“What’s your name?” I asked.
She snorted. “That’s the best you got? Look, I’ve had a long night here, and I’ve got a long morning ahead of me. I honestly don’t have time for your bullshit. So, if you don’t mind, I’m going home. If you aren’t a creep, you won’t follow me. Got it?”
Red locked the second kid into the stroller and strode off with a toss of her hair. It must have been the hair that drew my dumb ass after her. I followed it through the parking garage entrance and down the hall to the elevator. When we arrived, she scowled at me.
“I’m not following you. I live here, too. Third floor.”
“No, you don’t.”
I smiled. “Yeah, I do. You just move in? I haven’t seen you around here before.”
The elevator opened, and she pushed the stroller inside, heaving with the effort from the heavy contraption. Red-faced and with a lung capacity to rival my team’s best sprinters, the kids hadn’t stopped screaming since they’d woken in the car. I winced a little, but even that didn’t dull my curiosity.
I was a goner.
“Are you for real?” she asked. Being so close to her, I could see her eyes were dark, mossy green—the color of leaves deep in the forest where sunlight struggled to reach.
“I seem to be,” I answered when I remembered her question.
“I don’t really have time right now to entertain whatever delusions are cropping up inside that head of yours.”
The elevator dinged, and the sound of the discontented children echoed off the walls in the hall. I hurried after her. When I caught up, she caught sight of me and growled under her breath, causing the twins to jerk in surprise and cut off mid-scream.
“Didn’t I tell you not to follow me? I don’t have time for this right now. Stop following me!”
At her shout, the twins began screeching again, and I winced.
I pointed to my apartment. “I’m not following you.” Well, not really. “That’s my place right there.” I held out the key and shook it. “I’ve even got the key if you don’t believe me.”
Red glanced from me to the door and then back again. Her face crumpled, and she rested her back against the door, crumpling into a heap. I peered around the stroller and found Red’s face buried into her knees, her shoulders shaking.
Two kids, I could deal with. After all, kids cry…I wasn’t sure much, but I was pretty positive it was often. Not much I could do about that, but a grown woman in a crying fit? Left me feeling like I had two left feet.
I crouched in front of her and placed a hand on her knee. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Please don’t cry.”
Patting her back like I would a puppy was about the extent of my soothing abilities. After a second, she blew out a hot breath and looked up at me with bloodshot eyes, her nose running.
She was beautiful.
“You alright?” I asked with half a laugh. Clearly, she wasn’t alright, but I was at a loss for words.
Red rolled her eyes. “I’m fine. I was just…overwhelmed for a second.”
She accepted my hand to help her back to her feet. The ringing in my ears had me glancing back at the toddlers, who’d cried themselves to sleep. Studying them warily, I asked, “Are they okay?”
“They’re just overstimulated. They hate riding in the car seats. Not that I blame them.” She placed a hand on each of their chests and gazed at their slumbering faces.
“How old are they?” I asked to fill the silence.
Glancing up at me, she said, “Two years.”
“I don’t mean this the way it sounds, but you look amazing for having two-year-old twins.”
“Am I supposed to take that any other way than how it sounds?”
Thank God she was smiling.
I sputtered to defend myself, but she laughed. “Don’t sweat it. I’m not their mom. They’re my baby sisters.”
“Ah, right. Sorry again.”
“Since you’re here, you can bring them in for me while I get their snack ready.” When I did nothing but stare, she waved me inside. “Come on. They aren’t going to bite. If we’re going to be neighbors, we might as well get to know each other. Besides, I feel shitty for yelling at you. I’ll get you a soda as a friendly gesture.”
With exaggerated care, I wheeled the stroller into the apartment as Red bustled around the kitchen, opening cabinets and cutting up bite sized pieces of fruits and veggies, ‘cause I had no clue. The toddlers slept in their car seats, but I didn’t trust them not to wake up and turn into air raid sirens again, so I didn’t make a sound as I waited.
She looked up, and her eyes danced with laughter. “You look like you’re going to set off a bomb or something. They aren’t going to bite you.”
“They might start screaming again,” I whispered.
“What’s your name?” she asked after shaking her head. “I guess I’d better know it if we’re going to be neighbors. This probably won’t be the first time you hear them screaming at all hours of the night.”
“Tripp. Tripp Wilder.”
She paused mixing the bottles. “That can’t really be your name.”
“It really is.”
“Is that short for something?” she asked.
“John Thomas III,” I answered. “Tripp, as in triple or the third.”
“That makes more sense.” She capped the bottles, tucked them under her free arm, and then opened the fridge and got a soda, which she handed to me. “Tripp suits you better than John, that’s for sure.”
“I get that a lot.” It was part of the problem.
“I’m Ember. These little boogers are Matilda, Tillie for short, and Molly.”
Ember.
God, her name couldn’t have been more perfect. It matched her hair, her fiery attitude, and how her presence seemed to heat me from the inside out.
Ember.
“I’m sorry for being a bit of a bitch earlier. I was in a hurry to get home because these two were fussy, and I knew they’d be hungry soon.”
She was a natural with them. I wouldn’t have had a clue how to take care of a kid, let alone two at once. But she sat the plates of food on the coffee table, unhooked the car seats, and lifted them out. Once she was settled, she situated one little girl on one side of her and the other in the crook of her arm. It was like some sort of kid-style Tetris. I was fascinated. The girls woke up in increments, but thankfully they didn’t start crying again. Food seemed to placate them. I needed to remember that.
“You don’t have to apologize,” I said. I scrubbed a hand over my neck as one started talking gibberish. “Do you need some help?”
Amusement danced lively in her eyes. “You? You want to help?”
“How hard could it be?”
She shrugged a little and said, “If you want to. Tillie says she wants some juice.”
I got up and found some apple juice in the fridge. Two sippy cups were on the counter next to it. I filled them up and brought them back. “You must be Tillie,” I said to the little girl, who smiled shyly. “Nice to meet you.”
The little girl happily took the sippy cup and babbled something back.