by Nan Dixon
He hadn’t bothered to read the list. Maybe he was illiterate.
“There’s a secondhand store nearby.”
“I don’t mind buying new.” Nathan rolled down the window.
“Let’s try this store first.”
She triple-checked that every intersection was clear before turning. Nathan tapped his fingers on the outside of the car, but she wasn’t going to rush.
“Did you finish the staircase?” she asked, tired of the silence.
“We have a couple more layers to go.” Nathan described how distressed oak would be glued as the last layer. “We ordered iron spindles. They’ll match the hinges still in the space.”
Josh asked questions. And he and Nathan had a real conversation. Isabella didn’t say a word, just cuddled her ratty blanket.
At the strip mall, Cheryl pulled up in front of the store. “Everyone out.”
Josh didn’t need help with his buckle and he unlocked Isabella’s chair, too. “Come on.”
The little girl crawled out Josh’s side of the car and took his hand. Nathan stood with the car door open, confusion filling his face.
Cheryl stopped on the sidewalk. “Has she said anything?”
“No.” He rubbed his neck. “Is that normal?”
“I don’t know.” After Levi, Josh had been pretty quiet, too. “Maybe.”
“What should I do?”
He looked so lost, she patted his arm. “Give her stability. Give her love.”
“I guess.” He wiped a hand over his face. “Where do we start?”
“Where’s the list?”
He pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to her. He pointed down two doors from the store. “I’ve been to that bar and never knew there were stores here.”
“I’ve been in this store and never knew there was a bar here.” And didn’t that highlight their differences?
“Let’s go.” She wanted this evening over, but the two kids were kneeling next to a shrub.
“I found a really cool bug.” Josh pointed at a branch.
“Wow.” Nathan crouched next to the kids. “It’s a praying mantis.”
Josh reached out to pick up the bug.
“You should leave it alone.” Nathan told him. “They eat the bad insects.”
“How come we haven’t seen any at my camp?” Josh’s eyebrows were pinched together.
“They aren’t that common,” Nathan said. “They’re cool-looking, aren’t they?”
“I guess.” Josh shrugged.
“I haven’t seen a praying mantis in years.” Nathan smiled.
Something loosened in Cheryl’s chest as she ushered them into the store. She’d been around Nathan’s identical twin a lot. She should be used to looking at his handsome face. But there was something different about Nathan. His face was...weathered. Like he’d seen too much, done too much, felt too much.
She straightened her shoulders. It was a mistake to romanticize Nathan. He’d lived a tough life—on purpose.
Nathan set a hand on her shoulder. “I forgot to thank you for helping me.”
She slipped away from his disturbing touch. “No problem.”
She headed for the booster seats while Josh zeroed in on the play equipment. She kept an eye on him as Nathan settled Isabella into each booster seat, testing the size.
Cheryl read the weight restrictions. “Do you know how much she weighs?”
He shook his head. Picking the girl up, he threw her over his head. She gave a bright chirp of a giggle. “Can’t be more than thirty pounds.”
“This one should last you a while.” Cheryl pointed.
“What do you think?” Nathan crouched next to his daughter, who shrugged.
“I guess that’s a yes.” He looked around the store. “What else?”
“She’s small, so she could use a booster seat at the table.”
“I’ll need to buy a kitchen table.” Nathan picked up two booster seats. “One for my folks’ house.”
She checked on Josh. He was coloring on an easel. She took in a breath. Her son loved drawing and coloring. How much would an easel cost?
Guiding Nathan to the strollers, she asked, “Do you want a stroller?”
Panic flared in his eyes. “Do I need one?”
“Not necessarily, but it’s nice when they’re tired and you don’t have enough arms to carry stuff and her.”
He stared at the choices, not moving. To speed up the selection process, she guided him to a small umbrella stroller. “This should work.”
Isabella sat in the seat, tugged up her blanket and stuck her thumb in her mouth.
“I guess that means we’ll take it.” Nathan rubbed Isabella’s hair.
“We can look at furniture now.”
He shook his head. “No used furniture.”
Wouldn’t that be a nice attitude to have? Cheryl checked through the second-hand clothes instead. “Do you want clothes? This is nice.” It was a pretty pink cotton sundress.
“Sure.” His lost expression was back.
She grabbed a few outfits and then called to Josh, wanting to pull him away from the art supplies before he could ask for something she couldn’t afford. “Can you help us find a stool for Isabella?”
“Over there.” Josh pointed to the side of the store, not moving toward her.
“Come test them out.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m too big for this.”
“That’s because you’re taller. Isabella, can you try it out?” The little girl stepped on the stool.
“That looks good. Right?” Nathan asked.
“Yup.” Cheryl checked through the rest of the store, but didn’t see anything else on the list. “I think that’s it. Josh, take Isabella’s hand and we’ll check out.” By helping, maybe her son wouldn’t be upset he hadn’t gotten anything.
“Hang on.” Nathan headed to the back of the store.
Cheryl didn’t have a chance to wonder what he’d spotted. She pulled the clothes out of the stroller and set them on top of the booster chairs on the counter.
