The less friction between them, the better.
The less
anything
between them, the better.
The excuse he gave Roberta for staying out of their way had actually been the truth. He’d recently been approached by Dirk Gentry, a filmmaker who wanted to collaborate on a documentary covering the first decade of the new millennium. For many of the headline news events over the past ten years, Nate had been there. And he had more than one award-winning photo to prove it. Dirk had earned a good reputation in documentary filmmaking already. He’d insisted together they would make an unstoppable team. And now that he was on board, Nate hoped Dirk’s prediction was as good as his filmmaking.
Earlier, he’d put Dirk off because of his assignment in Afghanistan, not to mention the time it would take to go through his catalog of photos and his film footage. But now that his evenings were free, Nate could devote the time the project required.
When he’d told Hallie about the documentary, she’d seemed as relieved as he was that he had something to occupy his night. As stupid as it sounded, the fact that Hallie did seem relieved actually hurt Nate’s ego a little.
Maybe men should also come with a warning label. Not good at dealing with emotions. Ever.
He certainly didn’t like dealing with his emotions. Probably the reason he felt the most comfortable hanging out behind the lens of the camera. He liked the distance it gave him, liked that he was part of events without having to personally engage. No surprise then that Hallie’s indifference toward him in the past had provided him that same opportunity—to watch her from a safe distance.
Now, however, he had no choice but to interact with Hallie. Was this changed dynamic what had him so confused? He panicked when she plainly let him know she wanted him. Yet he panicked when it appeared that she didn’t.
Nate shook his head, his mind too boggled to figure it out. Better to focus on sorting his catalogs and not over-analyze this. He had just picked up another photo album to go through when he heard the intercom click.
“Nate? I’m ready to go now.”
He rose and walked over to the box on the wall. “I’ll be there in a minute, Roberta.”
He wasn’t looking forward to the ride. Roberta was a lot like Hallie when it came to saying what was on her mind. He’d already prepared himself to get an earful.
As he approached his SUV where it was parked in the driveway, he found Roberta already seated inside and Hallie standing at the passenger door holding Ahn. The look Hallie shot him seemed to say, “Can’t you move any faster?”
He felt like asking her if she wanted to trade places.
Hallie helped Ahn wave goodbye as he reversed out of the driveway. They hadn’t even reached the main road when Roberta said, “I don’t want Hallie hurt, Nate. There’s no use in pretending you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
“I have no intention of doing anything but helping Hallie take care of Ahn, Roberta.”
“Good,” she said. “Because you aren’t a forever kind of guy, are you, Nate?”
Nate kept his eyes straight ahead. “No. I’m not.”
“And you understand you have to leave Hallie alone.”
“Yes,” Nate said. “I know that.”
“Good,” Roberta said again. “Hallie is going to need your help. She thinks she’s prepared because she made it through this week, but she isn’t. Taking care of a toddler is a never-ending responsibility that Hallie isn’t expecting.”
“I understand,” Nate said. “I plan to do my part.”
“She’s in love with you, you know.”
Nate laughed and, this time, he did look over at her. “Now that’s where you’re wrong, Roberta. Hallie’s hated me for years.”
“Hated you? Or hated what you did to her?”
I was crazy about you
. Hallie’s confession flashed through Nate’s mind, leaving a twinge of panic in its wake.
“This is going to come as a surprise, but Hallie and I have already talked about the situation. We both agree Ahn is our top priority. She’s all we’re interested in. Nothing more.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Roberta said. “Hallie needs a friend right now, not a lover. And you’re going to need Hallie’s friendship, too, even though I suspect that’s hard for you to admit.”
Nate didn’t try to argue with her.
Everything she was saying now was true.
“I know how much you loved your brother and I know how much you’re going to miss him,” she said. “And I also know what you went through trying to raise him. You did a fine job of that, Nate.”
He didn’t like dragging up the memories of how hard it had been living with a mother who was so depressed she stayed in bed for weeks at a time. Of how he’d gone from a boy to a man overnight after his father’s death. How he’d learned to cook and clean and take over every facet of his younger brother’s care as well as his own.
His childhood had been painful for him, and Nate had spent his adulthood trying to forget it.
They rode in silence after that. A long, painful silence. He’d let Roberta have her say—respected her too much to do any differently. But there wasn’t much left for them to talk about.
Roberta was a hard woman to like because of her abrasive way of speaking her mind and the high standards she held people to. But she was a good woman to have in your corner—she’d defend one of her own to the ends of the earth. Nate only hoped Hallie realized how lucky she was to have Roberta. He would have given anything if he’d had a mother who’d been so protective of him.
