by Nan Dixon
“We’re good. I’ll keep an eye on Eddie.” Jed tipped his head to the other bathroom. “He’s coming along, but still needs to be watched.”
And Nathan should have been there to monitor and guide Eddie. It was the first time he’d felt guilty about leaving a project in a supervisor’s hands. “I’ll check now before we head out.”
The colors in the women’s bathroom were similar, but lighter. It had a bigger footprint than the men’s room, something Abby had insisted on. “Looking good,” he said.
Eddie grinned. “I like laying tile.”
Nathan stepped closer. “You’re doing a good job, too.”
The kid nodded. “Thanks, boss.”
Boss? Pop was boss.
But this crew hadn’t seen Pop on-site in months. Nathan was Forester Construction to the employees.
He was Boss, Daddy and...lost without Cheryl.
“Come on, short stuff.” He tickled Issy and she giggled. “Let’s head upstairs.”
She wiggled and he let her down. When she started to run, he warned, “Slowly.”
Issy grinned, but slowed to a fast walk. He followed as she clung to the spiral staircase railing. She’d changed so much since she’d arrived.
With everything going on in his life, he’d stopped looking for Heather. He needed to get back to that.
As they rounded the corner, they found Cheryl and Josh standing in front of his apartment. Pain gripped him like the clamps they’d used to build Abby’s staircase. Maybe that was why he and Cheryl could never work. They were two objects forced together, that couldn’t stick without clamps and glue. Whatever they’d had cementing their relationship had failed.
“Josh!” Issy ran toward him like they’d been apart for years.
Cheryl and Nathan gasped.
Josh held out his arms and Issy gave him a hug.
Cheryl swallowed hard. Was she holding back tears because of Issy speaking or because she was afraid of him?
“What do you want?” His question was harsh. Seeing her and Josh was like jumping into the ocean with open wounds. He needed to heal and it wouldn’t happen if she kept showing up.
“We’d like...” She took a deep breath. “We need to talk to you. Please.”
He went to brush by them, but stopped. He didn’t want to catch her apple scent and remember the other times she’d been close to him. “Door’s open.”
Josh took Issy’s hand and led her into the apartment.
Nathan and Cheryl were alone in the hall. He crossed his arms. What hadn’t she said this morning?
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
He stared. Couldn’t even respond. Instead, he pointed at the door. “I have to make some calls. Can we get...this done?”
Her shoulders drooped, but she entered the apartment. And her damn apple scent teased him as he followed her into the room.
Josh and Issy sat on the sofa. Cheryl joined the kids and he took the recliner.
“Josh?” Cheryl prompted.
“Mr. Nathan.” The kid’s hands formed fists in his lap. “I’m...sorry.” The words exploded out of his mouth.
Nathan glanced at Cheryl, but she watched her son.
“For what?” he asked.
“For throwing the paint.” Josh chewed on his lower lip. “For taking the beer.”
Nathan huffed out a breath. “Okay.”
Josh nodded, starting to get off the sofa.
“Josh.” His mother pointed at the cushion.
Josh wiggled back onto the seat. “And for messin’ with the medicine.”
Nathan exhaled a shaky breath. He’d worried he’d screwed up. Worried he was a bad father. “I didn’t give Issy the wrong dose?”
Josh shook his head, squirming. His eyes were as big as a circular saw blade and almost as shiny. Issy was curled in a ball, always aware of the tension in the room.
“Josh would like to make it up to you,” Cheryl said.
“How would he do that?” How could a kid make up for destroying what he and Cheryl had almost had?
“Is there anything he can do at the work site?” Cheryl asked.
Pop had always taken Nathan and Daniel to job sites, but Josh wasn’t a good candidate. “He doesn’t listen.”
“I will.” Josh looked at his mother then back to Nathan. “I’ll listen.”
Cheryl mouthed please.
What would Pop do? “One hour of cleaning every night for two weeks.”
“Two weeks?” Josh whined.
Cheryl shot Josh a look. “He’ll be there.”
Her son nodded, crossing his arms.
“Can the kids go to Issy’s room?” Cheryl asked.
Nathan waved and they took off.
Cheryl’s brown eyes were as big as her son’s. “I’m sorry.”
His stomach tightened. “What are you sorry for?”
Cheryl knelt and took his hands.
He wanted to pull away. Wanted to pace. He didn’t want her groveling at his feet. “What?”
“I’m sorry. For what I said, what I believed. I was wrong.” Her brown eyes shimmered with tears. “Please, forgive me.”
“You’re sorry.”
She nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek.
He couldn’t weaken. She’d lashed out at him. Expected the worst of him. He couldn’t go through life waiting for her to call him stupid. He didn’t need that from the woman he loved. Everything ached, but he pushed the pain back with all his other childhood hurts. Cheryl’s reaction proved once again that he wasn’t normal.
Standing, he jerked his hands out of hers. “Fine.”
She sat back. “Fine?”
He stalked into the kitchen. A beer would hit the spot right now, but that wasn’t him anymore. He didn’t know who he was anymore.
