Page 9

CHAPTER SEVEN-AND-A-HALF

BABYSITTING AN ENERGETIC six-year-old for two hours, Charlotte learned, actually felt more like babysitting for six hours.

It started with Lucy exclaiming, “Kin-kinet… sand?!” Then she turned confused eyes Charlotte’s way. “What’s that?”

Charlotte kneeled next to her and took the box from her. She’d asked Autumn to get some sort of DIY craft thing as Sutton had informed her that she wanted to get Lucy more into some activities that were calming for the evenings.

She studied it for a few seconds before saying, “Kinetic sand. It appears to be sand that is… magnetic?” She pointed out the shapes and figures made out of colorful magnetic sand on the back of the box and watched as Lucy’s eyes popped wide.

“That is so cool! Can we do it?”

“That’s why I brought it.”

She learned during this activity that she truly needn’t have worried about making conversation with Lucy because Lucy was happy to make conversation with her. She didn’t appear to notice or care that Charlotte didn’t know how to use those soft child tones that people used on young children or that she answered the same way she would answer an adult.

Treating Lucy like she was an adult, but small, seemed the best way for her to go about this.

She learned over kinetic sand that Lucy’s best friend was named Tommy, a boy with two dads, as well as what the names of Tommy’s pets—two cats, a dog, and a lizard—were. She learned every bit of first-grade gossip there was to be had and that it was far more than Charlotte would have ever expected, if she was entirely honest.

“Wow. Miles kissed Jackie on the cheek and then pushed her into the fence? I hope your teacher did something.” She frowned at the injustice of this latest recess story.

Lucy nodded sagely at her. “I told the teacher, and he got in a lot of trouble. His mom got called and everything.”

Charlotte patted her shoulder with her clean hand. “Good job.”

It was that simple for Lucy to beam at her. “Thanks!” She turned her attention back to the kinetic sand on the plate on table in front of her, her eyebrows scrunching up in a way that left Charlotte reeling. It was so similar to Sutton’s own expression.

It hit her, then, all over again that this was Sutton’s daughter . Logically, she’d never forgotten it, but emotionally, it was overwhelming whenever she thought about the fact that this little person had genetically come from Sutton. That Sutton had raised her and made her into the person she was.

Lucy, entirely unaware of the thoughts Charlotte was having, turned to face her in excitement. “Look! Charlotte! The sand is making a ball.”

She giggled at it as she held up a little hand to show off her handiwork, and it made Charlotte smile indulgently as well. “Incredible. You did really well reading the instructions.”

And she had; Charlotte had been very impressed with the fact that Lucy had been able to read how to make this all on her own. Was that normal for a six-year-old? She didn’t think so. Obviously, Sutton’s daughter was smarter than others.

Lucy’s smile turned into her absolutely beaming , and Charlotte sat up a bit straighter.

“Thank you!” Her voice raised just a bit in her excitement, and she turned her attention back to the ball in her hands, rolling it a few inches across the table. “Look!”

Charlotte diligently did and then found herself grinning along with Lucy’s giggles as she continued to manipulate the sand ball. Yes, she could definitely do this. Caleb could take his doubts and?—

Her smile slipped as she watched Lucy toss the ball several feet in the air.

Kinetic sand, she learned, was not quite the easiest cleanup, despite what the box said.

Lucy’s still-damp-from-being washed hand grabbed at Charlotte’s, tugging her down the hall twenty minutes later.

“Come on, I’ll show you my bedroom!”

It was Charlotte’s own doing; after cleaning the table and the floor and herself and Lucy’s hands and hair to the best of her ability, she’d instructed Lucy to change her pajamas.

Lucy paused as they walked down the hall, smacking her tongue against the roof of her mouth before she turned to Charlotte and stuck her tongue out up at her. “Is there sand on my tongue?”

Taken by surprise for a moment, Charlotte took a breath and bent down to study said tongue… “I believe it looks normal to me.”

Lucy coughed into her arm once before shrugging. “I think I got sand in my mouth.” She took off down toward an open door at the end of the hall only a moment later, the abrupt change in action giving Charlotte pause.

