentless as a father? As committed as Molly was to being the best parent she knew how to be. She shifted the diaper bag to her other shoulder—the one closest to Drew as if she required a physical barrier between them.

  She certainly required more than her imaginary boundaries. Boundaries she kept breaching. Drew’s skills as a parent were not her concern. His parenting style had no bearing on his hearing or its outcome. But envisioning Drew as a dad had too much impact on Molly’s heart.

  She had not moved to San Francisco to add to her family, she admonished silently. She’d moved to restart her career and give Hazel and herself a better life.

  Drew would make a great father. That much Molly admitted. As for her own family, it was fine the way it was. And that, Molly determined, wasn’t negotiable.

  To expand her family, she would demand love. But love was never simple—all too often it was painful and required more than Molly could give. She’d simply love her daughter with all she had and that would be enough.

  At the next street corner, Molly tugged on Hazel’s blanket and pointed out a pigeon. Then she launched into one of her favorite games of I spy with Drew.

  Twelve blocks later, Molly laughed and rubbed at her eyes. “I give up. What looks like it has absorbed the last rays of the sunset, always catches people’s attention and belongs to only one special person?”

  “I’m not telling,” Drew teased. “I might keep it for our next battle.”

  Molly held open the door to the Sugar Beat Bakery and stared at Drew. “You can’t do that. I’m sure it’s a rule.”

  “Oh, really.” Drew pushed the stroller into the store and paused when he was beside Molly. He leaned toward her and whispered, “In that case, the answer is your hair.”

  Molly sputtered. Her hair. Drew compared her hair to the sunset? Her mother had only ever lamented Molly’s hair—it wasn’t red enough. Nor was it blond enough. Her mother considered Molly’s hair color indecisive and set out to make sure her daughter never acted accordingly. Never settle for the middle ground, Molly. Take a stand.

  She should take a stand now and demand that Drew retract his statement. Remind him that she wasn’t special. Couldn’t be special. Not to him. That disrupted those pesky boundaries.

  Drew parked Hazel’s stroller near a corner table and waited for Molly to join them. He took her order and walked to the service counter. Molly settled Hazel into a high chair, pulled out her stack of nanny résumés and pushed her wayward thoughts of Drew into the to-be-dealt-with-later category.

  * * *

  AFTER TWO HOURS of sitting in the bakery, Molly watched the fourth nanny candidate leave the Sugar Beat Bakery, then stared at the bottom of her empty coffee cup. Too many espressos consumed, and her list of potential nannies had dwindled. Thanks in part to the man beside her. And to think she’d been relieved that Drew had insisted on joining her for the interviews.

  “She was definitely all wrong.” Drew marked a thick line across the list on her sheet of paper.

  “I liked her.” Molly frowned into her cup.

  “Did you like the faint smell of smoke on her?” Drew asked. “Or her wrinkled shirt and pants?”

  “She could’ve walked through a smoker’s cloud of exhale outside on the sidewalk.” Molly tapped her mug as if it would automatically refill. As if more caffeine would solve her not-having-a-nanny issue. Only asking Drew and his common sense to leave would do that.

  Molly was desperate for childcare that would work for Hazel. She couldn’t keep disqualifying a candidate for being late or having too stern a smile or bad breath or a weak handshake. Even though Molly noticed every one of those details and others that had given her pause. On the other hand, Hazel couldn’t join Molly in the courtroom, or go along to a deposition or a witness interview. A criminal defense attorney distracted by a baby and asking for a recess for a diaper change hardly instilled confidence in her potential clients.

  “Hazel didn’t like her.” Drew leaned toward Hazel, held out a wilted piece of lettuce from his sandwich and shook his head. “We didn’t like her, did we?”

  Hazel scrunched up her nose and shook her head back and forth, mimicking Drew.

  “She’s making the face at the lettuce.” Molly’s voice was dry like the crumbs from their shared cupcakes.

  Drew dropped the lettuce leaf back on his plate and launched more rationale at her. “Hazel refused to go to that woman. That has to count for something.”