But he wasn’t a punching bag for Cheryl and her son. “Yes, fine. I accept your apology.” He pulled out coffee and filled the machine.
Her sneakers squeaked against the floor. “And what about us?”
He snorted. “You made it clear I wasn’t good enough for you or your son.”
She laid her head against his back. “I was scared this morning.”
He shifted away from her, filling the carafe with water. “We were always short-term,” he lied.
Cheryl stared at her feet, her hair falling in front of her face.
He wanted to brush the hair back. Wanted to ease her hurt by kissing her, holding her.
Instead he filled the coffeepot. He needed to protect himself. He needed to be alone with his broken heart.
He’d never be truly alone again. He had Issy. His daughter would be enough. If Heather returned, he would fight for custody.
“Please, Nathan.” Cheryl held out her hands. “I don’t want to end what we have.”
He shook his head. “You did that this morning.”
“I was tired and scared. Why can’t you understand that?”
“I understand you believed I got drunk around the kids. That I would throw a beer at a child.” He shook his head. “You believed the worst of me.”
She stumbled back a step. Her lips trembled. “But I love you. I’d planned to tell you last night. I...I love you.”
Her words tore holes in his heart. “You love me and you still said those things to me? Believed I was that kind of monster?”
“Haven’t you ever made a mistake?” She raked her fingers through her hair. “Haven’t you ever screwed up?”
“Yeah.” Falling in love with her was his biggest mistake.
“Then can’t you forgive me?”
“I did.”
A choked sob erupted and she slapped a hand across her mouth. “I don’t want to lose you.”
> He gripped the edge of the counter to keep from reaching for her.
“I’ve lost you, haven’t I?” she asked. She must have stepped closer because her voice came from near his shoulder.
“Daddy,” a soft voice murmured.
His head jerked up. “What’s up, short stuff?”
He scooped his daughter into his arms. Now he couldn’t reach for Cheryl. His arms and life were full.
“Paint?” Issy asked, wrapping her arms around his neck.
He hugged her tight. “I can’t.”
“I promised to take the kids this morning,” Cheryl said. “I hope we can still be friends.” Her voice cracked on the last word.
He turned back to Cheryl. “You would do that?”
She nodded. Her face was pale and it was hard not to feel sorry for her, but he had to take care of himself and Issy.
If Cheryl took the kids this morning, he could work with Eddie and make phone calls. He could find out if the psychologist would see Issy.
“Fine. I’ll take the kids in the afternoon.”
But nothing in his life was fine. Not anymore.
* * *
NATHAN AND JOSH waited in a separate room at the doctor’s office. He inhaled. At least the psychologist had agreed to see Issy.
Maybe this wasn’t necessary. She’d called him Daddy. Warmth filled his chest. Daddy.
But there was still the gruesome picture she’d drawn. A little blond figure under a bloody body. Please find out why Issy’s afraid.
Josh flipped another page in his sketchbook. Nathan caught a glimpse of faces with red spots all over them.
He nodded at the page. “Self-portrait?”
“What’s that?” Josh drew a circle with his pencil.
“A picture of yourself.”
“I guess.” Josh shrugged.
Whatever friendship Nathan and Josh had developed was gone. He didn’t have the energy to battle with the kid. Taking care of him didn’t mean he had to care for him.
Nathan pressed on his chest. There’d been a dull ache there ever since Cheryl had kicked him out of her life. The ache had deepened when she’d begged his forgiveness.
“I can’t get the nose,” Josh said, pointing at his picture.
Nathan looked at the drawing. “It’s Issy.”
Josh screwed up his mouth. “I thought you’d like a picture of her.”
“I never liked drawing people.” But Nathan remembered how. “You’ve got a nice oval. Now you need to split everything...”
Josh waited.
Instead of trying to find the words, Nathan took a sheet of paper and a pencil. Then he drew an oval and added a line down the middle and one through the center.
“I have to cut everything in two.” Josh erased everything but his circle and then drew lines.
“Good.” Nathan figured it was easier to draw along with him.
They worked together, adding in eyes and nose, sketching mouths. If Nathan hadn’t had so much to worry about, he would have thought they were getting along. But he knew better.
Josh filled in Issy’s hair. He stared at his paper. “Are you my mom’s boyfriend?”
The ache that had eased while he and Josh sketched was back. “No.”
“But—” Josh tapped his pencil on the tabletop.
“But what?”
“You touch her. Hold her hand.”
“It won’t happen again.” Nathan glanced sideways at the kid. “That should make you happy.”
“You made my mom cry this morning.” Josh’s hands clenched.
“Like I said, it won’t happen again.”
“Mr. Forester?” The receptionist entered their room. “Dr. Rebecca would like you to come in now.”
He looked over at Josh.
“Your son will be just fine here,” the receptionist added.
“He’s not my dad,” Josh snapped.
“It’s okay, Josh.” But the kid’s words stung. Lately, every mistake he made with Josh hurt. “Be good.”
