Page 8 of Sweet Distraction

He snorts. “Perhaps, but I’m also in desperate need of help. And everything I just said was true. Plus, the job is transitional.”

“No one hires at this point in the school year.”

“Exactly. So you can help Poppy. You can transition her to her new family. And you can either look for a new job to start in the fall when school starts or maybe finish that master’s degree you’ve been putting off.” He raises his hands in mock defense and peeks around his hands as if he were expecting me to hit him.

The thought crosses my mind—finishing my master’s has been something I’ve been talking about for some time—but I roll my eyes instead of hitting him.

“Finishing my master’s is the last thing I need to do when I’m not taking in a paycheck.”

“But this will give you a paycheck.”

Why is he making this sound so easy when I know it’s not? That it wouldn’t be.

“About the transitional part,” I say.

“Like I told you when I called you, there’s no guarantee that you’ll be picked up as a long-term caregiver for Poppy, but it’s a paycheck for now . . . and if the man who’s being tested is confirmed as the father, I have a feeling you might just be kept on.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I know what his lawyer has insinuated, but we’ll get into that when and if the time comes.”

My eyes find Poppy again where she sits on the bench next to Jackie. Her feet swing, but she doesn’t play.

It’s been a hot minute since I was the twenty-four-seven caregiver of a child. Those long hours I worked in college are imprinted on my brain, but so is the love and satisfaction I got from the job. No bureaucracy and red tape restricting me.

For some reason, Poppy glances up and meets my gaze. Almost as if she knows I need this to finalize my decision.

Something in my chest clicks into place. Something I can’t shrug off.

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

“Like you were going to say no,” he says and snorts.

“But only while we wait on the paternity test . . . only in the interim. I need to get my life back on track with a lasting position and paycheck.”

“Noted.” He pats my shoulder, aware that lack of routine is hard for me and this no job thing has created just that type of chaos. “Jackie has provided everything important for Poppy. The foods she likes. Her schedule. Her comfort items. Her routines.”

“I’ll have to thank her,” I say, still questioning myself even though I know I’m doing the right thing.

“Okay, so we’ll work out the handoff. I’ve already gotten your background check back and you, personally, signed off on by the powers that be. For now, I suggest you go home and pack some things. We’ll put you two up in an extended stay hotel for now while we wait for the results to come in. And then go from there.”

“Okay.” I stand there like he just didn’t tell me I’m supposed to go and pack.

I look back at the little girl with copper pigtails, and for the first time in weeks, maybe longer, something feels right.

Like maybe this distraction isn’t a detour after all.

Like maybe life is trying to hand me something else.

CHAPTER FOUR

Rocket

This silence I’ve been drowning myself in is louder than any amp I’ve ever blown.

It echoes through my house and feels like every bad decision I’ve ever made is screaming back at me.

I haven’t turned on music. Haven’t touched an instrument. Haven’t called the guys. Haven’t done a damn thing but sit and wallow in a bottle or two of whiskey.