  Molly wanted Hazel to like the nanny, but not prefer the nanny over her. If Hazel took time to warm up to her nanny, was that so bad? “All babies around nine months like Hazel go through separation anxiety and only want their mom. It’s completely normal.”

  Just as Molly’s feelings were normal. She still wanted to be the center of Hazel’s life. Surely, that wasn’t wrong.

  Drew held his hands out to Hazel. The sweet girl reached for him, her smile growing. “She likes me.”

  Molly liked him too. Too much.

  Drew set Hazel on his lap and tucked her into his side. “Who’s up next? Hazel and I are ready to meet her.”

  “The next one is fifteen minutes late.” Molly avoided looking at Drew, picked up his pen and made a deep x across the nanny’s résumé.

  The bells on the coffee shop chimed. Molly lifted her head to see Evie Davenport and Ella step inside. Evie waved and leaned down to speak to Ella. The young girl’s smile brightened. The pair made their way over to the table.

  Evie grinned. “You two look like you need some of my special blend Irish coffee, not the tame version you can get here.”

  “The nanny interviews aren’t going as well as expected,” Molly admitted.

  “Do you want some help?” Ella asked.

  “We’re here on our weekly Friday afternoon coffee and sugar run for The Pampered Pooch staff.” Evie checked her watch. “But we have a few minutes if you’d like another opinion.”

  “Please.” Molly pulled out two empty chairs. Perhaps Evie would help convince Drew that some candidates deserved a second interview. Another chance to make a better impression.

  Evie guided Ella into the chair beside Hazel’s high chair and walked to the counter to place an order.

  Drew deposited Hazel back into the high chair, putting her closer to Ella to the girl’s obvious delight. Ella reached out until her hand touched the high-chair tray and Hazel immediately gripped Ella’s fingers. Ella laughed. Hazel grinned. Then Ella launched into a childhood song about the wheels on a bus. Hazel babbled and hummed. The baby’s gaze never left Ella as if the preteen transfixed her.

  Molly set her palm over her chest. The girls’ immediate bond hugged her heart. Had her considering more children once again. That sibling factor. But a family of two was perfect.

  Drew leaned closer and bumped her shoulder. “Hazel did not react like that to any of your nanny candidates.”

  “Do you want me to invite the nannies back for a second interview and a sing-along?” Molly couldn’t quite stall the frustration from slipping into her voice. Why couldn’t she see Drew as a peer who needed her help?

  He pulled back. “I want Hazel to like the nanny the same way she likes Ella.”

  “That’s not possible.” Molly crushed an empty cupcake wrapper with her fork. “Ella and Hazel have a special bond.”

  One that she feared was unbreakable. Like her inappropriate thoughts about Drew, her client. Unlike the one supposedly around her heart. Brad had accused her of acting from her heart. Now her heart demanded a voice. Considered Drew as more than a friend and whispered about expanding her family. But Molly had promised never to open her heart again.

  Evie slipped into a chair and touched Molly’s arm. Evie’s voice was gentle, her smile encouraging. “Don’t worry. We’ll find you a perfect nanny.”

  Molly h
anded over the résumés, including the discarded ones. But she really wanted to hand the kind older woman her heart for safekeeping. Molly wasn’t convinced she could quite protect herself.

  Evie glanced through several sheets and shook her head. “Do they all lack experience with children under one?”

  “Not all,” Molly hedged. “But how is a nanny supposed to gain experience if someone like me doesn’t hire them?”

  “You don’t really want to be the family who the nanny learns from, do you?” Evie peered at Molly over the frames of her cat-eye-shaped glasses.

  Drew gave a wry smile. “I told her the same thing an hour ago.”

  “This is a reputable company.” Molly tapped on the top of a résumé where the agency’s information was printed. “I’m sure they only accept quality candidates. And they have stellar reviews.”

  “Uncle Drew and Dad will tell you the agency bought those reviews to make their company look better,” Ella chimed in before launching into another kid’s song about a spider and a waterspout.

