My brows lift. “Myphone?”
“Yes.” She nods. “We’re not listening to your music again, and I don’t feel like hooking my phone up to Bluetooth.”
I chuckle, but hand her the phone anyway. “And what’s wrong with my music?”
Charley’s narrow gaze is twinkling with humor as the corner of her mouth twitches. “Graham, we listened to divorced dad rock all day yesterday when you were helping me moveandthis morning on the way to work. No more.”
“Sorry?” I snort. “Divorced dad rock?”
She rolls her eyes as her lips curve into a small smile. “Hinder, Daughtry, Nickelback… Prime divorced dad rock.”
“Oh, so we’re hating on my music now?” I tease. “I’m hurt, Su—Charley. Hurt.”
Thankfully ignoring my near nickname slip-up, Charley laughs as she scrolls through Spotify. “Not hating,” she clarifies. “In fact, I love all that music, but it’s just a bit more angst and grunge than I care for right now.” AsGood as Hellby Lizzo starts playing, she flashes me a smirk before singing along to the song.
I pull out of the parking lot, finding it hard to pay attention to the road, because all I want to do is shamelessly watch Charley. The drive isn’t long by any means, but as I turn onto the gravel road that leads to my house just as another upbeat pop song comes to an end, I wish it was longer. The Charley inside this truck is more carefree and playful than the Charley who moved in to my house yesterday, and I have a feeling that as soon as I park, she’ll revert back to uncharacteristically awkward. When I first offered up my house, she expressed not wanting to be a burden, and I think that’s still heavy on her mind. But hopefully, with time, she’ll get more comfortable around here, because the last thing she is to me is a burden.
Walking through the front door, I kick off my shoes while Charley does the same. The house is quiet, so Ellie Mae and my mom are probably in the backyard. Glancing over my shoulder at Charley, I nod toward that direction of the house. “I’m going outside,” I tell her. “You wanna come?”
She shakes her head and smiles. “Maybe in a bit, but I’m going to change into something less sweat inducing and wash my face. It’s been so dang oily lately.”
“Okay. There should be some washcloths under the sink.”
Breathing out a laugh, Charley says, “Yeah, you mentioned that yesterday when I took a shower.”
“Right.” I nod before we go our separate ways.
Just like I thought, I find my mom sitting on the steps while Ellie Mae’s trying to catch one of the chickens.
“Hey, Mom,” I murmur as I sit down beside her.
“Hi, honey.” She glances over at me. “How was work?”
Shrugging, I say, “It was alright. Nothing special. How was Ellie Mae today?”
“Wonderful, like she is every other day.” Her smile is bright, the love she has for my daughter radiating off her. Ellie Mae is the youngest of five grandchildren, and I couldn’t ask for a better set of grandparents for her. “Where’s Charley?”
“Inside changing,” I say. “She might be out soon, or maybe not.”
“I’m sure it’s just different for her,” my mom offers. “Going from living alone to living with a man and his toddler is probably a lot to take in. She just needs some time.”
I told my mom Charley needed to move in here due to her landlord raising her rent. Not a total lie, but not the whole truth either. Aside from my sisters, we haven’t told anybody that we’re having a baby. I’m sure we will soon, but getting her moved in here and settled was top priority for me, and we haven’t really had time to talk about the pregnancy and our plan yet.
“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right,” I murmur.
My mom stays for another ten minutes or so, and when she leaves, I head inside to make a snack for Ellie Mae. She wanders down the hallway, and I assume she’s going to play with her toys, but when I finish up and go find her, it’s not her bedroom I find her in.
It’s the bathroom, with Charley.
My heart melts as I take them in. No longer in her work uniform, Charley’s wearing a pair of black shorts and a teal ribbed tank top. A pink microfiber-looking headband sits on her head, all the make-up she wore today washed off her face. Ellie Mae has somehow made it onto the counter, and she’s sitting crisscross beside the sink, staring at herself in the mirror as Charley pretends to apply lotion to her face.
“Pretty girls,” I say, shoving my hands in my pockets as I stand in the doorway.
Charley’s gaze meets mine in the reflection, and I don’t miss the way she bites back a smile. “She wanted to wash her face like me,” she explains. “Don’t worry, I didn’t use any real product.”
“Didn’t think you did,” I murmur softly before looking at Ellie Mae. “You all clean now, baby?”
She giggles and nods, rubbing her cheek with her little chubby hand.
