“Let’s start walking up and I’ll tell you. There’s only half hour left and I want to watch some before it’s over.”
We get out and he comes around to my side. “You didn’t say it was my idea, did you?” I ask, wishing I’d thought of that sooner.
“No and he was actually all for it. Not because it makes it easier on him either. He said Aunt Sheri had mentioned it before she died.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah, and as we speak, he’s interviewing with a head hunter.”
“That’s great. Did something change?” I ask as we walk and his shoulder brushes against me.
He shows me a lop-sided grin and gives an exaggerated nod. “Gramps happened. Hate to admit he had to step in. He owns the house we are all staying in.”
“Oh.”
“Yep. And he sat down his sons like they were teenagers and told them to get their acts together, or he was going to make them move out.”
“Wow, I knew I liked that man.”
“Yeah, he made me feel like a chump but whatever, it’s done.”
I giggle and he stops me by grabbing my shoulders just before we reach the door. “Wait. Smile bigger.”
I avert my eyes but my smile betrays me and goes wide.
“There it is,” he says, referring to my dimple he seems to be obsessed with. The way his eyes panned from my cheek to my eyes to my lips, makes me feel like he’s going to kiss me. My pulse quickens but I don’t move. “I think it’s my lucky charm,” he says.
He fades back and I let out a breath before he pulls the door open for me.
Someone is at the front desk, so we wait by the door and suddenly I feel nervous, hoping I didn’t push them all into something that isn’t the right time. I must have missed something he said because he elbows me and leans in.
“Hey, you may have gotten this whole thing started, but it’s the right thing.” He watches me intently, and I marvel at how he always seems to read my mind.
“I know you all want to give the kids a good life, and I’m glad to be a small part of it. I just know you’re on your way to moving forward in a way that will make Nina and Sheri proud.”
“Thanks. And you’re right.” He nods and puts his hand on the small of my back when the front desk attendant becomes available.
I stay silent when he signs in and the woman checks his name in the computer. When she asks about me, he tells her I’m the nanny and still I stay silent, holding back a reaction on my face as well. She tells him it’s fine this time since I’m with him but that Belle’s dad will need to add me to the list if I ever come alone.
We are taken to a viewing room and once again his hand finds my back, something I could easily get used to. There are four monitors, two on the inside of the classroom and two on the playground. The woman from the front, whose nametag reads, Miss Tami, followed us in and is now standing next to one of the outdoor monitors. “The sound is distracting so it’s only visual.”
Most of the children are outside, with just a few doing activities inside. “There she is,” I say, pointing to the monitor on our right.
“She’s been doing very well,” Miss Tami says. “A bit behind on the pre-K curriculum but that’s totally fine.”
“Curriculum?” Logan questions. Then he brings his attention right back to the monitor.
“Don’t worry, Logan. It’s just the word we use, but there’s absolutely no pressure for her at this point. As I told your uncle, we believe in nurturing learning at the child’s pace.”
“Good.” He nods but stays focused on Belle.
I watch him watching her because the look on his face is so pleasant, so prideful. I feel his hand grab mine and he entwines our fingers. Logically, it’s out of place, but it feels too right to pull away.
A moment later…I feel his fingers caressing my bracelet, the soft one, which makes me think something is wrong. I see his brows pull together. I turn back to the screen and scrunch up my face at the visual of Belle getting right up in some boy’s face. We can’t hear what they’re saying but she really seems to be giving it to him. The boy takes a step back and Belle moves forward with no indication of struggle after only getting her boot off yesterday.
“Don’t do it, Belly Bean,” he whispers. “Don’t do it.”
Logan squeezes my hand right before Belle fists the kid’s collar and pulls him close as if she’s in some black and white detective show, telling a thug to wise up.
We both stand and hold our breath as Belle releases the boy’s shirt and gives him a shove with the other hand. He stumbles backward and lands on his butt. An adult comes rushing over to him. Belle strides over to some snack tables, casually like nothing happened. She plants herself next to a little girl, draping her arm around her shoulders.
“Oh, my,” Miss Tami says finally. “That’s not a good sign on her first day.”
Logan releases my hand and brings both of his in front of him as if in prayer. “I promise you, Miss Tami, this is not a normal thing for Belle. I’m sure if we talk to her, there’s an explanation.”
“I would hope not, but you should know we have a zero-tolerance policy against violence.”
“Violence?” I say, my voice louder than it should have been. “They’re preschoolers.”
Logan gives me a quick side glare. “I understand. But it’s her first day, and I’m sure she was just scared or something. I’ll talk to her. Trust me. It won’t happen again.”
Miss Tami looks down her nose at him and then glances at the wall clock. “It’s almost pick-up time. Why don’t you give Miss Bridget and me a moment with Belle and then you can speak to her as well.”
“Thank you. I will.”
“And I assume you’ll let her father know?”
“First thing.” He smiles and nods, grabs my hand, and then pulls me out of the viewing room.
“Well, that sucked,” he whispers to me in the waiting room.
“It’s going to be okay,” I tell him. When he looks at me with a noticeable crease in his forehead, I say, “Imagine how many times your dad was in this exact same position.”