“C’mon!” Lucy called, gesturing for Charlotte to follow.

Shaking her head slightly, she did.

Her bedroom was painted a light blue, with a purple canopy bed in the corner and stuffed animals hanging down from the top. There was a bookshelf, a dresser, a large mirror and a trunk, and several see-through containers that held, as far as Charlotte could see, LEGOs, paint, some sort of science-experiment-looking material, and much more.

Lucy immediately pulled out a drawer from her dresser and dug around in it. “I wanted to wear my Ivy Abrams pajamas to show you them.” She paused, to point at herself. “Because they’re my favorites.”

“Ah. I’m unfamiliar with Ivy Abrams,” Charlotte said, still taking in the room from her perch in the doorway, her hands clasped at her waist.

Lucy dropped the clothing she was wearing as she spun around. “No way! Charlotte, that’s crazy ,” she informed her so seriously that it was damningly cute and hilarious in equal measure.

Charlotte arched an eyebrow, holding her hands up in defense. “I don’t get much reading done.”

“My grandma thinks that’s crazy. She says people should always read,” Lucy commented, clearly accepting those words as the gospel truth. She hurried over to her bookshelf and grabbed a book before hustling over to Charlotte to present it to her. “See?”

She certainly wasn’t surprised by Katherine Spencer’s thoughts on reading, she thought as she looked at the animated cover. There was a young girl on the cover, surrounded by animals, all in a cute little illustration. “I see, indeed. What does Ivy do?”

“Talks to animals and goes on adventures!” Lucy explained, looking at Charlotte as if she couldn’t quite grasp how in the world Charlotte didn’t know that. She pushed the book up at her. “Here, you can have it. It’s the first one.”

She was so earnest in that moment, so Sutton , that Charlotte felt a piece of her melt. An… unfamiliar feeling with a child. She acquiesced and took the book. “That’s very sweet, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Lucy said back, as if it was so natural and easy to be so instinctively kind. Maybe for her it was; she was Sutton’s daughter, after all.

The next hour found them playing the Nintendo Switch Charlotte had purchased and subsequently hooked up to the television in the living room.

Lucy’s eyes had widened as soon as she’d looked into the bag and seen what else she’d brought. “Mario Kart! I love Mario Kart!”

“Do you already have it?” Damn it, should she have gone with another recommendation?

“Um, no,” Lucy answered distractedly as she hugged the box—longer than her short little torso—against herself. She was newly donned in a pair of Winnie the Pooh pajamas. “My friend Malia has it, and we play at her house! I like to be Toad.”

Charlotte had no earthly idea what that meant in the moment, but she felt a sense of victorious pride that wouldn’t be quelled. She was killing this whole babysitting thing. “You want to be… a toad?”

Lucy laughed loudly, leaning her whole body against Charlotte’s arm as she kicked her legs out. “You’re so silly. Not a toad. Toad!”

Ah, well that explained everything, didn’t it?

Charlotte spent the following twenty minutes hooking the gaming system up to the TV and figuring out how to work the controllers before she learned what it meant to be Toad .

Though she’d never played a video game, her competitive nature certainly kicked in. Especially after Lucy beat her in the first cup.

She’d dropped her little hand to Charlotte’s knee and patted her there, wide eyes looking up at her as she’d said, “Don’t worry, you’ll get better.”

And somehow, the touch and the words made that competitive edge take a little break.

As they played, she learned all about Lucy’s other hobbies: how she enjoyed skateboarding because her uncle Ethan brought her on his skateboard when she was four and it had been so much fun; she’d giggled through the entire story in the sweetest way. How she’d really wanted to paint her room half blue and half orange, but Sutton had made her choose one, with the promise that they could repaint two years to the next color of her choice. How her aunties Regan and Emma had come over and helped paint and Regan had then had dabbed a color of paint on Sutton’s cheek when she hadn’t been expecting it, which had been so funny .

Lucy exhaled in a big yawn after their third cup, leaning back against the couch, using one little fist to rub her eye.

