CHAPTER SEVEN
Dalton
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I steal a glance at Luna, wondering how the hell she saw the advertisement on the child care website already when I had only just posted it after I ordered the pizza.
Would it really only take ten minutes to read an ad then show up at our front door?
Or am I just being too goddamn paranoid as always?
Luna takes a seat at the other end of the sofa, leans back and sits quietly with her eyes trained on the television set.
Maybe she’s a ‘speak only when spoken to’ kind of person.
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“Thanks, man!” I say to the delivery driver as I hand him enough to cover the pizza and a decent-sized tip. I hate never being able to give them more than a few dollars, but our belts are super tight as it is, so we spare as much as we can.
I carry the large cardboard box into the kitchen, set it on the counter, and retrieve some plates. In the living room, I can hear Luna and Kalen making small talk and I’m happy that he’s coming out of his shell.
He normally doesn’t talk to strangers—or anyone really for that matter—but he seems to be comfortable enough with Luna, though I’m pretty sure this is more for my sake than anything else.
That gets you three pieces, I think with a smile as I pull out slices and lay them on one of the plates.
I set two more on another plate, then balance them carefully as I walk into the living room and hand each of them their slices of pizza.
“I’ll be right back,” I say as I turn on my heel and move hurriedly back into the kitchen to fix my own plate, then return and retake my seat at the end of the sofa.
Kalen grins at me as he sets his plate down. “I’ll grab the napkins and some drinks.”
I look up at him, slightly embarrassed at having forgotten such basic things, but I think it’s because I want to get to the bottom of the mystery of Luna Thompson showing up so goddamn quickly, that the items just slipped my mind.
A few moments later, once everyone has gotten comfortable again and had a few nibbles from their slices of pizza, I reach for the remote and mute the television.
“So, what kind of experience do you have taking care of those who cannot take care of themselves?”
Kalen snickers and I shoot him a withering stare, but Luna sets her plate down and jumps on the question.
Like a pro.
“I took care of my father for a while. He was sick, you know? It was cancer and he was a rough one to care for. He didn’t want anyone around, thought he was able to do everything all for himself, even moved into a small cabin up in the mountains... but I followed him and moved right in because he needed help. Regardless of what he thought,” she states with an eye roll.
I watch as she gingerly flips her long, blonde hair over her shoulder, before clasping her hands around her left knee.
“Anyway, I guess what I’m trying to say is, if I can take care of a grumpy old man riddled with cancer, I’m pretty sure I can take care of anyone else.”
“The only person you've ever watched over was your dying father and you think that makes you a professional caregiver?”
I steal a glance at Kalen, who’s giving her a very inquisitive look. I don’t think he realizes how venomous his question sounded.
Or maybe he did and he’s trying to see if he can rattle her.
Luna gives him the same bright smile she greeted us with at the front door, then answers him with so much confidence it almost instantly shakes away any doubt I had about her based on her appearance alone.
“I can guarantee that you’ve never met a man like my dad. If I can deal with him and make it out in one piece, I can deal with anyone.”
I grin at my brother, who looks flustered and lowers his eyes to the plate in his lap.
Not only did she answer the most important question with such ease and confidence, but she also seems to have put Kalen in his place for the snarky remark he made.
“When can you start?” I ask her with a wide smile.