Finally, Nate pulled up in front of Roberta’s complex. He was as relieved as Roberta seemed surprised to find The Colonel sitting on a bench outside, patiently awaiting their arrival.
Even though the man was in his seventies, Nate would have pegged him as military at a single glance. The Colonel’s gray hair was clipped short, his shirt starched, the crease pressed into his pants razor-sharp. He stood up as Nate came to a stop, shoulders back, head held high, ready to take command of the situation.
Nate got out and walked to the rear of the SUV for Roberta’s luggage. The Colonel’s handshake was firm and strong. Roberta was so flattered over her new beau fawning over her, Nate was saved from any parting schoolteacher lectures. But her final reply was enough.
“I’ll be checking in on things,” she said.
Nate knew it wasn’t an idle threat and she was referring to more than Ahn’s care.
As he headed back to Wedge Pond, everything Roberta had said reverberated through Nate’s mind. Regardless of what Roberta thought, he didn’t believe for one minute that Hallie was in love with him. In lust—definitely.
But not in love.
Roberta acted as if Hallie had been pining for him all these years. What a laugh that was. Hallie had never been lacking for male attention any more than he’d suffered for lack of female attention.
Roberta’s problem was her old-school outlook on life. She hadn’t accepted the fact that, yes, it was perfectly normal for healthy men and women to have sex without being madly in love with each other.
Still, she was right about Hallie needing a friend, and not a lover. And she’d need all the help he could give her with Ahn.
Nate was willing to be Hallie’s friend, and he was willing to help with Ahn.
He’d do his best to leave it at that.
If she called after only minutes of being left alone with Ahn for the first time, she’d never be able to live it down.
So where the hell was Nate? Ahn had been crying nonstop practically from the moment Nate and Roberta left. Three hours ago. And Hallie didn’t have a clue what was wrong. After they’d waved goodbye to Roberta all of a sudden Ahn’s tiny face had screwed up into an angry frown, her lower lip had trembled, then the screaming had commenced.
Hallie had checked her diaper. She’d felt Ahn’s head for any signs of a fever. She’d looked the baby over from head to toe. As far as she could tell, there wasn’t a single thing wrong.
“Please stop crying,” Hallie begged, adding a little more bounce to her jostling.
Ahn only cried louder.
“Oh, look. There’s a birdie.” Hallie turned Ahn toward the birdfeeder.
Ahn’s loud wail sent the bird flapping.
“You want to play in your sandbox?” Hallie cooed, heading for the large plastic pink and green castle that David had set up on the far end of the deck. “You love to play in your sandbox.”
Ahn drew her legs up in protest, her feet never touching the sand.
“Poor baby, I know you miss your mommy. I miss her, too. And I promise I’ll find you a new mommy. A mommy who will be much better at this than I am. But you have to work with me here, Ahn. I’m doing the best I can. And if you’ll just have a little patience, everything is going to get much better than it is right now.”
If possible, Ahn’s wail reached an even higher octave.
Hallie was on the verge of bursting into tears when Nate’s Range Rover finally pulled into the driveway. She hurried down the steps in Nate’s direction.
He jumped out of the vehicle, a worried expression on his face as he ran to meet them. “What’s wrong?”
“Take her,” Hallie demanded, holding the baby out in front of her. “She’s been crying since you left.”
He looked reluctant, but Hallie pushed Ahn into Nate’s arms anyway. The second Nate took her, Ahn stopped crying, placed her head against Nate’s shoulder, and stuck her thumb in her mouth.
“I knew it!” Hallie exclaimed. “I didn’t want to believe it, but it’s true. Ahn can sense how nervous I am taking care of her. That’s why she freaked out when she looked around and realized it was just the two of us.” Nate frowned. “And how did you reach that conclusion?”
“From one of the million baby books I’ve been reading all week. It plainly states children can pick up on a person’s apprehension. It scares them.”
“If that were true, she’d still be crying,” Nate said. “I’m certainly not comfortable holding her.”
“But she obviously feels safe with you.”
Ahn snuffled a few times as if to agree.
“You’re overreacting, Hallie. Kids cry. They don’t need a reason.”
Hallie shook her head. “No, I’m right about this. Ahn’s having one of those drastic mood swings Dr. Langston mentioned. And I obviously don’t have the touch to calm her down.”
“Prove it,” Nate said, handing Ahn over.
