“You’re Mama’s big girl,” I said, rocking her from side to side. I knew I shouldn’t have baited her, but sometimes I couldn’t help it. Maybe it made me a shitty mother, but God, sometimes it was just funny to annoy her. Lately, though, she’d been a little more sensitive to the whole baby/big girl thing. I was pretty sure it was because she was getting more teeth and everything made her more emotional when she wasn’t feeling good.
I set her on the floor and let her wander off as I grabbed the washcloth and started wiping up her place at the table. I wasn’t quite sure what to say to my unexpected guest now that he wasn’t occupied with my lame attempt at a meal.
“Uh, I should probably get going,” Trevor said, standing up. “I didn’t mean to stay so long.”
“Oh.” I looked up in surprise and nodded. He’d been kind of quiet, and we’d run out of awkward conversation, but his announcement still seemed a little abrupt.
I followed him to the front of the house and watched as he crouched down in front of Etta, who ignored him as she sat on the floor playing. He seemed so massive in our small living room as he said his good-byes to my daughter, but everything about him screamed gentle. That was what I remembered most about him from when we were young: his kindness. He never seemed like a pushover, but out of the entire group of Harris and Evans kids, he’d been the most levelheaded and calm one.
“I’m staying at a hotel with a pretty nice P-O-O-L,” he said. I was thankful he spelled the last word. It was smoothly done and I wondered if he had any kids of his own, but I didn’t feel comfortable asking. “If you ladies feel up to it, later or tomorrow, or whenever.”
“Okay, maybe.” I nodded briefly. “How long are you staying in town?”
“My plans are kind of up in the air at the moment.” He raised his hands in an I don’t know gesture.
We stood there looking at each other, and I laughed a little when he didn’t say anything else. “Uh, we should probably exchange numbers or something?”
“Oh, right!” He made a noise in his throat as he searched for his phone, finally pulling it out of one of his pockets and shaking it side to side.
The minute I’d given him my number he was out the door, leaving me standing there unsure what to do with myself.
Someone had finally showed up, just like I’d known they would, but it hadn’t been nearly as painful as I’d been imagining. Awkward, yes. Uncomfortable, yes. But not painful. He’d been nice. Polite even. I really hoped it wasn’t all an act to gain my trust.
With my mind whirling I glanced at Etta, then jogged down the hall to my room, pulled my phone from the charger, and added Trevor to my contacts. Then I dialed my sister.
“Ranna,” I said the minute she answered. “Henry’s brother just left my house.”
“Oh, shit,” she blurted in response. “Hold on a second.”
I waited for her to finish whatever she was doing while I walked back into the living room and dropped to the couch.
“Okay, I’m back.” The noise around her had quieted. “So what happened?”
“He just showed up at my door,” I said, keeping my voice quiet even though Trevor was long gone. “I think he wanted to get a good look at Etta.”
“Are they pissed about the money?”
“Oddly, no.”
“Oh, come on.” She snorted in disbelief.
“No, really,” I replied, my own disbelief coming to the forefront again. “He didn’t even want to talk about it. He actually apologized.”
“For what?”
“For Henry.”
My baby sister was quiet for a moment. “That’s really weird.”
“I kind of thought so, too. But he seemed pretty pissed that Henry wasn’t around.”
“Well, the guy is dead.”
“Miranda,” I snapped.
“Oh, you know what I mean.”
“Yeah.” My little sister didn’t really have any connection to Henry beyond knowing that he was Etta’s dad and that he’d bailed on us. His death hadn’t affected her in any way that mattered, and sometimes she was really insensitive when he was brought up in conversation. I couldn’t really blame her. I would have felt the same way if the shoe was on the other foot.
“So, what? He just stopped by to say hello?” she asked.
“I think he wanted to get a good look at me and Etta.”
“Morgan,” she said in warning.
“It wasn’t like that.”
“You don’t know that for sure.”
We’d discussed how Henry’s family would handle knowing that he had a daughter numerous times since I’d found out about his death. While I knew logically that they didn’t have any grounds to try to take her, the thought still made me nervous. Miranda, too. We’d seen how the system worked, and it wasn’t always in the best interest of the child or the parent, no matter how well-intentioned child advocates were. There were just so many kids who fell under their care that it was impossible to do the right thing for every single one, no matter how hard they tried. We’d lived that firsthand, and while everything had worked out in the end for us, it had taken a long time before we’d felt secure again.