I saw Tyler a lot for the next month but avoided talking to him. Every time I visited Clem and Lucas at their home, which was pretty much every day, I expected to find out he left.
That never happened.
He was always there. I could barely hold my questions in.
Why did he stay for so long?
When was he going back to Boston?
What did he even do there, if he could just leave for months?
I was a ball of nerves and curiosity, while Tyler didn’t look troubled at all. He occupied Clem’s guest room and apparently helped with the baby. Particularly at night. It turned out she had the same sleeping schedule her uncle had.
“Daphne Duck, say hi to our beautiful guest,” he said when he opened the front door for me, while holding little Daff in his arms. His t-shirt had vomit stains in several places.
“Stop calling her that.” I ignored his compliment and walked inside.
“Would you prefer I called her ugly duckling?” Tyler followed me to the living room. “Because that would suit her too.”
“I don’t know how Lucas stands you,” I extended my hands waiting for him to give me the baby. He shook his head. “I want to hold her,” I whined. “You’re here all the time.”
“Exactly. She knows me. She trusts me. You are just the hot chick that comes by every now and again.”
He commented on my looks again. I ignored his compliment again.
“No one trusts you, Hartley. I am sure Daff is already smart enough to smell your bullshit.”
“Language!” Lucas shouted from the kitchen, and I rolled my eyes. Tyler grinned from ear to ear, happy that I was in trouble. Daphne chose that moment to produce a loud and smelly poop. I scrunched my nose.
“She needs a diaper change.” I extended my hands again, hoping he would at least give me that little task. She was pooping eight times a day, after all. There was enough poop for the both of us.
He twisted to the side, showing me I wasn’t getting my hands on her and took her upstairs.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I asked outraged.
“Language!” Lucas shouted again from the kitchen.
“Oh, fuck off, Cole! She’s not even in the room.”
I waited in the living room for Tyler to come down again. Daphne was lying safely in his arms. I could swear that him rocking her was the prettiest picture I had ever seen.
We joined Clem and Lucas, who were sitting at their kitchen counter almost passed out from exhaustion.
“What is happening here?” I asked.
“Daphne cried all night,” Clem yawned. “Again. We didn’t sleep at all.”
“You could have helped them,” I said to Tyler, who looked fresh as a daisy.
“I helped,” he looked at me offended. “I haven’t slept either.”
“You don’t look like you haven’t slept.”
“I guess there are some perks in partying all night, little Spencer. I’m used to not getting much sleep and I still look handsome. Look at these two. Would you tell they are younger than me?”
“Give her to me, Hartley,” I said, extending my arms again. “You should go get some sleep.”
He narrowed his eyes at me for a few seconds, then walked away with Daphne. I cocked my head sideways, listening to the sounds coming out of his mouth.
“Is he singing?” No one answered, so I asked the more important question. “When is he leaving? I can’t stand him anymore.”
Lucas and Clem shared a look.
“What? Spill it.”
“He’s not leaving,” Clem said.
“I hope he will at least leave this house at some point,” Lucas murmured.
“In case you haven’t noticed he is taking care of our daughter while you and I talk to someone that doesn’t smell like poop.”
“That’s the only reason he’s still here,” Lucas said, but then corrected himself. “When Daff starts to sleep through the night, he has to leave the house.”
“Excuse me?” I cut them off. “You can argue about that later. What do you mean he’s not leaving? He lives in Boston.”
“He moved back to California,” Lucas answered while I stared at Clem’s guilty expression. “He’s been living in our house since the baby shower.”
“And he’s just stayed in your house for months doing nothing?”
“No,” Clem defended him. “He…has a project.”
“A project?”
They both nodded.
“You should ask him about it,” Clem suggested. “He would love to tell you.”
“I don’t care about his stupid project.”
I waltzed over to Tyler and Daphne, kissed her little bald head, and bolted towards the front door. I heard him laughing behind my back.
“Stop by any time, little Spencer.”
I slammed the door shut with all the force I could muster.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Tyler
Ever since Clem told me she spilled the beans about my secret project, I couldn’t stop thinking about revealing it to Hannah. I managed to control myself for about a month. Partly because I wanted to see if she would ask me about it. She didn’t. But also because I wasn’t ready for a rejection. Not that I would give her up anyways, but I still wasn’t up for the possibility of a negative reaction.
So about two months after Daphne was born, I sent Hannah an address and asked her to come meet me there. I knew it was eating her alive not knowing what was going on, and I admired her resolve to appear disinterested.
I waited for her for over an hour. She wasn’t late, but I was nervous and arrived way too early. The place still smelled like paint and wood varnish. There was no furniture yet. At that point it was just a huge empty room with freshly painted walls and dirty windows.
I spotted Hannah through one of those dirty windows. I couldn’t see her clearly because of the dust covering the glass, but I would recognize her silhouette anywhere. The way her body moved. The way she dipped her head down when she walked. I bet she didn’t know I noticed all these things about her.
She stopped in front of the door for a moment. Probably looking around to find out what that place was. It was pretty obvious to me, and I knew it would be pretty obvious to her. So I waited to see if she would play along and pretend she had no idea what this was, or she would come in kicking and screaming.
The door opened and Hannah slowly peeked in.
“Oh, so, this the right place.”
Playing along it is.
I couldn’t help but smile. “Do I hear disappointment in your voice?”
She walked in not bothering to answer. She coughed a little and covered her mouth and nose for a moment.
“It’s hard to breathe in here,” she murmured under her breath, then cleared her throat and continued with a deliberately cold tone. “So? What did you want to talk to me about?”
“About me moving back here.”
“What about it?”
She tried to sound disinterested and calm, but she shifted from foot to foot and looked everywhere but at me. I didn’t like seeing her so warry and jumpy around me. It wasn’t what we usually had going on between us.