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CHAPTER 12
Skylar
“Why can’t I just go to Miss Milly’s?” Luna asked from the backseat as we drove along the coastline into town.
“Because, sweetie pie, Miss Milly still lives in Seattle. Remember?”
My heart ached in my chest. Milly had been Luna’s babysitter since she was a newborn. I’d hit the lottery in the neighbor department when I moved next door to Milly. Her kids were all preteens and teens and she’d just started a small daycare out of her home. Luna loved her. She would even beg to go to her house on the weekends when I wasn’t working.
Two of Luna’s friends at daycare had both started kindergarten this year, but Luna wasn’t old enough yet. The only thing that made up for the injustice was that she got to spend her days with Miss Milly and her newborn baby Tyson, who was six months old now.
Two weeks after she started pre-K her teacher had her tested and she’d said that she could skip kindergarten altogether and be placed in first grade. Not only that, she’d said that Luna was tested for the GATE (gifted and talented education) program and had been accepted. I’d known that Luna was bright since my pediatrician had given me books on raising gifted children, but I’d never thought she’d be in first grade at age four. That was getting into Doogie Howser territory.
I’d talked to Luna about it and asked her what she wanted to do. She’d considered it until she found out that being in first grade was Monday through Friday six hours a day. Once she realized that would mean fewer hours in the day she’d get to be with baby Tyson, her decision was made. She was going to stay in pre-K.
Turning down a chance to skip a grade at school wasn’t the only thing baby Tyson had inspired. The tiny bundle of joy had made Luna’s campaign for me to have a baby go into overdrive. I couldn’t blame her. I’d been the same way with my parents. I’d begged them for a baby sister and I got Ashley. I don’t know what I would do without Ash, and I wanted that same bond for my baby girl.
She even wanted to change her birthday party theme from Trolls to a baby shower. She said it was because she’d had so much fun at Miss Milly’s shower that that was what she wanted for her fifth birthday. But I suspected my genius of a daughter had ulterior motives related to me catching the “baby bug” a term that she’d heard Miss Milly use when she told Luna that she’d been the reason she’d had Tyson after her own kids were in high school. After caring for a newborn, Milly had gotten the “baby bug.”
“Momma, when are we going home?”
When it’s safe.
Which might be never.
“We’re on an adventure, remember?” I tried to keep my tone upbeat.
“Why can’t I just go to work with you?”
“Because, Lu Lu, that’s not allowed.”
“What about Mr. Hank?”
Oh boy. I had a bad feeling that Luna was getting way too attached to our ruggedly handsome, ridiculously sexy neighbor and she wasn’t the only one. Last night, I’d been certain he was going to kiss me and I was going to let it happen. If I was being honest with myself, I was disappointed it hadn’t. My body had been primed and ready. He’d reached up to fix my glasses and when his calloused fingers brushed along my jaw I almost had an orgasm. Which I was telling myself had more to do with my lack of human contact and less to do with the man the fingers belonged to, but even I knew that was B.S.
“Why can’t I stay with Mr. Hank when you’re at work?”
“Because Mr. Hank has to work, too.” And that was a sight that I was sure had inspired many a desperate housewife’s fantasies. Hank owned a construction company. Just thinking about him in a tool belt had me breaking out in a sweat. If there was anything that was hotter than a man in a hoodie, jeans, work boots, and a ball cap, it was adding a tool belt to the ensemble. I did my best to erase those images from my mind because they would lead me right into the gutter. “That’s why we’re going to meet Mrs. Birch. To see if you want to stay with her.”
I had my fingers, toes, and everything else crossed that she would. My first shift was the day after tomorrow and my bank account was still at zero balance. I needed those tips.
“What if I don’t like her, Momma?”
I looked into my rearview and saw Luna’s worried face staring out the window. She had a death grip on Princess Penelope Pineapple, clutching the plush pig close to her body.
Ninety percent of the time my little girl was fearless, but this moment was part of the other ten percent. For no rhyme or reason, Luna would get shy in new situations. I hated to see her so worried. I wished that I could protect her from the world. But since that was impossible, I tried to make the world a little less scary.
“Did you know that Mrs. Birch was Mr. Hank’s babysitter?”
The mention of Mr. Hank lit Luna’s face up and she loosened her grip on Princess Penelope as she sat up a little straighter in her booster seat. “She was?”
“Yep. And he said that she makes the best peanut butter fudge and that she lets special people help her.”
“I want to help her.” Luna’s hand flew up in the air.
“Well, you can ask. Maybe she’ll let you.”
“Okay!” Luna cheered excitedly in her seat.