“Your daughter will look precious in that dress.” The cashier smiled as she rang up the charges.
“Thanks, but she’s not my daughter. That’s my son.”
The clerk blinked. “Wow. The kids look alike.”
Cheryl looked between Josh and Isabella. They both had blond hair and brown eyes. “I never noticed.”
Nathan joined them at the counter.
“Are they cousins?” The clerk’s smile changed, a little more flirtatious.
“They aren’t related.” Nathan carried the easel Josh had been admiring. “This, too.”
Josh’s face turned into a thundercloud.
Nathan set his hand on Josh’s shoulder. “Thanks for helping out tonight.”
Josh’s frown deepened. “Is that for Isabella?”
“It’s for you.” Nathan grinned.
Cheryl saw the price. “It’s too much.”
“Mom,” Josh pleaded.
“He had to share his bedroom last night. I think it’s okay.” Nathan stroked the easel. “I had one like this when I was a kid.”
Cheryl twisted her hands together. She wasn’t comfortable with Nathan buying her son a gift, especially such an expensive one.
Josh stared at her. “Please.”
She swallowed. “Okay.”
He grinned. “I’ll carry it.”
“What do you say?” she reminded him.
“Thanks.”
She looked at him.
Josh took a deep breath. “Thank you, Mr. Nathan.”
“You’re welcome.” Nathan nudged her shoulder. “That’s a cool trick,” he said under his breath
.
“What?”
“Getting him to talk with just a glare.” Nathan touched his daughter’s hair. “Can you do the same with Isabella?”
Cheryl’s heart lurched. “Maybe she just needs more time.”
“Maybe.” He handed his credit card to the cashier. “Where to next?”
She checked her watch. “We need to eat.”
“Okay.” He grabbed the booster seats and stroller.
The clerk handed her the shopping bag. Josh carried the easel like it was nitroglycerine. Too bad he wasn’t always that careful. He’d broken a plate just last week.
While Nathan installed the car seat, she and Josh put the rest of the purchases in the trunk, but kept out the stroller.
“There’s a café around the corner that’s fast,” Cheryl said. “We can walk over.”
“I’ll follow your lead.”
“Get Isabella in her stroller, unless you want to carry her.”
He grimaced. “I was hoping you’d do the honors.”
“You need to learn.” No matter how helpless he looked, she refused to enable him.
“Let’s give this a try.” He took his daughter’s hand and strapped her in the chair. “That wasn’t hard.”
Four women piled out of a car, laughing as they headed to the bar. Nathan watched as they passed.
“What a cutie.” A woman leaned over the stroller, flashing poor Isabella her abundant cleavage.
“Thanks.” Nathan grinned.
The woman looked at Nathan and sighed. “All the good ones are taken.” She looked at Cheryl. “Lucky you.”
The blonde joined her friends and they entered the bar. The sound of laughter and loud voices drifted out through the open door.
Cheryl shook her head. “I can’t believe that.”
“Yeah.” Nathan looked longingly at the bar. “She didn’t even check to see if we were wearing rings.”
That’s what he’d noticed? Not the woman’s flirty tone or too-tight shirt?
“I’m hungry,” Josh complained.
“Okay.” She took his hand, leaving Nathan behind them to push the stroller.
“The bar has pretty good food,” Nathan said.
She turned. “No.”
He sighed. “It was just a thought.”
At the café, Cheryl asked for a table. “We’ll need a booster seat.”
Nathan’s gaze dropped as the waitress seated them. Cheryl frowned. Had he just checked out the woman’s ass?
Once settled at the table, she glanced at the menu. “What do you want?” she asked Josh.
“What do they have?”
She pointed to the kids’ menu selections on the placemat and helped him sound out the words.
“Pancakes,” he said.
“Sure.” At least it came with applesauce.
Nathan hadn’t opened the menu. Cheryl nodded at Isabella, prompting him.
Nathan winced. “What do you want?”
The little girl chewed her lip. Nathan pointed at the pictures on the placemat she was coloring. “Chicken fingers. French toast. Hot dog. Grilled cheese. Pancakes.” He waited until she stabbed a finger at the French toast.
The waitress came over and Nathan gave her a smile. “I think we’re ready to order. The half-pint will have French toast.”
“And to drink?” the waitress asked.
Nathan looked at Cheryl.
She sighed. “Milk. And she’ll have the applesauce.”
“What will you have, ma’am?”
Ma’am? Cheryl wanted to roll her eyes. “Chicken-salad sandwich with the side salad. Milk to drink.”
Josh ordered his pancakes.
“And what will you have?” The server looked at Nathan.
“What beer do you have on tap?”
Cheryl stiffened.
The server laughed. “We don’t serve alcohol.”
“Shucks.” Nathan winked. “I’ll have a burger.”
“Which one?” The server flipped the menu open to the burger choices.
Nathan didn’t even look. “What’s your spiciest burger, darlin’?”
“The jalapeño burger.”
“Then that’s what I want.”
