“A happy ending,” Nash said but he didn’t sound sarcastic now. Only sad. “I don’t think it’s possible in this situation.”
“Maybe not a happy ending. Just a less tragic one. It would hurt to see the store close. And I don’t just mean because it would be an empty storefront on Garner Avenue. Every painting you see on that back wall comes from an artist, including your Aunt Jane. There’s probably not a kitchen cabinet in town that doesn’t have one of those Hawk Valley Happiness cups that Heather designed. Your father sponsored a local little league team every year. The two employees are an elderly woman with a disabled husband who has worked here for over ten years and a college student studying to be a teacher. There are a lot of people, including me, who are happy to help you keep the store open if you’ll only give it a try.”
“That was a mouthful,” Nash said when I finally stopped talking.
“Will you think about it?”
His eyes landed on a stunning landscape painting depicting the highest peak in the Hawk Mountains. I knew it had been painted by his aunt and I wondered if he recognized her style.
“I’ll think about it,” he agreed.
I smiled. “Good.”
Nash nodded in my direction. “So what’s your deal?”
“My deal?”
“You wear a lot of hats. You’re an accountant, a mom, you rescue small town stores and judging from your interaction with Colin you’re also a skilled baby whisperer. And did I hear you mention you’re a student too?”
“Online classes but yes.”
Nash studied me. “Is there anything you can’t do, Kathleen Doyle?”
“Relationships.”
UGH!!!
Nash chuckled. “Noted.”
I was inwardly cringing. “That sounded pathetic.”
He shrugged. “A little.”
I rolled my eyes. “I swear I’m not begging for pity. I just meant that I don’t have the time nor the inclination to deal with relationships.”
“You’re not the only one.”
“Maybe someday my outlook will change but for now I’m better off alone.”
Nash looked interested. “Bad experience?”
A chill rolled through me. “Yes.”
“You’re honest,” he said, nodding. “I like that.”
No. I’m the opposite of honest.
“He must have been Emma’s father?” Nash guessed.
The subject of Emma’s father was not a good one. Someday there’d be a reckoning for the things I’d done, the lies I’d told. But that wouldn’t be happening today and none of it was Nash Ryan’s goddamn business anyway.
“I haven’t seen Emma’s father since I was pregnant,” I said. At least that part was technically true. I made a show of checking my watch. “Speaking of Emma, I’ve got to go pick her up.”
A sudden cry signaled the awakening of Colin. My first instinct was to bolt down the hall and get him but Nash beat me to it. Colin was still crying when Nash returned with the car seat.
“Hold on, kid,” he said. He set the baby down on the floor and hunched over, fumbling with the belt fasteners. I waited a few seconds, then bent over to help. I had Colin freed and in my arms in three seconds flat.
“He’s probably wet,” I said, patting Colin’s bottom. “Where’s the diaper bag?”
Nash blinked. “Ahh…”
“You didn’t bring any diapers?”
“No.”
“No?”
“No. I didn’t think we’d be gone long.”
“Nash, you always need to bring the diaper bag. I gave it back to you packed with clean diapers, remember?”
He was annoyed now. “I forgot, okay? I’m not used to carting around so many accessories.”
“Well, you need to get used to it. Babies have a lot of needs.”
“Kathleen,” he said wearily and I thought he was going to say something nasty but he just exhaled noisily and took a step in the opposite direction while looking away. Colin was still squirming. I bounced him my arms a little to distract him.
“You drove here in the minivan, right?” I asked.
He shot me a look. “Is there a point to that question?”
“Yes. Heather usually kept a few spare diapers in the glove compartment.”
“That’s a good idea.”
Exasperation was getting the best of me. “Can you please go get one?”
Nash was looking more irritated by the second but he went outside without another word. He returned a moment later with a fresh diaper. He dangled it front of my face and I grabbed it.
“You want me to change him?” I asked.
“Is there any way to stop you?” he grumbled.
I ignored the question and carried the fussing baby to the office where I set him down tenderly on the surface of his father’s antique desk on top of a blanket and swiftly changed the diaper. It wasn’t until I was done that I discovered it hadn’t been wet after all.
Nash was leaning against the counter with his arms crossed when I returned. He watched silently as I removed my hair from Colin’s chubby fists and carefully re-installed him in his car seat.
“He’s probably hungry,” I said.
“Probably,” Nash agreed and took the car seat from me.
“I can meet again the same time tomorrow. We’ve got a lot more to talk about if there’s a chance you’re going to keep the store running. I want to show you the financials. And since your father covered the register so often you will need to hire another employee unless you plan to be here just as much.”
“Stop.” Nash shook his head and for a second he just looked extraordinarily tired. “Enough for now, okay?”
I was doing it again. Being pushy, overbearing, demanding.
Bitchy.
I swallowed. “Okay, Nash. I’ll stop.”
He paused by the door and stared at me for a few silent seconds. I didn’t know what he saw when he looked at me. The resident smarty-pants who thought she’d take the world by storm and now struggled to make ends meet as a single mom in the small town she’d once sworn she’d escape.
“I’ll be in touch,” Nash said and then he was gone.
I took a small object from the counter and held it in the palm of my hand. It was a duplicate copy of the key to the store. I’d forgotten to give it to him.
My eyes were starting to blur with fatigue and it was only ten p.m. The night before had been rough, with Colin unwilling to sleep for more than an hour at a time. He was eating just fine and kept filling his diapers so according to my internet research on the habits of babies, there was no cause for alarm. I checked his gums because I read somewhere that sometimes babies can start teething early but his gums looked pink and not remotely swollen.
Kathleen probably would have snapped her fingers and known instantly what the problem was but calling Kathleen would mean I’d have to talk to Kathleen. Talking to Kathleen meant getting an earful about forgotten diaper bags and improper bottle etiquette. After our testy meeting down at the store the other day I figured we needed some space.
Jane and Kevin visited in the late afternoon and I was glad to hand Colin off to them for a few minutes so I could have the luxury of a ten minute shower.
But once my aunt and her boyfriend were gone I was on my own again, wearing out the hardwood floors as I walked Colin back and forth and back again because he started crying every time I put him down. I didn’t know how much crying a typical baby did but it seemed this kid was shooting for a world record. He finally fell asleep about an hour after the sun went down and I would have been happy to follow his example if I didn’t have a pile of work to deal with.