  Molly arched her eyebrow at Drew.

  Drew shrugged. “We’re not wrong.”

  Evie covered her smile with her hand.

  “What am I supposed to do?” Molly smashed her napkin on the table. “I have a court appointment Monday.”

  “I’ll be there,” Drew promised. “I can help.”

  “I can’t ask you.” Talk about those client–attorney boundaries. She’d be relying on Drew as if he were more than a client. She’d never asked a client or a colleague to babysit her own daughter. Molly shook her head. “It’s not right.”

  “What time is your court appointment?” Ella asked.

  “Eleven fifteen, Monday morning,” Molly replied.

  Ella frowned. “Too bad. I’m in English class, otherwise I could’ve helped you too. I could’ve joined Drew and Hazel.”

  “That’s very kind.” Molly reached across the table, grabbed Ella’s hand and held on. “But you need to be in English class. Learning is important.”

  “That’s what mom keeps telling me.” Ella squeezed Molly’s fingers. “But I wish I didn’t need algebra.”

  Molly chuckled. “I think I once wished that too.”

  “I can help after twelve thirty on Monday.” Evie set her phone down. “Unfortunately, I have an early morning doctor’s appointment that cannot be rescheduled.”

  “You can’t miss that.” Ella sounded worried. “Remember when you fell and broke your arm in three places.”

  “That was almost two years ago,” Evie said. “I’m sure I’ve healed.”

  “Still, you should see the doctor,” Ella said.

  “Hazel and I will be fine together,” Drew said. “We’ve got this. I don’t need help on Monday.”

  “If you do, you can text me,” Evie offered. “I’ll come right after my appointment.”

  “And you are on my approved list, to sign me out of school, Uncle Drew,” Ella said. “So, if you need me, just go to the office and sign me out.”

  “Your parents will not like that,” Drew warned.

  “We don’t need to tell them,” Ella suggested, grinning.

  “Okay.” Drew held up his hands, as if asking for patience. “I’m not texting or signing anyone out of anything Monday morning. But I am watching Hazel and we will be fine.”

  Molly worked through all the reasons this was wrong. But what other choice did she have? A nanny she wasn’t comfortable with, or Drew—a man she considered more than a friend. A man she was tempted to trust her heart with. Molly twisted her hands together underneath the table. She might be tempted, but that was all.

  His perceptive gaze dropped on Molly and held. He arched one eyebrow. “Agreed?”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  MOLLY CHECKED HER phone for the fifth time in five minutes and glanced up and down the empty hallway outside Judge Reilly’s chambers.

  Drew was late.

  The same man who had dismissed two nannies last Friday for being late to their interviews was now imitating their bad behavior. Molly peered at Hazel in her stroller. Only a single green stain from breakfast discolored her daughter’s short-sleeved cotton onesie with the clouds. Not exactly the look Molly would’ve chosen for Hazel to meet Judge Reilly, but she had no choice.

  Molly produced a rainbow-print blanket from the diaper bag and covered Hazel from chin to feet. The stain hidden, Molly reached for the door of Judge Reilly’s chambers.

  “I’m here.” Footsteps echoed on the marble floor. Drew waved at her and called out again, “I’m here.”

  Molly released the door handle and watched Drew skid to a halt in front of the stroller.

  “Sorry,” he wheezed and touched his chest. “Took longer to get the pennies than I thought.”

  “Pennies,” Molly repeated.

  Drew held up a plastic bag of pennies. “For the fountain in the park. We have wishes to make while you’re in the judge’s chambers.”

  Molly handed Drew the diaper bag and angled Hazel’s stroller toward him. “Text me the address for the park. I’ll meet you two there.”

  “It’s a short walk.” Drew stashed the penny bag inside the diaper bag and gripped the stroller handle. “Remember when you’re in there, use honesty and candor dipped in sunshine.”

  “Professor Mason’s favorite advice.” The tension eased from Molly’s shoulders. Their popular law professor had a creative spin on how to appeal to everyone from individual jurors, court reporters and judges to clients and their families.