He laughs and nods, but when Miss Tami walks through the room and glances our way, he reins it in.
We both stay composed until the door shuts and then pull our collective snickers into a close huddle.
In the car on the way home, Belle is still grinning from her surprise seeing me. “Are you going to ice cream with us, Maui?”
I look back over my shoulder. “Have you been practicing my name, Belle?”
She frowns and shrugs.
“Answer, Belle,” Logan tells her.
“I have but I like Maui better.”
“Me too,” Logan says under his breath.
I ignore him and say, “Can I hear it, please?”
She scrunches up her face and takes a deep breath. “Mau-lee.”
“Better.”
She raises both hands, palm up, toward her shoulders. “Are you going to get ice cream with us, Mau-lee?”
I look at Logan with raised eyebrows until he turns to me. Then I give him an added head tilt.
“Sorry, Belly Bean. No ice cream,” he says.
“But Daddy said.”
I could tell he was on the fence, not wanting to disappoint Belle but wanting to make this a lesson even more. Maybe it even scared him, this whole thing. I suddenly feel guilty for the pressure I added to his already intense situation. He is a good man and this is a good family. Just struggling to make it through devastating loss. There is nothing I can do to reverse this course now, though.
I touch Logan’s arm and turn my body to face the backseat. “I know you thought you were sticking up for Alexis, but—”
“Logan says if we’re tough enough to handle it, then we need to fight for people who aren’t tough enough.”
I can’t help but smile. “That’s true. But you’re in school now and in school there are rules.”
“Yeah, and it’s hands off or there’s no
ice cream for you, little miss.” He looks in his rearview mirror at her. “Next time just tell a grownup.”
“But Justice said that’s snitching. He said snitches get stitches, and I don’t want to go to the hospital again.”
“It’s not snitching if someone might get hurt,” I tell her.
“That rule doesn’t count until you’re older,” Logan says in the mirror. “Okay?”
“Okay,” she says, bouncing her feet against the car seat. “But if I get stitches, I’m gonna be mad at you.”
Chapter 12
Mollie
I’m sitting on the closed toilet seat across from a bubbly maiden wearing purple goggles. She submerges on one end of the tub and emerges on the other, looking like she’s just performed an incredibly difficult trick.
“Wow, amazing,” I tell her. “But how about working on getting clean now?”
“Gramps says just soaking in these bubbles gets me clean enough.”
“He’s probably right.” I laugh.
Logan went to pick up Ryder from the bike jumps, whatever that is. I offered to stay, but I’m suddenly getting a bad vibe about being here. My visits are becoming more frequent and not everyone seems to think it’s a great idea. In fact, I’ve gotten some looks that make me glad I’m not a mind reader. I understand why they feel some hostility toward me; I only wish Logan could have found a way to avoid telling them it was me who’d threatened to call CPS.
“So, what’s this show we are watching tonight?” I ask Belle, feeling a little sneaky.
“Gramps woves Pawn Stars,” she says and then blows some bubbles from her hands.
I remember Logan telling me that, but that doesn’t seem like what he was talking about in the car.
“L-l-oves. Do your cousins like that show?”
She shrugs and dives down under the water. Guess I’ll just have to be patient. I reach across her to the back edge of the tub and grab the shampoo bottle. When she pops up and sees me, she goes right back down. I tap her shoulder and she shakes her head, still underneath the soapy film.
“Belle, c’mon. I need to wash your hair.”
“What are you still doing here?”
I turn and see Frank in the doorway, frowning down on me. I open my mouth but am too afraid to say the wrong thing.
Belle pops up and says, “Daddy! I’m taking a bubble bath.”
“I can see that.” His words are matter-of-fact. Then he turns to me. “I’ll take it from here.”
“I w
as just about to wash her hair if you want me to—”
“I’m perfectly capable of washing my daughter’s hair…and I don’t need a supervisor.”
I stand, my chest tight with sadness and a little embarrassment. I look at the floor as I squeeze by him in the close space, and we change places.
“Mollie!”
I turn in the doorway and give her a quick wink. “You said my name.”
“Are you leaving, Mollie?”
I look at Frank, and he turns his head without a word.
“I probably should, but I’ll see you soon.”
I move into the hall but stop when I’m out of view. Guilt peppers little daggers at me but this is something I need to do, at least for a minute. It’s not like I think he’s a horrible person. Maybe I want some hope, something to hold on to.
“Scoot over here, Belle.” His tone sounds defeated. Maybe things didn’t go well at the head hunters.
“I missed you today, Daddy.”
No reply. I hear the shampoo bottle click open. My pulse kicks up at the thought I might be caught here, but I need to stay a moment longer.
“Daaa-deee! You got it in my eyes.”
“You need to keep them closed.”
“I did. Mommy never got it in my eyes.”
“Here, wipe them with this.”
“I want Mommy.” Her tone just about breaks my heart. It’s not whiney or mad but sad, defeated like her dad.
The front door opens and Justice walks in, catching my gaze, which I can only imagine is filled with remorse.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
Nervously I turn my head back down the hall but realize I have no reason to go that way. I face him again and step forward, praying Frank doesn’t come out to the hall. “How was practice?” I ask, hoping to get the focus off me.
