When she finished, he wiped a hand down his face. “I was venting to a friend. I had no idea she’d heard any of that.”
“Kids have incredible audio powers.”
“I’ve learned that in the past four months. The incident she talked about happened during the first two weeks she was with me. Months ago. I don’t know what else I can do to convince her I love her and want her beyond what I’m already doing.”
“May I offer a suggestion?”
“Please.”
“Tell her how you feel about the loss of your mom and brother. She said you never talk about them, so she may be reluctant to bring up her own grief. If she knows you have sorrow in common, she may open up about that—and other subjects. Shared experiences can create strong bonds.”
“That makes sense.” He leaned back and crossed an ankle over a knee. “I thought Molly and I should establish a comfort level before we got into heavier issues, but maybe talking about those would help build that comfort level.”
“It might.”
“Any other insights or tips you can share?”
“No.” She checked her watch. “And it’s getting late. I better take the kitty home and get set up for some midnight feedings.” She stood.
He rose more slowly, trying to come up with a logical reason to delay her.
Unfortunately, nothing convincing came to mind.
“I’ll help you gather up the supplies.” He opened the door and followed her to the kitchen.
She stopped in the center of the room, eyeing the counter and the kitten. “This will require two trips.”
“I’d offer to help, but I don’t want to leave Molly alone.”
“No worries. It’s not a long walk.” She flashed him a smile as she picked up the box with the sleeping kitty. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“I’ll put all the supplies in a bag for you while you’re gone.”
He held the door for her as she left, gathered up the formula, extra bottle, nipples, and the care instructions he’d printed off the net, and was waiting on the porch when she returned.
She took the bag he handed her. “Thanks for all you did tonight. I’m sure the care and feeding of an abandoned kitten wasn’t on your evening agenda.”
“Watching Molly wasn’t on yours for today either.”
“I enjoyed having her.” She descended the steps, angling back at the bottom to look up at him. “I’ll text you with updates on how he’s doing.”
In other words, she didn’t want them to come over to her place.
Didn’t mean he couldn’t try to push for an invite, though.
“Thanks—but I don’t know if that will satisfy Molly.”
She edged farther away, into the shadows beyond the pool of light from the porch. “I can bring him back for a visit in a week or two.”
“Or we could walk over. I’d call first, to see if it was convenient.”
“That would work.”
Not if she didn’t answer the phone—and he had a sneaking suspicion she’d let any calls from him roll to voicemail.
But pushing harder could backfire.
“Let me know if you need any help.”
“I will. Thanks again.” With that, she turned away and disappeared down the dark drive.
Logan pushed through the door, locked it, and shoved his hands in his pockets as he wandered down the hall to see if Molly had fallen asleep.
At the door to her room, he paused. Toby lifted his head from his prone position beside her bed but stayed where he was. Molly’s eyes were closed, her breathing even, and the slight snuffling sound suggested she was in a deep sleep.
Maybe she’d stay that way through the night.
He returned to the kitchen and straightened up the counter and table, weighing Jeannette’s advice about broaching the subject of loss and grief with Molly. His neighbor struck him as a sharp, insightful, intuitive, and caring woman who probably had keen insights about kids, based on her teaching experience.
Why not try her suggestion? It wasn’t as if he had anything to lose, given the poor results with his current approach.
He nuked the cup of coffee that had cooled during Jeannette’s visit and strolled out to the back porch. Propping a shoulder against the post, he sipped the java and scanned the vast, star-bedecked heavens. It was the same view he used to enjoy with his mom and brother and dad as they tried to spot the constellations in their backyard on a summer night while fireflies flitted around them.
The sky hadn’t changed—but everything else had.
And all at once, a soul-deep wave of loneliness crashed over him.
Those had been good days.
Happy days.
But now they were only a memory.
His mom was gone.
His brother was gone.
His father had died long ago.
All he had was a little girl who didn’t particularly like him and a dog he wasn’t that fond of—although the beagle was growing on him.
Swallowing past the tightness in his throat, he perused the tall hedge on the left of his property.
His nuclear family might be gone, but as far as he could tell, he had more companionship in his life than the woman next door. Jeannette appeared to be totally alone.
The question was why.
He took a speculative sip of coffee, squinting at the faint glow of light visible above the hedge where her house stood.
If Molly had opened up to his neighbor today, could Jeannette have told his niece a few bits and pieces about her background too? More than had been in the Hope Harbor Herald article she’d mentioned, which he’d accessed in the paper’s online archives?
Unfortunately, her interview with the local paper hadn’t offered much new information. All Marci Weber had been able to wheedle out of Jeannette was her hometown and college. The lavender lady must have managed to keep their conversation centered on her new life and business here in Hope Harbor.
It couldn’t hurt to put out a few feelers with Molly tomorrow in case his niece had learned anything of interest.
Because unless Jeannette had a change of heart about offering him a peek into her past, that could be his best chance of unearthing a few clues about what made his appealing neighbor tick.
18
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
As the piercing alarm jolted Mariam awake, she bolted upright in bed, trying to clear her sleep-fogged brain.
What in heaven’s name was making that sound?
Elisa shrieked, threw off the covers, scurried across the room, and burrowed in beside her with a whimper.
Seconds later, the door to their room flew open and Thomma flipped on the light, hair disheveled, face white. “Are you both all right?”
“Yes.” Mariam swung her legs to the floor and grabbed her robe from the foot of the bed, pulse racing. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. But be prepared to leave fast. I’ll check the hall.”
He disappeared again, and Mariam stood, balancing herself for a moment on the headboard. After five days, her ankle was feeling better, but it was still tender and she didn’t yet trust it to support her.
“Put on your shoes, Elisa.” She did the same as she spoke.
Moving on autopilot, she pulled a suitcase out of their closet and threw some clothes into it.