“That was really fun,” Lucy said, nodding with it after taking a moment. “Maybe you can come back and we can play again?” She looked at Charlotte, more alert after voicing the idea. She turned and reached out to take the plastic cup she’d been drinking juice from, holding it with both hands as she sat back on the couch, sipping as she watched Charlotte, clearly waiting for a response.

“Oh, I’m not taking the Switch with me,” Charlotte said, turning slightly to face her.

Blue eyes widened as Lucy jerked the cup away from her mouth. Charlotte’s own eyes widened as the liquid hit the brim but then settled back. “ Really ? Is it for me? Is it gonna stay here? That’s mine ?!”

The excitement seemed to perk her right back up, and Charlotte smiled at it, a little caught up herself at having caused it. “Of course.”

But then she realized… Sutton didn’t have any of these systems? Shit. Was Lucy not allowed to have video games? Had she just committed some sort of babysitting taboo?

But as she looked down into the sweet little face that seemed like Sutton’s in miniature, with some added freckles, she found she couldn’t take it back. It should be simple, she thought. She’d outright fought with key world leaders at this point, gone toe to toe with some people who held more power than a person probably ever should.

Saying no to a child shouldn’t be that difficult.

And yet…

“I’ll just”—she cleared her throat—“talk about it with your mom when she comes home.”

Lucy nodded sagely at her, wide-eyed and still grinning from ear to ear. “Thank you so much , Charlotte! You’re the best !”

In an action that seemed too quick to be plausible, Lucy had pushed up on her knees and launched forward—Charlotte presumed to give her a hug?

Only to send her juice all over Charlotte’s lap.

The wet splash had Charlotte sitting stock-still, and Lucy froze with it, too. She went back to grasping her cup with two hands, her mouth open as she stared at Charlotte. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Charlotte was gamely trying to hold back a grimace. The sticky juice had completely seeped into her Armani pants, and she hesitated to text Sutton.

Lucy had oh so carefully placed her cup on the table before hopping off the couch and running into, well, somewhere else in the house. She’d been out of the living room like a flash; she really could move like lightning.

She’d returned just as Charlotte carefully stood, not wanting to let any of the liquid get into the soft, comfortable material of Sutton’s couch, even as she stood for a moment and didn’t quite know what to do with herself.

Lucy came running back, presenting Charlotte with a towel, looking so solemn and sincere as she did so. “Here you go! It’s one of the good, fluffy ones. And, um, maybe you can wear some of my mama’s pants!”

Charlotte had paused at that, automatically about to refuse even as the thought sent a charge right through her at the idea of wearing something that belonged to Sutton. She should refuse because of that reason, honestly.

But…

It wasn’t as though Charlotte had come here with the intention of needing to change her clothing, so she didn’t have anything else to wear. The juice had completely soaked through her pants, so unless she wanted to wear these and look like she’d had herself an accident, then she either had to change into Sutton’s clothing or walk around in her underwear, which was certainly not an option with Lucy here.

So, biting at her lip, she texted Sutton.

Charlotte—7:56 p.m.

Small emergency that includes my pants being covered in juice. Would it be possible to borrow some of yours?

Sutton—7:56 p.m.

Emergency?

Charlotte—7:57 p.m.

By emergency, I mean everything and everyone is fine, by the way.

She watched as Sutton read the message almost immediately… and then waited. Bubbles appeared and then disappeared. And then appeared and disappeared. And again, until finally?—

Sutton—7:59 p.m.

What happened?

She was going to save the whole I gave your daughter a Nintendo Switch, I hope that’s all right conversation until later.

Charlotte—8:00 p.m.

Nothing big. Like I said, just a spill. Sorry, if it’s weird. I just don’t have anything else to wear

Sutton—8:03 p.m.

No. Not weird. At all. It only makes sense!

Of course. Of course you can borrow something, no big deal. Any lounge pants I have are in the dresser in my bedroom, bottom right drawer. Help yourself. Of course

It seemed like a little bit more “of course” than Charlotte was willing to bet was really natural, but she was feeling something similar to what Sutton must be feeling.

Charlotte—8:04 p.m.

