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“Umm…” She squats down as if being more eye level will help, then holds her hand up to the side. “About right here.”
“Okay. It’ll probably still be a few minutes before it’s ready. Why don’t you go grab the swim stuff from inside and make sure your brother isn’t awake yet?” I have a baby monitor on my hip, but it never hurts to have backup. He’s only been down for about an hour, and he averages two these days. “Maybe the pool will be ready by the time you come back out.”
This makes her light up. She tosses a quick “’kay” over her dainty shoulder as she runs barefoot across the backyard and into the house. I’m about to remind her to shut the door when she reappears, flashes me a megawatt smile, and then disappears again, this time after shutting the back door.
Sometimes, in moments like this, I almost feel a little guilty I’m her only biological parent to witness that adorable grin. A small part of me wishes Pete could see it too, not because I want our relationship back, but because Ella and Eli are his children. I haven’t forgotten that. It’s the reason he pays me child support and why I reach out at least three times a year to see if he’d like to see the kids. So far, he’s said no every time I ask, but I think it’s probably because he’s remarried (to a supermodel-like woman far better suited to his snazzy lifestyle who could probably rock any bikini) and he really is just done with the life we had together.
Ella and Eli deserve to have a father-figure in their lives. I know that. I just don’t like the idea of letting someone in if he’s only going to end up leaving us again. Our divorce might’ve been easier than some—Pete didn’t want custody of the children, nor did he want anything from our life here—but I know it’s not what’s supposed to happen in any young child’s life. I’m grateful they have had influences like Jack and Seth and Joanna’s husband, Ben, though. And the Bryants, when we’re around them. It’s better than nothing—
Another text vibrates my phone, and I startle before I realize I never responded to Seth. I cross to the faucet, turn it off, and pull my phone out. There are two texts on the screen, but one of them is just Verizon letting me know about my upcoming bill (as if I don’t already know.)
The one from Seth, however, saysWould you mind if I stop by for a couple minutes? I need to talk to you about something.
Its time stamp says it’s been six minutes since he sent it, so I quickly type outSure. Eli’s down for a nap, but Ella and I are in the backyardjust as Ella comes out the door, four towels piled in her arms and swim bag looped over her shoulder.
“Woah, El.” I set my phone on the patio table and relieve her of the towels. “Planning on the whole neighborhood going swimming or something?”
She giggles, leaning heavily to the left as she walks because the swim bag—which holds pool toys, sunscreen, goggles, hair spray for protection against chlorine, and swim diapers for Eli—probably weighs nearly as much as she does. She grunts when she lets it down to the ground and spins to face me. I take it as my cue to take the towels over and, since I don’t plan on getting in because the water’s frigid and I’m not wearing a swimsuit, I drag a patio table chair with me.
Our backyard isn’t huge, but it’s plush, green, and has an excellent old oak treen in the back left corner that would house a tire swing perfectly. I’ve thought that for a while now but haven’t wanted to ask Seth to build it. Not because he couldn’t—he’s an excellent craftsman—but because that would require me to need (or want) something from him, and I try to keep that at a minimum. Of course, I could ask Jack because he does dabble in woodworking with the tools in his and Alice’s garage, butifI was going to ask someone, it would be Seth. I can’t explain why.
“Office Seth!” Ella’s exclamation makes me turn just in time to see Seth come through the gate of our wooden privacy fence, and I swallow, unintentionally clasping the towels tighter to my chest. He’s not on duty today, if his tan cargo shorts and sky-blue T-shirt that looks softer than a cloud are any indication, and he squats to catch Ella as soon as she reaches him.
“Hey, El. Woah, your mom didn’t tell me you were having a pool party.” He flashes my daughter a smile, then glances up at me. As always, his eyes do a quick assessment of me, and I’m pretty sure I inch the towels up so they cover my chin slightly. It’s just as unexplainable as the tire swing situation. “Hey, Jen.”
There he goes with that nickname again. To be completely transparent, I’ve never really liked it. But somehow, when Seth says it, I like it just a little bittoomuch.
I open my mouth to respond, but the baby monitor on my hip goes off, a staticky Eli cry coming through its speaker.
I really wanted Eli to get his full two-hour nap in, but he decided he doesn’t want to, so here I am, monitoring both of my kids splashing in the kiddie pool while trying to listen to Seth. Well, he hasn’t said much of anything yet, but since he’s been fidgeting with the watch around his wrist for the past five minutes, I’m pretty sure he wants to. Seth is normally a very collected man, so I have to admit that it’s a little endearing to see him hesita—
Wait! No. No, it is not endearing. I don’t find his hesitations endearing or adorable or any other synonyms of the word.