“Sucked.”
I stop in front of him and notice a red welt on his left cheek just below the outer corner of his eye. “Looks like a rough one.”
“This didn’t happen at practice.” His voice is low and angry. He shoulders by me and goes to the kitchen.
I follow him but keep my distance. I stop in the doorway, watching him open the fridge and look around. From my view, it looks pretty empty.
“There’s never any damn food in this place now!” He slams the door, whirls around to the cupboard and pulls it open before grabbing a box of cereal. I step in as he sits at the table and starts digging into the box and eating multi-colored rings by the handful.
“Are you going to make that your dinner?”
“Why? You gonna call the cops?”
What have I done? I try not to take the remark personally, though that’s exactly what it is. But he’s obviously hurting for more than one reason, and he and I have mostly gotten along up to now. “Of course not,” I tell him, opening the freezer and taking out an icepack. I wrap it in a paper towel and offer it up. “This’ll keep the swelling down.”
He stares me down, continuing to eat the cereal, so I set the wrapped icepack on the table in front of him.
“Do you want to talk about what happened?” I ask, gesturing to his face.
“Not much to say. Some of my teammates are getting sick of my ass. Say I ain’t willing to take one for the team.”
“I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but things will get better.”
As I’m easing myself into a chair, he says, “You can’t come in here and start acting like our mom.”
I pull my lips tight but don’t speak. I can tell he’s got a few more things to get off his chest as he sets the box down. His eyes become glassy. “Because if you were my mom…you’d make sure we had some good food to eat. And if you were my mom, you’d have some better advice than that shit.”
I swallow hard and try not to let his words affect me. “I’m sorry, Justice. I know this has to be so, so hard for you.” I’ve never been much of a crier but I feel the tug of tears behind my eyes and the constriction creeps up my throat. That won’t help either of us, though, so I swallow again and breathe. “I’m not trying to be anyone’s mom. I thought we were friends. I was only trying to help…”
He ignores my reply and continues his rant. “Everyone around here would be happy and nice instead of a bunch of assholes, who are actually probably worse since you started coming around.”
“Hey!”
We both flip our gazes to the doorway, where Logan and Ryder stand. This is going to get much worse before it gets better.
“Ryder, go do your homework,” Logan says firmly.
“I don’t have any.”
“Just go. Check on your cousins.”
Ryder smiles when he walks by me, gives me a little wave. Then he turns back over his shoulder and points to his phone. “Half hour.”
Logan shakes his head and walks up to the table. “We’ll talk about your face later, but right now I want to know why you think it’s okay to talk to Mollie that way.”
Justice pushes back his chair and gets up. “I’m going to shower.”
Logan grabs his arm and turns him around. “We’re not done, not by a long shot.”
Justice yanks his arm away. “You’re not my dad…and she’s not my mom. And since I don’t see either of them here, I’ll do what I want.”
Logan gets right up in his face. “Is that right? Is that the kind of house you want to live in? Is that the world you want to live in? Where no one is accountable for anything?”
Just
ice turns his face to the side, avoiding Logan’s piercing gaze.
“You wanna live in that world, then it goes both ways. I could make it so you have a matching set of those,” Logan says, nodding to the welt on Justice’s cheek. “If that’s how you want to play it.”
When Justice’s eyes glaze over, I touch Logan’s arm. “It’s okay. He’s had a bad night. He’s going through a lot.”
“I don’t need you to defend me,” Justice says, pushing away from his half-brother. He holds his hands up. “Okay, I get it. I’m sorry.”
His tone is so clipped Logan looks like he’s about to go off again. But instead, he softens. “You think your mom would be proud of this behavior? You disrespecting someone…a woman?” Justice swipes at his eye before Logan continues. “It literally pains me to see you treat Mollie that way.” He pauses again, breathing deeply. His words and his demeanor affect me so profoundly I can barely breathe. With his hands on his hips, he lowers his head, staring slightly to his right. “You know…it may have been doctors who operated on me”—he gestures down to his leg—“gave me this damn thing, but it was nurses…people like Mollie who really saved me. She’s here because she cares and when she’s in this house, you’ll show her some respect! And me for that matter.”
I notice Justice’s face transform when Logan mentions his leg. I have no idea what this family went through while Logan was away, fighting for our country, and then suffering without them, so far from his family.
Justice blinks away the tears he won’t let fall. “I’m sorry. I just…I got my ass handed to me tonight, and I can’t take much more. Can I go now?” He stares down at the floor until Logan gives him the okay.
I’m practically in tears myself, but I somehow hold it together enough to stand and walk over to him. “Listen, I appreciate that but I really should go.”
His eyes are laced with concern. “Don’t—”
“This whole thing… I never should have started this. I don’t belong here.”
I step away, but he grabs my wrist. “Please,” he says. My heart lurches in my chest, and I let him pull me close to him. He reaches to my chin and nudges it up. “This…” He slowly lowers his lids and sighs. “This is Justice. He acts like nothing bothers him and then he blows up. You just happened to be in the line of fire.”
Building Bridges (Bridges Brothers Book 1) Page 10