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“Lana, no,” he said, shaking his head. “Shit,” he said, wincing, making me realize the sting in my eyes was tears as one spilled out and slid down my cheek.
“Crap. Great,” I said, reaching up to wipe at both my cheeks as I tried to blink them away. “Sorry. It’s just the first thing that’s gone right in a long time,” I admitted.
“Seems like you need that coffee now, huh?” he asked, completely unbothered by the tears as I kept trying to wipe them away.
“Out of curiosity,” I said as I walked beside him back toward the house while Rodney parked his wide ass in the grass and looked at me with a I’m not going anywhere face, “do you have… sisters?”
“One sister. But a fuckton of female cousins and aunts,” he told me, holding the door open for me to move inside. “I can tell when they’re happy tears,” he added as I walked back into his kitchen, going right to the cupboard to pull down two mugs. “Do you have any family?”
“None,” I admitted, watching as he glanced over. “I grew up in foster care. I had no biological family left after my mother overdosed,” I admitted. There was no reason to feel weird or sad about that for me. I didn’t even remember her. And I’d been one of the lucky ones. My foster experience hadn’t been awful. Sure, there was a lot of moving around, but I hadn’t been abused in any way.
He nodded at that as he went to the fridge to get the creamer.
“You can tell me to fuck off if this is too personal,” he started as he started to fix our coffees, and I watched on in both shock and confusion as he made mine almost exactly how I took it.
“Okay…” I said, tensing a bit.
“The kids’ father…”
“Is not in the picture,” I cut him off, adding a little nod for emphasis.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Don’t be,” I told him, shaking my head. “I don’t mind you asking. I think anyone would be curious if they were renting their guest house out to someone.”
“I meant I was sorry about the situation,” he said, handing me my coffee.
“Well… don’t be sorry about that either,” I said, voice a little lower, and he seemed to pick up on something in it, judging by the nod he gave me.
“Can I ask how old your kids are?” he asked as we each leaned back, him against the counter, me the island, and sipped our coffee.
“Isaac is seven. Hazel is four-and-a-half. And she is very sensitive about that half,” I clarified, watching his eyes warm as he smiled a bit. “And then Clara is five months.”
“Five months,” he said, brows shooting up, and his gaze moved over me before he caught himself and forced it to stay on my face.
I had gotten back into my pre-baby weight somewhat quickly after Clara. You know, because of the whole not being able to feed myself when I was trying to feed my kids thing. Not the best diet in the world, if you ask me.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said, smiling into my coffee cup.
“You want to go catch a nap on the couch?” he asked, waving toward the living room. “Sounds like you could use one.”
I could, actually.
But I had a feeling I’d be sleeping a lot more soundly once the kids and I were in a more permanent, less noisy, less scary place. One that would also miraculously be less expensive, and allow me to worry a little less.
“This coffee is doing the trick,” I told him, toasting him with it. “So, when is the place available to move in?” I asked.
“Whenever you guys are,” he said.
“So, like, two hours from now?” I asked, only mostly joking.
“Sure, if that’s when you guys want to move in.”
“You’re serious?”
“Yeah. Why not? Actually, here, this is yours now,” he said, pulling the key out of his pocket. “I don’t have a copy yet,” he added.
Somehow, I would even feel safer if he did.
“Thank you,” I said, making a mental note to stop and buy, like ingredients for cookies or brownies or something to give him as a thank you.
“No problem. I’ll be happy to see someone using the house. And the yard,” he added.
“How about I mow the yard,” I suggested. “As part of the deal.”
“Absolutely fucking not,” he said, surprising a laugh out of me.
“Why not?”
“First, because my old man would kick my ass if he knew I was letting a single mother mow my lawn for me. Second, well, just no,” he said, shaking his head like it was the most ridiculous suggestion he’d ever heard.
“What about, I don’t know, some light housework around here?” I offered.
“Baby, what part of renting the house from me for a set price is so hard to understand?”