Josh didn’t look up. And probably wouldn’t obey. Hopefully there weren’t any beer cans lying around.
The receptionist led Nathan to where Dr. Rebecca held open her office door. “Come in.”
The psychologist was every child’s dream grandmother. Her face was round with deep smile lines and her eyes twinkled.
Issy played with a dollhouse in the corner.
“Did she say anything?” Nathan asked, his voice low.
The doctor shook her head. “No. We did creative communications.”
“I just want her life to be normal.” Something he’d never had.
The doctor gestured to the two chairs near her desk and they sat. “That’s a reasonable hope.”
“And...?”
She handed him a picture.
Nathan swallowed. It was similar to the picture Issy had drawn in day care. Red crayon sprayed from a stick man. A smaller stick person with blond hair was smashed under the injured man.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s what she drew before. It’s awful.”
“Since she wouldn’t talk, we communicated by pictures. Here’s one she drew of herself.”
The doctor handed him another piece of paper. This time it was a circle. The face had eyes, yellow hair and a row of x’s where the mouth should be.
“I don’t understand.” Nathan flexed his fingers, trying to keep them from forming fists. “What am I looking at? Her pediatrician said there’s nothing physically wrong with her.”
“I know.” Dr. Rebecca sat back and looked directly at him. “Do you know where her mother is?”
“I can’t find her. She said she was going into treatment, but...” He dragged his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know where to look.”
“Once Isabella drew this picture, I had her draw one with her mother and one with you.” She handed him two more pictures.
The first one must be Heather. The blonde woman had something in her hand. Her bright red lips frowned.
“Is this supposed to be Issy?” He pointed to a figure in the corner of the paper. It looked like a ball with arms.
Dr. Rebecca nodded.
The next picture had the blond stick figure on the shoulders of a big stick person. There were smiles on both their faces. He swallowed back the tears that prickled his eyes.
“It’s obvious she’s not afraid of you.” The psychologist tapped first the bigger face and then the little one. “You make her happy.”
Nathan nodded, unable to speak.
“I think something traumatic happened and she believes she can’t talk about it.”
“What can I do?” he choked out. “How can I help her?”
“Do what you’re doing. Make her feel safe.” She patted his shoulder. “I’d like to see her once a week. I suggested if she couldn’t talk, she might sing.”
He nodded. “Should I push her?”
“Not push. Encourage.” She stood. “I’m afraid I have another appointment.”
“Thank you.” He picked up the picture of him and Issy. “May I take these?”
“Of course.” She patted his arm. “She trusts you. You’re doing something right.”
He nodded gratefully. “Hey, short stuff.”
His daughter looked up, her eyes filled with worry.
“Let’s go to grandma’s and see if she’s made any cookies.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“WHY DIDN’T YOU tell us about Issy’s drawing before?” Pop asked Nathan.
Issy and Josh were in the tree house with a container of Mom’s cookies; no one wanted Pop exposed to their germs any more than necessary. Nathan, Pop and Mom watched them from the shaded patio.
“Because he didn’t want you to worry,” Mom scolded.
“I’m done with chemo. I just have to have my hip drilled again.”
Nathan cringed. He’d been there for Pop’s first bone marrow test. Seeing the old man groggy with pain had been awful.
“Why weren’t we invited to the party?” Daniel called from the house. He and Bess came through the doorway carrying a twelve-pack of beer.
“It was spontaneous,” Mom said. “Can you all stay for dinner?”
“Sure,” Nathan said.
“We’d love to.” Bess put her arm around Daniel’s waist. He brushed a kiss on her nose.
Nathan swallowed. He and Cheryl could have had that closeness. They could have relied on each other. Could have shared the little looks his brother and Bess enjoyed.
“Hey, bro.” Daniel offered him a beer.
Nathan shook his head.
“My brother refused a beer?” Daniel slapped his hand on his chest.
“Knock it off.” Alcohol had caused enough problems for him.
Bess took a seat next to him and touched his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
No way was he going to talk about him and Cheryl. Instead, he went through what he knew—again—for Daniel and Bess. Let them look at the pictures Issy had drawn. It didn’t get easier in the telling.
“How can I help?” Daniel held his gaze.
Nathan stared into brown eyes that were identical to his own. “You’ll help?”
“Whatever you need,” Daniel vowed.
“Thanks,” he choked out. “I have to find Heather and reading...it’s too hard.”
Daniel nodded. “We’ll work together.”
Pop cleared his throat. “I’ve got something to say.”
All the adults turned to him.
“Deb, can you get the...” Pop tipped his head to the house.
Mom touched his leg as she stood. “I’d love to.”
Nathan couldn’t take any more bad news. “What’s up?”
“Hold your horses.” Pop grinned.
Mom came back with a box and set it next to Pop’s lawn chair.
“I’m proud of the way you boys pulled together and kept the business running after I got sick.” He turned to Nathan. “You gave up your life in Atlanta.” He turned to Daniel. “You took the reins and didn’t let go.”