The Good Father. Diane ChamberlainЧитать онлайн книгу.
anyone who does child care?”
She shrugged with a smile. “I know me,” she said. “I’ve had experience. I told you I worked in a day care. My classes are at night and all I do all day right now is hang out. I’d love to watch her.”
“I’d pay you, of course. I mean, as soon as I get work.”
She nodded. “Not easy to find right now, huh?”
I shook my head. “Twenty guys for every job, at least,” I said.
“Well, if you find a job, you’ve got a sitter. Except …” She hesitated, taking a few more chops at the celery. “I have to go out of town sometimes. I have friends I visit in Raleigh when I don’t have class. But I could probably find someone to cover for me then.”
“Okay,” I said, thinking that I wouldn’t want to leave Bella with someone I didn’t know. But then, what did I know about Savannah herself? I should probably ask to speak to the day care where she’d worked, but I was afraid that would sound like an insult. What I knew about Savannah was that she grew up in Kinston and was taking night classes to learn how to do hair or nails or whatever and that she drank beer and smoked enough weed to have a bong on her kitchen counter. I wondered if she did anything heavier than marijuana. I’d keep an eye on how much she drank tonight. What if she had friends who hung out with her at the trailer? I didn’t want a bunch of losers hanging around Bella. I wondered if I was one of the losers now. Maybe that’s what Savannah was thinking.
“Where’s Bella’s mom?” she asked quietly as she dropped the celery into the salad bowl.
“Beaufort,” I said.
“Is she … What’s her name?”
“Robin.”
“Was she unfit or what? How come Bella’s with you?”
“It’s a long story,” I said. Robin wasn’t my favorite topic, especially not with someone I didn’t know well.
“Does Bella ever see her?”
“Sure,” I lied. It was none of her business, and the lie seemed the easiest way out of the conversation. “Want me to shred some carrots for the salad?”
“Sure.” Savannah smiled. Touched my arm. “I think Bella’s a lucky little girl to end up with you,” she said.
Over dinner, we did most of our talking to and through Bella, but beneath the table Savannah ran her bare foot up my leg. The first time, she looked at me with a question in her eyes, like “Is this okay? Are we on the same page?” and I gave her a little smile back to let her know it was as okay as it could be, even though I knew hooking up with her might be really stupid. I needed her to take care of Bella more than I needed a lover. But right then, with her foot inching closer to the inside of my thigh, I wasn’t thinking all that much about child care.
We watched a little TV with Bella after dinner, then I settled her down on Savannah’s couch. I didn’t think she’d go right to sleep. It usually took her a while, especially in a strange place, and she was used to me reading to her in bed before lights out. She’d had a ton of books that burned in the fire, but Franny’d given us The Cat in the Hat when we first moved in with her, and Bella didn’t seem to mind hearing it over and over again. Even when we were finished reading, she’d rarely just drift off. She’d ask for water or get up to tell me or my mom something that couldn’t possibly wait until morning and generally wear herself out. But the lack of a nap was working to her advantage tonight. My advantage. I covered her over and watched while she sank into a deep sleep, and as I tucked the light blanket tighter over her shoulders, Savannah leaned over and nuzzled my neck.
I stood up and put my arms around her. “Listen,” I said. “I’m not ready for anything ser—”
“Shh.” She kissed me. “I don’t care about serious,” she said. “I’m all about living in the present moment.” She took my hand and we walked into her bedroom and, for a couple of hours, I forgot about the fire and my lack of a job and just about everything except my body and hers.
9 Robin
ONCE MY BED-AND-BREAKFAST GUESTS WERE well fed and ready to explore Beaufort for the day, I left my assistant, Bridget, to clean up and headed next door to Hendricks House. The fact that, at thirty-three, Dale still lived with his parents had seemed weird to me until I saw his apartment. He had the entire second story to himself with a separate entrance. Once we were married, we’d have a place of our own, of course. Just two weeks ago, a few days before Hannah was born, we’d signed a contract on a small house a block from the water. Or at least Dale had signed the contract. The Beaufort-style bungalow would be in his name until we were married. We’d close in a month and I couldn’t wait to fix it up. I’d still manage the B and B, although Bridget would take over my roomy first-floor apartment and I’d do less of the day-to-day grunt work. If Dale had his way, I wouldn’t be doing any of it. I could be a lady of leisure, he said, just doing volunteer work like his mother. He didn’t like it when I talked about going to school. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be a nurse or some kind of medical technician, but I was absolutely certain I’d need more in my life than the garden club and playing golf and tennis, two games I hated to begin with. Dale thought I should just take it easy. He was always worrying about my health. I took a couple of handfuls of pills a day and had to be careful around germs, but I refused to live my life in a bubble the way he wanted me to.
I walked across the driveway that ran between the B and B and Hendricks House and spotted Mollie working in the garden by the front steps. They had a gardener, of course—a bunch of them, actually—who took care of both properties, but the garden that ran the width of the house belonged to Mollie.
“Hi, Mom,” I said as I neared her. She sat back on her heels and adjusted her straw hat to look at me.
“Hi, sweetheart.” Her smile looked a little tired and I guessed that having a baby in the house was taking a toll on everyone’s sleep. I’d started calling Mollie and James Mom and Dad at their insistence right after Dale and I announced our engagement a year ago. Calling Mollie “Mom” came easily to me. I loved how kind she was to me. I didn’t remember my own mother and I’d spent most of my life wishing I had someone I could call Mom. Calling James “Dad” had been tougher, though. My own father had still been alive then, so I already had a dad. Plus James always held his distance. Oh, he was really nice to me and I knew he loved me in his own way, but he was such a politician. I was never certain if what was written on his face was what he was really feeling. I’d seen him smile warmly at too many people he’d later put down in private to trust him completely. I sometimes saw the same trait in Dale and it shook me up.
“Alissa’s going to be so happy to see you.” Mollie brushed a speck of dirt from her khaki shorts. “That baby was up all night.”
“Did she keep you awake?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Ear plugs. I’ve worn them ever since I married James. I’m going to give you a pair as a wedding gift.”
I laughed. I started to say that Dale didn’t snore, but thought better of it. I honestly didn’t know if they realized how often Dale stayed over at my apartment. Anyhow, it would be “indelicate” of me to say. I was learning a lot about what was tolerated in a family that needed to keep a polished public image. The word indelicate came up a lot. That’s why they dealt so openly and quickly with Alissa’s pregnancy, making lemonade out of lemons.
I’d adored Alissa from the moment I met her. She’d been barely fifteen with silky-straight, long, dark hair and a wide, white smile. For the longest time, I’d thought what an amazing teenager she was. She seemed so together. Straight-A student. Popular, with a sweet, shy, lovable boyfriend named Jess. She was a whiz with anything to do with the computer. She set up the website for the bed-and-breakfast herself at fourteen. If anyone should have been able to see through a facade, though, it should have been me, and even I missed it. Only when she was five months pregnant did she tell her parents and