Hallie tensed as she slowly eased Ahn onto her hip. Ahn sniffed again, but didn’t break out the tears. She looked at Nate, then at Hallie, her thumb still in her mouth.
“See?” Nate said. “Kids cry. It’s what kids do.”
“Not this kid,” Hallie said. “This is the first time I’ve heard her cry. I think she feels safer because you’re here and you look like David.”
“Or maybe she’s just hungry.”
“I don’t think so,” Hallie said. “She ate a pretty good breakfast.”
“But now it’s time for lunch,” Nate said. “Are you hungry?”
“No, Roberta,” Hallie said drolly. “I’m not hungry.”
“Well, I am. And it’s time for Ahn to eat, too. Let’s go inside and I’ll fix you and I some lunch while you feed Ahn.” Nate started for the house, ending the subject.
Hallie quickly caught up. “Okay, Nate. What’s going on? You always eat lunch alone at the cottage. So confess. What lecture did Roberta give you on her way home?”
He ignored her question and opened the French doors that led into the house. Hallie entered ahead of him, aware she wasn’t going to get an answer. That was Nate’s M.O. If he didn’t want to answer, he simply ignored the question.
Fine. Let him ignore her. He’d been doing so since the day she met him.
Hallie headed toward the kitchen. The fact that he’d offered to make lunch already confirmed that Roberta had indeed given him one of her lectures on their trip into Boston. And good for her.
After listening to Ahn scream for three long hours, Hallie was desperate for any help Nate offered—today and beyond.
“Would you like some juice?” Hallie asked as she cautiously placed Ahn into her high chair. She promptly took her thumb out of her mouth, which Hallie took to mean yes.
She went to fill Ahn’s sippy cup. After the morning they’d had, however, Hallie wasn’t looking forward to the lunchtime struggle with the organic peas and carrots on Ahn’s recommended lunch menu. She took the baby food jars from the cabinet, placed a scoop of each on either side of Ahn’s divided dish, and stirred them with a baby spoon she took from the silverware drawer. Once she’d warmed the vegetables in the microwave, Hallie walked to Ahn, keeping the dish hidden behind her back.
“Juice,” Hallie said, placing the sippy cup in front of Ahn. “Can you say juice?”
Ahn picked up the cup and started drinking.
Hallie eased the dish onto the tray and took a seat. Ahn watched her, still swilling the juice.
“That’s enough juice for now,” Hallie said, taking the cup away from Ahn. “Let’s try some peas.”
Hallie dipped the spoon into the green goo and angled it toward Ahn’s mouth. Ahn turned her head and pushed Hallie’s hand away.
Hallie sighed and glanced at Nate, who had a myriad of sandwich items spread out on the island. “I have an idea,” Hallie said him. “Why don’t you feed Ahn, and I’ll make our lunch?”
“Me?”
“Wasn’t that our agreement?” Hallie reminded him. “That we would share the responsibility for Ahn’s care?”
“Yes,” he said, “but it was your decision that I stay out of Roberta’s way all week. You have to give me time to catch up.”
“Pay attention, this is real difficult,” Hallie said. “Dip the spoon into the food, then put the spoon into the baby’s mouth.”
“Cute.”
Hallie held up the spoon and smiled at him.
Nate didn’t smile back. But he wiped his hands on a towel and approached. Hallie immediately abandoned her perch and let him sit.
She didn’t immediately take over making their lunch. Instead, she stood behind him, arms folded, smiling to herself. Although he hadn’t come right out and said it, she’d gotten the impression he thought she was making too big a deal about the child-care basics. Something about his attitude suggested she was overreacting to the simplest things—such as feeding or changing Ahn. Well, he’d learn. He was about to discover there were few things in life more resistant or spirit-breaking than a stubborn toddler.
Nate picked up the spoon and dipped it into the peas. When he moved the spoon forward Ahn opened her mouth. In the spoon went, and Ahn swallowed.
Hallie gasped. “How did you do that?”
Nate looked over his shoulder. “Pay attention, this is real difficult.” He dipped the spoon into the peas and Ahn took another mouthful.
“
Not
funny.” Hallie stomped toward the island to finish their sandwiches. Yes, she was being a baby. But she didn’t care. It wasn’t fair. She’d worked hard all week trying to bond with Ahn. She’d hugged the girl and kissed her and read to her and praised her and changed her and bathed her and dressed her and
tried
to feed her those damn organic veggies.
Hallie watched Nate feed her the freaking carrots.
You little flirt,
Hallie thought.
Apparently, Ahn was no different from any other woman. All it took was one look from Nate and she was willing to do anything he wanted.