A Roof Over Their Heads. M. K. StelmackЧитать онлайн книгу.
I think she’s flat-out busy with them.”
“Is a dad there?”
Something he’d like to know, too. The woman clearly needed help. “Don’t see one.”
Paul made a noncommittal sound, one that had gotten him through a few tense situations with Seth’s sister.
“Okay, then. Could you put the mom back on, please?”
Seth walked over and passed her the phone, trying to check for a wedding ring but she took it with her right hand, her left slotted into the front pocket of her jeans. As if it was any of his business, anyway. If he hurried, he might yet make it to the store. He turned to go.
Then, on his bare arm, the feather touch of her fingertips. Her left hand. No ring.
“Don’t leave, Seth.”
* * *
WHAT HAD SHE DONE? She’d reached for this near stranger as if she’d done it a hundred million times, as if he were— She snatched her hand away, snapped her attention back to the cop.
“...number of resources available to newcomers such as yourself. Are you aware...?”
As the officer’s advice rolled on, Alexi’s attention drifted as always to the kids. Just in time to see Callie whack Bryn square in the back with a weed taller than her, roots first. A splotch of dirt appeared on the 53 of Seth Greene’s bright blue jersey.
“Hey!” he called and strode toward them, his big stick in hand.
No. Callie.
“...the town office is probably the best place to start—”
Callie took one look at the big man with the stick and screamed as if on fire. She shot past him to collide against Alexi’s leg with enough force to throw her off balance.
Alexi hopped about on her sore ankle, sucking in the pain, and pulled the phone away from her ear. “Bryn, you need to give the shirt back to this man.”
Bryn crossed his arms and gripped the jersey sleeves. “But he gave it to me.”
Steady again on her feet, Alexi fought for a way to get through to Bryn. Seth beat her to it.
“I gave it to you to wear home,” he said to Bryn.
“You said the deal was I had to wear it. And I am.”
“Only while you were in my truck, bud.”
“But then I’ll be naked again.”
Alexi heard the cop. “Hello? Is everything okay, Ms. Docker?”
“Yes, yes, everything’s just fine. Mr. Greene is meeting the kids, is all.”
Seth closed the distance between them and motioned for the phone. From the downturn of his mouth, she wasn’t sure if she should. Then again, if he was talking to the officer, he wasn’t with the kids. She handed it over.
“Listen, Paul,” Seth said, “You need to let the mom get back to being a mom before the kid bolts again.”
There was a pause.
“No, she doesn’t need assistance. I’m here.”
He listened a few more seconds before rolling his eyes. “Later,” he said and ended the call. Clearly, Seth Greene and the cop were bros.
Bryn pointed at Seth. “You want my shirt and my stick.”
Seth stared at the odd-shaped stick in his hand as if he’d forgotten he was holding it. “Tell you what,” he said, “you give me my shirt and I’ll give you back your bat.”
“A bat?” Bryn asked, echoing Alexi’s thought.
Seth put a choke hold on the thinner end of the bat and swung it, only a little, but Callie suctioned even tighter on her leg. Seth stilled his swing and eased his grip into a limp hold. He looked at Bryn. “We got a deal?”
Bryn hesitated and then said, “Okay, but first I’m going to get water. I’m thirsty.” He headed to the house.
No, not a repeat of the last time he went inside. Alexi jumped—sore ankle, Callie and all—in front of Bryn. “How about I take you all for slushies?” She looked over to Amy and Matt. “All of you.” She switched back to Bryn. “But first you have to take off the shirt.”
Bryn gripped the back of the jersey to do just that, but Matt and Amy yelled the naked consequences of that move.
Alexi could feel Seth Greene taking all this in, drawing his conclusions, passing them on to his cop-buddy tonight.
“Bryn. Look at me.” She waited until his gaze connected with her collarbone. “Go to the backyard. Get on your clothes. Okay? Backyard. Clothes on. Bring me back the blue shirt. What are you going to do?”
“Backyard. Clothes on. Bring you the blue shirt.” He headed off and Amy followed. She’d make sure it happened. Matt lingered. A double helix of pride—that Matt would protect her and sadness that he felt he had to—twisted inside her. She depended on him far more than was healthy for a boy his age and with his background.
She extended her hand to Seth. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I haven’t thanked you for bringing back Bryn. Thank you. I—well—it’s been a day. There have been...a few problems.”
He looked at his truck, looked at her hand. The instant he took it, she wished he hadn’t. Her sweaty palm slimed his dry, muscled grip. Hot embarrassment flooded her already overheated body, cresting when he quickly released her hand. “How so?”
How so? She aimed for a light remark. Instead out poured, “The place reeks of paint. There’re no floors. No floors, no fridge, no stove. No kitchen sink. It’s what made Bryn run off.” She licked her lips. “Worse, no water.”
He straightened. “No water?” He was tall; she barely reached his shoulder. “You might need to just turn the valve. It’s by—it should be downstairs in the furnace room right against the far wall. Usually about a foot or two off the ground.”
“Did that. Only the valves to the taps weren’t shut off and water sprayed everywhere, so I have to figure out what goes where.”
“You called the owner?”
“Yes, but she’s not picking up.”
He hefted the stick in his hand and his thick arm muscles corded. Callie whimpered and Alexi lifted her into her arms. Seth glanced at the stick, walked to the garden, set it down and returned without a word. Alexi felt Callie’s body sag with relief against hers.
“Until you sort it out with her,” he said, as if there’d been no interruption to their conversation, “the outside tap runs—usually runs—through a separate pipe. You could try it.”
She’d never thought of that. “Of course.” She leaned to check the side of the house, Matt leaning with her. She couldn’t see anything.
“Might be on the other side,” Seth contributed.
Matt moved to check but halted at the man’s next words. “You on your own?”
Alexi stiffened. One act of kindness didn’t give him access to her life file. Besides, she wasn’t about to admit to a stranger that she and the kids were alone.
Before she could answer, Matt spoke. “Daddy-R died a year ago.” He swallowed. “A year ago today.”
He’d remembered. Alexi had hoped that the excitement of today would make the kids forget the anniversary. Matt lifted his eyes to her, deep brown eyes Richard had described as rock and wood and land, all things solid. Right now, they’d gone soft with unshed tears.
“I’m sorry,” Seth said. The standard words of condolence were low and distinct as if the man well and truly was sorry.
Matt squared his shoulders