“I’ve been asked by the mayor to renovate a house,” Seth finally says, and the words make me glance up at him. He’s clean-shaven today, so I can see the small scar above his lip as well as that dimple in his cheek when his lips quirk ever so slightly. “He used the excuse that Wynn and Marshall are too busy for another project, but I don’t completely buy it. I think he intentionally asked me.”
I don’t know what to say, so I come back with a joke. “Thinking about hanging up the badge and starting your own HGTV show, huh?”
Seth half scowls, half chuckles. “No, definitely not. I like having projects to do, but I think Wynn and Marshall are better suited to doing it for a living than I would be. My job might be lackluster sometimes, but that’s okay. I didn’t become a cop to be some hero. I did it to help others, even though some of them don’t really like me.”
I’m quiet because I try to picture my ex talking so selflessly about his cushy office job, but I can’t see it. I do know that Seth’s not lying. Before I share this next sentence, I feel like it’s necessary to remind you I amnota creepy stalker person, okay? Good. Now that we’ve got that cleared up, I’ve seen Seth in action when he’s working. Once it was when I was at work and happened to see him pull somebody over across the street. Though I couldn’t hear the exchange, he looked oh-so professional as he stood there in his uniform, his shoulders pulled back, his stance strong and unforgiving. There’s been a few of those instances, either when I’ve been driving by or when I’m at Farm to Table.
But the time that sticks out the most was when there was a drug operation going on in town. (They’re always going on, of course, but this was when the authorities were busting one.) I was at work one day, and they guy who was the head of the operation decided to walk in. To this day I don’t understand why he did so in broad daylight, even if he was wearing a cap pulled low over his eyes, but they say someone in the wrong will eventually mess up one too many times. And considering the guy was hauled off and is still in prison, I’d say that’s true. Anyway, I’m getting away from my point.
Since the guy wasn’t known to be armed (though police did recommend locking houses and vehicles if citizens didn’t already) I didn’t make a show of noticing him. I finished at the table I was waiting on, checked on another, and then took a quick detour to the bathroom on my way to the kitchen. I very rarely use my phone when I’m working because it’s unprofessional, but I whipped that thing out and dialed 9-1-1 faster than my kids tear open presents on Christmas morning. I told the dispatcher what I knew, and I kid you not, it was hardly two minutes after I stepped back into the restaurant that Seth and three other officers showed up. The rest is kind of a blur, but I willneverforget the harsh lines of Seth’s expressions as he handled the guy; the authority in his voice when he spoke.
And then, several hours later after he dealt with the guy, the compassionate way he searched my gaze and the grounding pressure of his hand on my shoulder as he asked how I was doing. One of the other officers had to question me, some of the patrons, staff, and Joanna earlier, but this wasn’t an interrogation. This was later when it was just Seth and I in Jo’s office, and even though I was fine, it was in that moment that I realized Seth was meant for the job he holds. That it was meant for him.
So even if he is totally deserving of hero status, the fact that he remains so legitimately humble honestly just makes him that much more attractive.
But now story time needs to be over, because Seth is starting to talk again. And even though the nameAllenis what I put into my brain cells, I admit it. When Seth opens his mouth, my attention is squarely on him like a kid staring at the big cookie jar that is off limits.
“He suggested I enlist the help of some teens to give them something to do this summer other than underage drink, pull what they see as harmless pranks, and have sex.” The way he grins slightly doesn’t make my stomach roll over. It doesn’t. “I mean, he didn’t word it that way, but I’m not blind to reality. And sadly, for a lot of kids, those are very realistic pastimes when they’re not in school. I wasn’t sold on the idea at first, so I thought about it for twenty-four hours. And just when I was about to call him to say I won’t do it, I got a call from dispatch about a kid—his name is Colin Maks and he just so happens to work at my aunt’s marina—who was caught trying to buy alcohol underage. I don’t know what it was, but somehow I found myself calling Leo and telling him I’d do it after I handled that situation.”
I still have nothing to say (other thanhow is this man so considerate?)so I just keep staring at him.
Seth’s blue eyes hold me captive, and his voice is deliberate as he speaks these next words. “I know this might be a horrible idea, and please tell me if it is, but I think these kids need a respectful female mentor as much as they need a male one. So…will you help us renovate a house?”
Chapter Six