He’d said he could read. Cheryl didn’t believe him.
After the server left, Nathan asked, “What else do we need to pick up?”
She handed him the list.
He looked through it. “We ticked off a lot.”
Could he identify the items they’d bought? She handed him one of Josh’s crayons. “Go ahead and cross them off.”
His eyes narrowed. Looking through the list, he struck a couple of items, folded it and tucked the paper in his shirt pocket.
When their food came, Nathan watched her cut Josh’s pancakes, then he cut Isabella’s French toast. “Is it good?”
Isabella nodded. She picked up a piece with her fingers and dipped it in the syrup he’d poured.
Cheryl wanted to tell the girl to use her fork, but that was Nathan’s responsibility.
They were quiet until Josh said, “We forgot to get paper for my easel.”
“Da—” Nathan stopped and then said, “Shoot. We’ll fix that.”
Josh sighed. “I wanted to draw the bug.”
“The praying mantis?” Nathan asked.
“Yeah. That mantis thing.”
“We still have to go to another shop,” Cheryl warned. “It’ll be bedtime when we get home.”
Nathan leaned over to Josh. “I used to use stuff my dad had from the construction site.”
“That’s ’cause you had a dad. Mine died.” Josh dragged a pancake through his syrup.
Cheryl swallowed, not looking at Nathan. “Josh...” But she didn’t know what to say.
“I’m sorry your dad died.” Nathan squirmed in his chair. “But if we have time, there’s paper in the carriage house that might work for now.”
“Cool.” Josh dug back into his dinner.
Cheryl took a few bites of her sandwich and then pushed it around her plate. She didn’t feel like eating anymore.
She wanted this night to end. It should have been her and Brad having dinner with their kids. Not a clueless man she’d rather avoid.
* * *
NATHAN TUCKED THE dinner receipt away. Assuming the numbers hadn’t twisted, he’d fed four people for his usual bar tab.
Cheryl led the kids back to the car, this time letting Josh push the stroller.
She’d gotten quiet after her son had announced his dad was dead. Nathan was pretty sure her husband had been killed overseas.
He might have hated his own childhood, hated being labeled the other twin, the dumb twin, but at least their family had been intact.
Since Cheryl was helping him out, the least he could do was get her to smile sometime during the evening. He was pretty good with the ladies.
“Thank you for dinner,” Cheryl said, climbing into the driver’s seat after the kids were strapped in.
“Thank you for helping me,” Nathan said. “I really appreciate it.”
“Yeah, thanks for dinner,” Josh chimed from the backseat.
As usual, Isabella didn’t say a word. He drummed his fingers on his shorts. Should he get her checked out? He leaned over to Cheryl. “How often do kids have to go to the...” He lost the word. Damn. That hadn’t happened all evening. “You know, where they get shots and stuff.”
“The doctor?”
He nodded.
“By her age, once a year unless they’re sick.” She backed out of the parking spot. “Did you find vaccination records in the stuff her mother gave you?”
“I don’t know.”
“I
could look through it for you.” She kept her eyes on the road.
Crap. She thought he couldn’t read. He could figure out if Heather had given him medical records. He hoped. “I’ll check.”
She didn’t say anything. Just focused on the streets. Fine. He knew what he could and couldn’t do.
Cheryl pulled into the parking lot of a Babies “R” Us.
“She’s not a baby,” he said. See, he could read.
“They sell more than baby things.” She held up a hand. “This is the easiest place to grab what you need.”
“Okay.” He unbuckled his daughter. “Are we talking about a lot of things?” he asked, lifting the girl out of the car.
“Depends on what ‘a lot’ means to you.” She took Josh’s hand.
“Guess it’s good I haven’t spent much money lately.” Hell, he’d been living at his parents’ house half the time he’d been back in Savannah.
He took Isabella’s hand. She looked up at him silently with those deep brown eyes.
The door whooshed open. Cheryl said something to Josh, who ran ahead and pulled out a cart. She’d made her son feel useful and burned out some of his energy. How would he learn to be that good a parent?
“Bed first.” Cheryl led the way. Was she familiar with the store or was she reading the signs he could barely interpret.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
He looked at the beds. There were cribs and short beds. Bunk beds and a massive white-and-pink princess bed. He turned in a circle. “How do we pick?”
“How much do you want to spend?”
He looked at the price tag. “Is this thousand bucks just for the bed or the whole set?”
She peeked at the tag he was holding. “The whole set.”
He rubbed a hand on his face. “And I need a bunch of other crap, too.”
“Language,” she muttered. “Yes, you need other things besides a bed and dresser. But you don’t have to spend this much.”
She took Isabella’s hand. “What bed do you like, sweetheart?”
The little girl pointed at an all-white bedroom set covered with a pink-and-pale-green comforter. It was a low platform bed.
Cheryl checked the information. “It comes with a railing, so she won’t fall out. There’s storage and a small bookshelf at the foot of the bed. And storage in the headboard, too.”
Isabella hopped on the mattress and wiggled into the pillows. A tiny smile dawned on her face.