“Ah…there are crayons under the sink. They’re made of soap, I think.” Colton’s on the threshold of the bathroom, the tip of his boots still on the hardwood of the hallway. He rubs his beard, eyeing me. “She can draw on the walls, maybe.”
This man is too much. Turning, I open the cupboard and pull out the soap crayons. Sliding one out of the pack, I hand it to Mia, showing her how it draws. She oos and takes it from my hand, ready to create a masterpiece.
I approach Colton, putting a hand on the solid mass of his chest when he doesn’t move, so I can push him back into the hall. Moving a couple of feet away, I turn and slide down the wall, stretching my legs out. Turning my head slightly, I have a perfect view of Mia in the tub. She sees me and smiles, waving. I smile and wave back, then rest my head back, letting my mind drift while I watch her.
Colton slides down beside me, stretching his legs out alongside mine.
“You’d never know something scary happened to her last night,” Colt murmurs, watching Mia playing happily in her bath.
“She’s amazingly resilient. Most kids are.”
He scowls. “I hate that word. Resilient. Whenever I hear it applied to kids, it just means that they’ve been through some serious shit, and somehow didn’t end up traumatized for life.”
“You sound like you’re speaking from personal experience.”
Laying his head back, he nods. “I guess so. My mom died when I was a kid. We ended up in care. The workers always described me as resilient, but it’s total bullshit. I wasn’t resilient. I was hiding how I was feeling, coping. That’s not something I’d wish on any kid.”
“No,” I murmur, “I guess it isn’t.”
We’re silent, both lost in our thoughts until he bumps his shoulder into mine. “How are you holding up with all of this?”
“Fine,” I lie.
“Evie, seriously, how are you doing?”
“You really want to go there?”
“Lay it on me.”
My lips press together to stop the spew of words. I take a minute to settle, then do exactly what he asked: lay it on him.
“I’m pissed. At you for building this dream bedroom. It’s just made it that much harder for me to make a smart decision. If I pull her away from this now, she’s going to be crushed. And I can’t afford this place, even if I got a great nursing job. This is still a million-dollar apartment.”
“I told you the money doesn’t matter to any of us! Why can’t you just accept that?” he whispers hoarsely, conscious of Mia nearby.
“Because it’s bullshit. Money always matters, Colt. And you just want me to, what? Stay indebted to you?”
“Hold on, I never said there was any obligation here. I want to help. When you’re able to get your own place, then great. In the meantime, there is no ticking clock on this arrangement.”
“And you don’t expect anything from me? Seriously?”
“I don’t really know where all this is coming from. Care to enlighten me? From where I’m standing, this is a really simple concept. You need a safe place to stay and a support system. We have a place for you to stay, and a huge family that wants to be yours.”
“You really don’t get it, do you?”
He shakes his head, his eyes hard. “I really don’t.”
Exhaling heavily, I walk him through it. “Yesterday, I had a life that completely depended on me. I was working at a job I found. I was taking care of my daughter on my own. I was handling my bills on my own. Yes, it was a way shittier situation than we used to be in before Brent fucked up my life. But the day I turned eighteen, I took control of my life and never looked back. I make my own decisions, despite what everyone else wants me to do. And now, suddenly, I’m in an apartment I have no legal right to, going to interview for a job you’ve lined up for me.”
“I’m still not seeing the problem here, Evie.”
“No, you wouldn’t, would you?” I lean my head back on the wall. “What happens when you decide you need this place back, or I’ve outstayed my welcome? Or you call up your connection at my new workplace and I end up out of a job?”
He chokes. “Jesus fuck Evie. That would never happen. Why would we go to all this trouble to get you set up and then take it all away?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Getting fired for stealing meds and losing my daughter would have been a completely preposterous thought a few years ago. But it happened, didn’t it?”
His face isn’t lit up anymore. I think I crushed him a little bit. But he wanted the truth, and he got it. He sits up suddenly, pulling out his phone.
