Diane Chamberlain - The Good Father

“I know what moving day’s like,” she said. She reached into the fridge, pulled out a beer, uncapped it and handed it to me. “What about for Bella?” she asked. “Juice? Milk?”

“Juice,” Bella said. Usually I’d give her the milk, but tonight was a special occasion.

“Please,” I reminded Bella.

“Please,” she said.

Savannah poured some orange juice into a tall plastic cup with a cap and a straw. Perfect.

“You act like you understand kids,” I said as I settled Bella at the table with a puzzle I’d brought with me so she wouldn’t get bored. She loved puzzles and this one had Cinderella on it. She loved her princesses.

“Oh, I’ve got a slew of nieces and I volunteered in a day care for a year or so. This age—” she motioned toward Bella “—so adorable. The best. Still innocent, you know?”

I nodded, but I was thinking about what she said. She’d worked in a day care? Was there a chance I’d stumbled across not only the hottest neighbor a man could hope for but child care, as well?

Savannah pulled a bunch of salad stuff out of the refrigerator and set it on the counter, then seemed to notice the bong and quietly moved it inside one of the lower cabinets. I didn’t say a thing except, “Can I help?”

We worked together in the kitchen, talking about where we were from—me, from right there in Carolina Beach; her, from Kinston—and did a little “Do you know so and so?” but we definitely moved in different circles. I told her about the fire and she stopped chopping celery to look at me. She rested her hand on my shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Travis,” she said. She glanced at Bella, who was quietly working on her puzzle. “This must completely suck for both of you.”

I nodded. “Yeah, it does.”

She still had her hand on my shoulder and she lowered it, running it down the length of my arm, slipping her fingers into my palm. She was coming on to me. I hadn’t had any kind of long-term relationship since Bella came into my life. I didn’t want one now, either. It would just confuse things. But I could use someone to sleep with. That I couldn’t deny, and the way she’d touched me let me know she knew what she was doing. She would be as good in bed as she looked.

I focused on the lettuce to keep my wits about me. “The thing is,” I said, “I really need to get work. My final paycheck literally went up in smoke with the house. And if I find work, I need somebody to watch Bella for me. Do you know anyone who does child care?”

She shrugged with a smile. “I know me ,” she said. “I’ve had experience. I told you I worked in a day care. My classes are at night and all I do all day right now is hang out. I’d love to watch her.”

“I’d pay you, of course. I mean, as soon as I get work.”

She nodded. “Not easy to find right now, huh?”

I shook my head. “Twenty guys for every job, at least,” I said.

“Well, if you find a job, you’ve got a sitter. Except …” She hesitated, taking a few more chops at the celery. “I have to go out of town sometimes. I have friends I visit in Raleigh when I don’t have class. But I could probably find someone to cover for me then.”

“Okay,” I said, thinking that I wouldn’t want to leave Bella with someone I didn’t know. But then, what did I know about Savannah herself? I should probably ask to speak to the day care where she’d worked, but I was afraid that would sound like an insult. What I knew about Savannah was that she grew up in Kinston and was taking night classes to learn how to do hair or nails or whatever and that she drank beer and smoked enough weed to have a bong on her kitchen counter. I wondered if she did anything heavier than marijuana. I’d keep an eye on how much she drank tonight. What if she had friends who hung out with her at the trailer? I didn’t want a bunch of losers hanging around Bella. I wondered if I was one of the losers now. Maybe that’s what Savannah was thinking.

“Where’s Bella’s mom?” she asked quietly as she dropped the celery into the salad bowl.

“Beaufort,” I said.

“Is she … What’s her name?”

“Robin.”

“Was she unfit or what? How come Bella’s with you?”

“It’s a long story,” I said. Robin wasn’t my favorite topic, especially not with someone I didn’t know well.

“Does Bella ever see her?”

“Sure,” I lied. It was none of her business, and the lie seemed the easiest way out of the conversation. “Want me to shred some carrots for the salad?”

“Sure.” Savannah smiled. Touched my arm. “I think Bella’s a lucky little girl to end up with you,” she said.

Over dinner, we did most of our talking to and through Bella, but beneath the table Savannah ran her bare foot up my leg. The first time, she looked at me with a question in her eyes, like “Is this okay? Are we on the same page?” and I gave her a little smile back to let her know it was as okay as it could be, even though I knew hooking up with her might be really stupid. I needed her to take care of Bella more than I needed a lover. But right then, with her foot inching closer to the inside of my thigh, I wasn’t thinking all that much about child care.

We watched a little TV with Bella after dinner, then I settled her down on Savannah’s couch. I didn’t think she’d go right to sleep. It usually took her a while, especially in a strange place, and she was used to me reading to her in bed before lights out. She’d had a ton of books that burned in the fire, but Franny’d given us The Cat in the Hat when we first moved in with her, and Bella didn’t seem to mind hearing it over and over again. Even when we were finished reading, she’d rarely just drift off. She’d ask for water or get up to tell me or my mom something that couldn’t possibly wait until morning and generally wear herself out. But the lack of a nap was working to her advantage tonight. My advantage. I covered her over and watched while she sank into a deep sleep, and as I tucked the light blanket tighter over her shoulders, Savannah leaned over and nuzzled my neck.

I stood up and put my arms around her. “Listen,” I said. “I’m not ready for anything ser—”

“Shh.” She kissed me. “I don’t care about serious,” she said. “I’m all about living in the present moment.” She took my hand and we walked into her bedroom and, for a couple of hours, I forgot about the fire and my lack of a job and just about everything except my body and hers.

ONCE MY BED-AND-BREAKFAST GUESTS WERE well fed and ready to explore Beaufort for the day, I left my assistant, Bridget, to clean up and headed next door to Hendricks House. The fact that, at thirty-three, Dale still lived with his parents had seemed weird to me until I saw his apartment. He had the entire second story to himself with a separate entrance. Once we were married, we’d have a place of our own, of course. Just two weeks ago, a few days before Hannah was born, we’d signed a contract on a small house a block from the water. Or at least Dale had signed the contract. The Beaufort-style bungalow would be in his name until we were married. We’d close in a month and I couldn’t wait to fix it up. I’d still manage the B and B, although Bridget would take over my roomy first-floor apartment and I’d do less of the day-to-day grunt work. If Dale had his way, I wouldn’t be doing any of it. I could be a lady of leisure, he said, just doing volunteer work like his mother. He didn’t like it when I talked about going to school. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be a nurse or some kind of medical technician, but I was absolutely certain I’d need more in my life than the garden club and playing golf and tennis, two games I hated to begin with. Dale thought I should just take it easy. He was always worrying about my health. I took a couple of handfuls of pills a day and had to be careful around germs, but I refused to live my life in a bubble the way he wanted me to.