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“Maybe not,” Annie murmured. “Let me take care of you.”
The next morning at six Annie heard Stevie calling her. “Ugh. It’s too early.”
“What time is it?”
“Too early,” she answered, reaching for her nighty off the floor. “Go back to sleep.”
“I’d better get moving. Are you okay if I leave?”
She looked over at Chris, a hunk lying in her bed, a man on whom she’d just performed acts of love and perversion upon.
“Of course. I’ll drive over after I take him to day care. I need to work on my paper today so I won’t stay. I can come back over tonight with dinner if you’d like that.”
“You don’t need to bring food. I’ll order in.”
She went to get Stevie before he climbed out of his crib while Chris got into the shower. Smiling, Annie felt relieved. It was all good. They were doing one day at a time.
Chapter 8
After Chris left early Wednesday morning, Annie made Stevie breakfast. He requested bacon, frozen waffles, and fruit cocktail from a can—room temperature, not chilled. When he went through the antics of asking for what he wanted with his limited vocabulary, it was all Annie could do not to burst out laughing.
“Dat,” he said, pointing to a can of the fruit.
There was already one open in a Tupperware container, so she got that out and he had a fit.
“No!” He pushed the fridge door closed and went back to the cabinet and pointed, standing on his little toes.
She could see how frustrating it could be for someone with less self-control, like Beverly, to have to deal with such a demanding small human. He was so young, she doubted it was learned behavior. He had that choleric personality that was hot-tempered and irritable. But the plus side, she could already see that Stevie was going to be a leader. He was motivated and decisive.
“You’re such a smart little boy,” she said, looking down at him. “How’d I get so lucky?”
“Momma school!” He pointed to the kitchen table with her books piled high.
“Yep, that’s for sure. I guess it’s making an impression on you, hey?”
“Impression.”
They were having the discussion when a tap on the door interrupted.
“Who’d come here at eight in the morning?”
Peeking through the curtain, she saw a tall, lanky, middle-aged guy with salt-and-pepper hair, dressed too fancy for Cypress Cove, looking down at his phone. With the chain in place, she cracked the door.
“Can I help you?”
“I’m so sorry to be at your door this early. I’ve tried calling my sons and there’s no answer. I’m Cindy Johnson’s husband, Kirk. I wanted to surprise the boys with breakfast but the only address I could find in Cindy’s papers was yours.”
“If you don’t mind, I’m going to send a text to Chris telling him that you’re here.”
“No, I understand. That’s fine. I don’t have his number or I would have called him, too.”
She quickly sent Chris a text that Kirk was there looking for the boys and she was letting him in.
She removed the chain and pushed the door open. “Kirk, come in. I’m Annie, as you must know since you’re here. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you. Again, I’m sorry for showing up so early. If you could just give me Chris’s new house address, I’ll be on my way.”
Her phone beeped.Sorry! Can you give him my address?