  “I prefer my honesty lightly dusted in powdered sugar.” Drew lifted both eyebrows. “But whatever works for you.”

  What worked for Molly was Drew. In a suit or like now, in running shoes, athletic pants and a sweatshirt. What worked for Molly was Drew the friend who’d taken her to see Santa all those years ago. The friend who came to her rescue today as a babysitter. And the man who’d referred to her as special. But it wasn’t the time or place to dissect her relationship with Drew.

  She took a deep breath, let it go and flexed her toes in her heels. Walking through the same routine she did before every court appearance reminded her to stay grounded and confident. “I should not be long. I’m sure Judge Reilly has case hearings back-to-back today.”

  “Hazel and I are good.” Drew pushed the stroller away.

  Molly pushed open the door to Judge Reilly’s office, greeted Daniel, the administrative assistant, and waited for him to escort her into the judge’s chambers. She quickly ran through what she wanted to accomplish here. She wanted no hiccups with Hazel’s custody. On the off chance something went awry, she wanted to be prepared.

  And she was.

  Twenty-eight minutes later, Molly shook Judge Reilly’s hand and exited the judge’s chambers.

  When she’d first learned she was pregnant, Molly had envisioned debating wallpaper choices with Derrick or paint for the nursery. Deliberating over the most educational toys for the playroom and discussing whether a sandbox or swing set worked better in the backyard.

  She’d never imagined the copious amounts of paperwork. Or Judge Reilly’s lengthy explanation of parental rights, both maternal and paternal. Or the judge’s mandate for a custody hearing in two weeks, ordering both parents to be present. Fortunately Judge Reilly had agreed to hold the hearing in San Francisco rather than Los Angeles.

  Molly’s filing for full legal custody of Hazel had become much more than notarized signatures on a stack of papers. But her daughter was her priority and the steps, although frustrating and tedious, were necessary. Molly texted Derrick the hearing details, explained it was a formality and set out her expectations that he would attend. Once custody was finalized, they could both move on. Derrick with his first wife and old ways, like he’d chosen. Without Hazel in his life, liked he’d wanted. Molly was determined to build a better future for Hazel an
d herself in the Bay Area.

  Outside the courthouse, Molly opened her map app to locate the park where Drew and Hazel had ventured off to.

  Drew had brought pennies to make wishes in a fountain. He hadn’t hesitated in his offer to watch Hazel for Molly. He’d rescued puppies with confidence and ease. And recently he’d been rescuing Molly. First with an apartment. Then his case, giving her a client. And now babysitting Hazel.

  Drew wouldn’t walk away from his own child. Not like Derrick had. He would most likely barter for fun toys mixed in with the educational ones. And insist a backyard required both a sandbox and a swing set. After all, he still made wishes in fountains. But Drew’s parenting skills were not involved here.

  Molly would provide Hazel with the house, the playroom and the backyard. She wanted Hazel to know she could always count on Molly.

  Suddenly she wanted to hold her daughter. Look into Hazel’s deep blue eyes and remind herself Hazel was the reason. Her reason for everything.

  The park took only minutes to find. Drew and Hazel only seconds to locate inside the lush greenery framed on all sides by towering high-rises. Drew held Hazel and pointed at the dozen fountains spurting water toward the sky and spraying metal fish, as well as frogs and turtles swimming in the extensive pool.

  His head was tipped toward Hazel’s as if, even in garbled babbles, Hazel shared the most important secret ever. As if Hazel mattered.

  Molly wanted to run to the pair and step straight into Drew’s embrace. To be held with the same protective tenderness. To believe she was wanted. That she made a difference in someone’s life not because she could represent them successfully in a courtroom, but because she was valued as a person. As a partner in their life. She wanted to know she wasn’t so easy to walk away from.

  She forced herself to slow her steps. Center herself and her focus. Drew was not her partner in life. His arms were not the ones she wanted wrapped around her. Besides, her life was full. All she needed was her daughter. As for that loneliness, she’d always filled that with work. She just had to work harder now.

 

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