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Without another word, I took my daughter and left.
9
Liv
I couldn’t get Maya’s words and Fletcher’s sudden coldness out of my mind as I drove over to Della’s house. For some reason, I didn’t feel like I was welcome at the house right now, but I knew that was silly. It was my place now too. I just needed some time to decompress after the world’s longest day.
So I spread out on the floor in Della’s living room, staring at the ceiling as she cooked supper for me.
“I’ve never understood why you insist on lying on the floor,” she muttered as she handed me a Cayman Jack margarita.
I took it from her, groaning. “I’ve already told you; the ground is always there for me.”
She chuckled, sitting next to me cross-legged and then taking a long swig from her own drink. “Newton would agree with you.”
I stared at the popcorn ceiling and then the fan, following one blade as it spun around. “I thought I did good with Maya today. Not perfect, but good. So why do I feel so bad?”
“Because it’s not the kind of job you can clock out of,” Della said, tucking a strand of curly hair behind her ear. Even though she always wore her red hair up in a bun, curls were constantly breaking free.
“What do you mean?” I asked, rolling my head to the side to look at her.
“It’s not like my job where the paperwork is sitting on my desk waiting for tomorrow. Maya’s still hurting whether or not you’re on the clock.”
I looked back up at the ceiling. “You should have seen his face.”
“When you told him about Maya?”
I shook my head. “When I touched his arm.” I blinked back the memory. “He looked so disgusted that I was touching him, and he pulled his arm away so fast. I know it’s pathetic to say, but it makes me wonder if he was that grossed out when he was giving me the exam, but he had to touch me for that.”
Della shoved my thigh with her foot. “Stop it right now. That man has issues that have nothing to do with you.”
I let out a sigh and sat up, drinking from my margarita. “Why do they make these taste so damn good?”
She chuckled, making her lips spread thin and her big cheeks squint her eyes. “So you’ll drink them. Duh. Come on, dinner’s ready.”
We ate our food together, and she told me about her day of work at the insurance office. We giggled way too much about the guy who filed a claim on his car because his neighbor’s goats climbed all over the hood and left dents.
She offered to let me stay over after I finished helping her with dishes, but I shook my head. “I need to go all in on this job and make it work. Can’t do that if I don’t go back.”
She gave me a thoughtful look, and this close, I could see the dozens of freckles dusting her cheeks and nose. “You still like him, don’t you?”
“Thanks for dinner.” I gave her a hug and purposely avoided the question. “Love you.”
She waved goodbye, and I drove back to the house, hoping I could make this job work. Trying to ignore the fact that Fletcher’s silent dismissal hurt more than anything his daughter had said out loud.
* * *
For the next few days,Maya tested me to my wit’s end, “accidentally” spitting chewing gum in my hair, dumping a toad in my boot, and refusing to eat at least one out of three meals I made a day. But at the end of every day, I looked her in her pretty little hazel eyes, smiled, and said, “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Because no matter how tough she acted, I couldn’t stop hearing her say, “Maybe I’ll make enough money for Mommy to come back.”
I wasn’t going to be another person to walk out on her. But Friday at five, I retreated to my cottage, declined an invitation to go out with Hen and Della, and turned on the TV to veg out on the couch.
Watching that girl and keeping my cool took every bit of energy I had.
Half an hour intoYellowstone, a knock sounded on the door. I glanced up, seeing Fletcher through the window. He smiled, holding up a bottle of wine and two glasses.
Grinning, I got up and walked to the door, opening it.