Page 30 of From This Moment (After We Fall 4)
Good girl. I felt proud of her for letting go of the reins a little.
“Perfect!” My mom clapped her hands together. “I’ll keep her until you’re done with work. You can just pick her up here.”
“What about clothes for tomorrow?”
“Oh, I have plenty of things here. You know how I love to shop for her. I always wanted a little girl and ended up with two boys!”
“I can hear you, Mom.” Oh good, I could still speak.
She turned to me and stuck her hands on her hips. “Now I’m not saying my boys weren’t everything to me, but it is fun to have Abby to shop for. I’d shop for your kids too if you had some,” she scolded.
“I was telling him earlier Abby needs some cousins.” Hannah turned and gave me a wicked smile over her shoulder. “Make that happen already, why don’t you?”
I grimaced and took another swallow of scotch. Just what I needed—Hannah and my mother united in their nagging at me to procreate.
“Abby,” my mother said, “let’s go up and you can take a bath in the big tub in my bathroom. Would you like that?”
“Yes.” The little girl jumped to her feet, brushing sand off her hands and knees.
“And then you can put on your princess nightgown and I’ll read you a story if you’re not worn slap out.”
“I’ll get the toys put away down here. Do you need help getting her into the bath?” Hannah asked.
My mother dismissed that idea with a wave of her hand and headed for the steps, Abby in tow. “Not at all.”
While Hannah texted her sitter, I started gathering up buckets and shovels and adding them to the big plastic laundry basket my mother used to keep them all corralled. Hannah joined me a couple minutes later, scooping up brightly-colored molds of fish and mermaids and castle walls. If she felt strange about what she’d done a few minutes ago, she didn’t let on. Maybe I was making more of the gesture than was warranted. Maybe I’d even imagined it.
“Are you proud of me?” she asked.
“Yes.”
She sighed dramatically. “I decided today after our chat that I should try harder with Lenore. I know she means well.”
“Good. Get everything settled with your sitter?”
“Yes. All set. She’s probably glad to have the day off. It’s supposed to be beautiful again tomorrow, although it looks like it might rain tonight.” She glanced at the sky.
“If you want to hang out on the beach after work when you come to get Abby, feel free.” But I sort of hoped she wouldn’t.
“Thanks. Maybe I will.”
When the toys were all in the bin, I took a bucket out again and headed for the lake to fill it up. “You can go up if you want. I’m just going to put out the fire.”
But she didn’t go up. She stood and watched as I doused the remains of the fire, her arms crossed over her chest. I wished I’d put my shirt back on. I felt her eyes on me through the smoke. They wandered over my shoulders and chest and stomach, but when they moved lower than that, she caught herself and looked down at her feet, her lower lip caught between her teeth.
Hannah, you’re killing me. Don’t look at me that way. You don’t really mean it. When the smoke clears, I’m not who you want. I’m not him.
Neither of us spoke. The sky above us darkened unexpectedly, and thunder rolled softly in the distance.
You shouldn’t be alone with her like this.
“Sounds like a storm. You should go up,” I told her.
“I’ll wait with you. I don’t mind.”
“Hannah.” My voice was stern. “Go up.”
A pause. “Okay. Goodnight.”
