“Welcome to this millennium, kid. We’re on the single-parent treadmill together.”
By six-thirty, Atlas had finally surrendered to sleep in the crib he’d recently been moved to in his very own room across the hall. Jonah had even held a tiny “graduation” ceremony for him, but the humor had been lost on an infant.
Right now, Jonah had exactly ninety minutes to shower, eat something, review his notes for Broussard’s lecture, and get to Northwest Florida State College in Niceville before the most exacting chef-instructor decided to make an example of whoever walked in late.
He showered in four minutes, pulled on jeans and a pullover that passed the smell test, and checked on Atlas, who was sleeping with his arms flung wide and his mouth open like a chunky starfish. Jonah stood there for five seconds longer than he should have, watching his son’s chest rise and fall, feeling the thing he always felt—that swelling, stupefying love that sat right next to the fear that he was going to screw this up.
He stepped away, checking his watch to confirm he had time to eat and do a hand-off to…
He murmured a curse. Towho?
Upstairs, the main floor was quiet. Too quiet. The kitchen, which on any given morning was a revolving door of family members making coffee and arguing about whose turn it was to unload the dishwasher, was empty. The coffee maker was on, the pot nearly gone, but no one was sitting at the island, no one was out on the deck, no one was anywhere.
Jonah poured the dregs into a travel mug and pulled out his phone, scrolling back to last night’s texts.
Right. There it was. Meredith, ten-forty-seven p.m.
Meredith:Leaving early for Lakeside. Like, crack of dawn early. You’ll need to find someone for Atlas. Sorry. You’ve got this!!!
Three exclamation points. His sister’s enthusiasm for a spreadsheet was one thing, but using unnecessary punctuation to soften the news that she was abandoning him was a bold move for Miss Perfect.
He took a sip of coffee and ran through the mental roster.
Dad would be at Lakeside, too. It was the first day of the big project for Pippin…whatever they did.
Aunt Vivien. He vaguely recalled her mentioning something about a meeting with a new client to stage an “upscale waterfront rental.” Okay. Rich people’s condos waited for no soon-to-be chef.
“All right, all right.” He breathed the words.
Aunt Crista? He took a few steps through the house to the back hallway toward a shared home office that was nearly always in use. Today, it was quiet. In the guest suite across the hall where Crista was staying with little Nolie, he saw a bed neatly made with military precision. Oh, yes. She mentioned going to the bungalow to…do something with…something.
Dang. Atlas had been crying and Jonah hadn’t paid attention, but he should have. His options were way too thin. That left?—
“Good morning!” Kate Wylie came down the stairs in a light blue top and white linen pants, her dark auburn hair pulled back to show off a bright red pair of glasses.
Behind her, Emma descended in that careful, contained way she’d been moving since she arrived. She wore AirPods, with her gaze down. He didn’t know her deal, but he recognized teenage armor. He’d worn it for years after his mother died.
“Hey, Kate.” Jonah summoned his most charming, most desperate smile.
“You okay?” she asked.
It must have been more desperate than charming. “Yeah, so, funny thing. I have class in about an hour and I seem to have misplaced my entire support system.”
Kate’s brown eyes softened with understanding. “Of course, Meredith’s gone to Lakeside with Eli.”
“No sign of Vivien or Crista, either.” He made a face. “That leaves…”
Coming to the bottom of the steps, she glanced at Emma.
“We’re doing a girls’ day,” Kate said. “Shopping, sightseeing, taking in this mythical 30A place. Meredith left her car for us and drove to Lakeside with Eli, but I guess we could…take him?”
Emma said nothing, but Jonah read her body language and total lack of enthusiasm for an additional passenger on their outing.
“No, no,” he said quickly. “I’ll figure something out. I should have last night, actually.”
Kate set her bag on the counter and looked at him with the practical gaze of a woman who solved problems for a living. “Honestly, we could stay home with him.”
He shook his head. “Oh, no. Anyway, he was up half the night, all fussy and clingy. I’m not going to strap you guys with that.”