Great. Thanks. I’ll see you when you get home

…wearing your clothes.

The shock of it vibrated right through Charlotte’s body. She’d had sex with Sutton weeks ago, and the echoes of that touch still took a concentrated effort to not think about in the name of friendship on a regular basis.

But wearing someone’s clothing was a different kind of intimacy.

In many ways, Charlotte didn’t consider sex to necessarily equal intimacy. She’d had sex with many women, both before and after Sutton, but she’d never shared those levels of intimacy with anyone else.

Taking a deep breath, she moved to the only door that was closed, curiosity, excitement, and, oddly, a bit of nerves coursing through her. Utterly ridiculous, she knew, but…

She opened the door and paused to take it in.

Sutton—fully formed, adult, divorced mother, professor, and author Sutton Spencer—lived here.

The room smelled like her. The faint, sweet scent lingered in the air, likely on her clothes and the bedding that kept it alive even when she’d been gone for hours. It was just as tidy as Charlotte had imagined it would be.

The bed with the warm, cherrywood headboard was made, peach-colored duvet perfectly fitted with a reasonable amount of pillows artfully arranged over it. The doors to what Charlotte assumed were the en suite and the closet were both cracked just a couple of inches. There was a stack of books on the bedside table that Charlotte very much wanted to go look at, but she respectfully refrained, stopping next to a picture of Lucy.

Even if none of those items were there, she knew that was Sutton’s side of the bed. Sutton had always slept on the right side of the bed… even when she usually would end up closer to the middle as a habitual cuddler.

It was so stupid, she thought—not for the first or even the tenth time—that she remembered these things. She could remember exactly how Sutton felt curled against her, all those years ago.

Clearing her throat and pushing back against that though, she turned toward the dresser. An ornate wooden jewelry box was there, with a few assorted perfumes, a pinch pot that Charlotte could only assume Lucy had made, and another collage of photos. An iPad rested on the end, on top of another book, with a pair of glasses resting on top of them both.

She could picture the way Sutton had likely been lounging here before placing everything she’d been using down, including slipping off her glasses, on the way out of her bedroom.

All right. Bottom right drawer.

She opened the drawer to see the neatly folded and stacked lounge pants there. Most of them were a warm, worn cotton; Charlotte was thankful for that—otherwise they likely wouldn’t fit. Charlotte may have kept in shape because the last thing she needed public criticism about was her fucking body, but her hips would never quite be as slim as Sutton’s.

She tugged out a pair of black joggers and paused there, having such a strange flashback to opening her drawer in a condo she hadn’t owned for years and finding a few items Sutton had started keeping at her place at Charlotte’s own request.

The what-ifs and the wondering that she’d managed to block out for years hit in that moment. She’d had these thoughts for a long time after their breakup, but?—

A loud crash shocked her out of her thoughts, her hands tightening on the soft pants in her hand.

A beat of silence went by before she heard, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’ll clean it up!”

Twenty-three minutes later, after discovering that Lucy had accidentally knocked down a little basket that held her toiletries—her toothbrush, kids’ toothpaste, a hairbrush, a fruit-scented lotion, lip balm—and that in the fall, it had knocked down the soap dispenser, which had then spilled on the floor, and after Charlotte had cleaned it while Lucy brushed her teeth, Lucy surprising her by giving her a quick hug around the waist and watching her tuck herself into bed, Charlotte breathed out a deep sigh as she sat on the couch, leaning her head back and closing her eyes.

Fine, yes. She could admit that babysitting was difficult. And that she was much more certain of her ability to spearhead political reform than to entertain a child.

But she’d done all right. Things were okay. Sutton’s daughter was safe and sound, and?—

“Charlotte?”

Her eyes opened quickly, heartbeat stampeding in her chest as she stared at Lucy.

She had gone to bed almost ten minutes ago, looking tired as she’d done so, but she was now staring at Charlotte with big, sad, blue eyes as she rubbed her small hands over her stomach, a stuffed dog held in the crux of her elbow.

“Yes?”

“My tummy really hurts, and I can’t get comfy.” Her bottom lip poked out in an adorable pout, even as she implored Charlotte. “I think I ate some of the sand that landed in my mouth.”

Heaving a breath, Charlotte sat forward. What should she do?

She’d, of course, looked up what happens when a child swallows kinetic sand earlier, when Lucy reported getting it in her mouth. In small amounts, it could cause gastrointestinal distress, but it should be fine. In large amounts, there might need to be medical attention. That thought alarmed her, the fear of it pushing down the dregs of exhaustion that had started to creep in.

She studied Lucy. It couldn’t have been a lot , right? She had only coughed and spluttered a little bit. A small mouthful, at most. Was that all right?

“How much sand went in your mouth?” she asked, instinctively reaching out and putting her hand over Lucy’s on her small stomach, as if she could sense how much sand was in there or something.

Lucy shrugged. “I dunno. Just one or two little swallows.”

She wasn’t taking any chances.

A call to poison control later, she was… somewhat calmed. The operator had informed her it was highly unlikely that Lucy had eaten enough for it to cause any real damage, and they had given her the warning signs to look out for.

Sutton herself didn’t seem overly worried when she’d texted her while on hold to poison control. She’d called and spoken to Lucy, asking her questions that Charlotte couldn’t hear before speaking calmly to Charlotte: “She has a very sensitive stomach, so it doesn’t surprise me that a mouthful of sand is giving her a stomachache. I’ll be leaving very soon.”

Charlotte wanted to assure her that, no, she didn’t have to rush home, that she was still in control of this, but… you know what? She wasn’t going to argue against it.

Especially not as Lucy looked up at her from where she sat on the couch, looking utterly miserable, her fingers toying lightly with her stuffed dog’s ears, as she asked, “When do you think my mama will be home?”

Charlotte sat next to her, placing her phone on the table in front of them as she answered, “Soon.”

Based on Sutton’s location, though, it might still take an hour or so before she arrived.

“Can I lay with you until she’s back?” Wide baby blues dug right into Charlotte’s chest as she froze at the question. “Please? Usually Mama rubs my tummy when it hurts, but you don’t have to. My mama said to remember you aren’t auntie Regan, and I remember, but, um… please?”

Oh, Jesus Christ.

It was there, in this moment, with those heartbreaking eyes coupled with the heartfelt tone and the sheepish, shy look on Lucy’s face that Charlotte just… felt it . This little girl was so much of Sutton; she was precious.

And she couldn’t say no to that, she found.

“Sure. Yes.” She hesitated for a minute, unsure of where to lay on the couch. How did one cuddle with such a small person?

The answer was made for her when Lucy crawled up to her, sliding her legs over Charlotte’s lap and just flopping her body against Charlotte’s. She fell back against the couch with the movement, and Lucy’s head fell against her shoulder.

She snuggled in, feeling like a mini space heater, her soft, wavy, strawberry-blonde hair tickling at Charlotte’s neck.

She wrapped an arm around Lucy’s back automatically before draping the other over her knees. This wasn’t half bad or nearly as uncomfortable as she might have thought. Lucy’s breath puffed against her as she turned her face closer into Charlotte, wiggling to get impossibly closer.

“Will you come back?” Lucy asked, her voice noticeably sleepy. “I had fun tonight.”

Charlotte was surprised to realize how endearing she found it.

Gently, she rubbed her hand over Lucy’s back, feeling her relax minutely against her. The more her little body fell into Charlotte’s, the more relaxed she felt herself melt into the couch.

“I’ll come back,” she murmured, and she meant it.

She knew she would because of Sutton, but the Lucy aspect of Sutton… well, Charlotte hadn’t known exactly what to expect. She knew she wanted Sutton enough that she would figure it out.

But, well, maybe it would be easier than she thought.

Lucy yawned widely before pressing her face against Charlotte, and she looked down at her little face. She could recognize the bits of Sutton there, especially now, while she was so still. The slope of her nose, the shape of her face, her ears, the set and color of her eyes. That thought may have melted her even more.

Yes, it would definitely be easier than she’d originally thought. She closed her eyes and settled back.