12th January

Saturday rolls around and I'm out of bed at seven. The fire still has embers burning from the night before, keeping the living area warm.

I throw another couple of logs on and open the curtains to the sun starting to rise. It snowed over night and I groan, hoping it melts soon so it's not a pain in the ass moving Gabs and Lydia in.

I spent the rest of the week after we had dinner at Matt's, getting Dallas' bedroom organised. Not before asking her what I should do with all of her shit first. She told me to box it up and shove it in the garage until she could come and go through it.

That initiated a bit of back and forth between us. I was adamant she should've sorted it ages ago and she was adamant she'd been telling me to clear out the room for ages. We didn't resolve the argument but I stand by the fact that it's her shit and she should've decided what to do with it after she moved to California.

We both knew she would never move back. Not for a damn thing.

There wasn't a lot of room in the garage, but I made it fit. While I was cleaning out her closet, I kept hoping to find a diary or something I could laugh at, not that I would read it, but I would send her photos and let her think I did.

However, my sister didn't appear to keep one. It wasn't a surprise. She wasn't big on book work, hated her homework, barely sat still long enough to write out her assignments. Not unless she was watching dance competitions or the football.

I'm at the breakfast bar eating a bowl of scrambled eggs when I look at the date. In the quiet of the house, I pull up Drayton's contact and hit speaker before dropping my phone on the countertop.

He answers faster than I expect considering it's his birthday and it's also—

"Eight in the morning? Cunt, what the fuck?"

I'd considered that he's an hour behind and decided to call anyway.

"You're an athlete. You should've been out of bed hours ago."

"Get fucked. I was in the gym at five, back to bed at seven. That's how I make sure I'm pumped for whatever morning activities roll over and say good morning to me."

I sigh. "How's it going? Happy birthday."

It sounds like he's shifting in bed. "Thanks, man. You getting a call in before I can spend the day having birthday se—"

"What else are you doing?" I interrupt before he can tell me things I don't need to know. He does it to wind me up, everything he does is to wind someone up.

"Fuck knows," he says. "Dallas has something planned for us."

"Is she there?"

He makes a sound of offence in the back of his throat. "I thought you called to talk to me."

"I said what I called to say."

He loudly laughs and I shovel a forkful of eggs into my mouth. "Yeah hang on, Dallas is right here. She wants to talk about something."

Quickly swallowing, I wish him another happy birthday and then Dallas takes the line, her voice tired and deep, like it is when she's half asleep.

"Morning," she says.

"How's it going?"

"Good good. Gabby's moving in today, right?"

Getting up off the stool, I take my bowl over to the sink and flick the tap on. "Yeah. I cleaned out the bedroom and got it sorted. Garage is fucking full now."

"Yeah because you used it so much before," she says, full of sarcasm. The corners of the kitchen window are still iced over, but I can see out of the middle of them, the neighbor brushes snow off his mailbox. "You should clean out the office too. That could be a bedroom for Lydia."

"It's tiny."

"So is she."

I turn around and lean on the counter. "They won't be here long enough for that sort of effort."

"Well-"

"Where's that engagement video at?" I cut her off, the one who has to be in charge off all things. "I want to see it."

"The photographer is still editing it. She's back logged with other customers. Don't change the subject. Are things completely ready for Gabs and Lydia?"

Rolling my eyes I say, "yes, it's all good. I wouldn't have invited them here if I wasn't going to accommodate them."

"There's a place for Lydia's toys in the living room? Extra towels? Space in the bathroom cupboard for Gabby's personal products? A sanitary bin beside the toilet? A lock for the bathroom door? You can't have no lock now that you're not living alone."

Fuck. Turns out I'm not as prepared as I thought.

"I'll get that shit sorted." Pause. "Can you text me that list."

She sighs. "Go and do that. Put the bathroom lock at the top of the list. Honestly it stresses me out that you didn't fix it when it broke."

"Because you'd moved out. What the fuck was the point when it's just me?"

"Uh, an intruder coming in while you're showering? Or going to the toilet. Imagine taking a shit and someone breaks in and murders you mid drop. Like, just imagine."

"You've been living with Drayton for too long."

He shouts from the background, "these are very real concerns bro. You never know."

"Yeah, alright. I'll go and get that shit sorted then. I think I'm meant to be at her place at around ten."

Dallas becomes a touch more quiet. "Mhmm, she wants to leave while her mom is out with her friends. Camilla knows Gabby is leaving but she doesn't want it to be awkward."

I feel bad for her. Whatever happened after I dropped her off on Wednesday night was nasty enough that she sought solace with me. As surprised as I was, there's no way I would've turned her down if she was willing to reach out, especially knowing she didn't want to move in with me in the first place.

Dallas and I chat for a few more minutes while I walk around the house and pick up bits and pieces, a beer bottle between the couch cushions, a pair of socks on the floor, a sandwich wrapper on the TV cabinet. Dallas fills me in on what she's up to, how work is and what it's like travelling with Drayton this season.

She lets me know she wants to visit again in the next few months and mentions she'd like me to go to California for her birthday in February. The vacations over to her beach house in Hermosa don't break the bank because I cover the flights and she puts me up at her house while I'm there. A bit of spending money is all I need, we don't do a whole lot anyway.

After we've hung up, I get organised to go out and head straight to the hardware store. I've got an hour before I need to be at Gabby's. Dallas is right, the bathroom door needs a lock.

                   I've just finished installing a slide lock when I hear a light thump on the door. Checking my phone for the time as I walk across the living room, I wince, seeing it's nine fifty seven. I'm running late. This better not be someone that's going to hold me up.

It's Gabby and a little girl standing next to her, who I recognize from photos as Lydia.

"Hi," Gabby inhales a quick breath, seeming nervous. "Ten, right?"

"I thought I was coming to meet you at your house?"

Lydia slips past me, going straight inside. "The fire is going momma."

"Sorry," Gabby comes inside when I step out of her path. I shouldn't have left them out in the cold but I'm surprised to see them here. "She's. . . a confident little girl."

"No stress," I look between them before I settle on Gabs and fold my arms. "Uh, so what's going on? I thought I had to come and help?"

"No, I asked if ten was okay to move."

"Yeah, I thought I'd need to help."

Gabby slips a pair of dark blue gloves off her fingers. I'm ashamed to notice how beautiful her hands are. Beautiful hands? I'm fucking ill.

"I didn't need help," she says. "I don't have a lot of stuff so I just shoved it all in the car."

I slowly nod. "Miscommunication then," I dismiss it and look at Lydia, peeling her hat, gloves and coat off. "You didn't have a fire place before?"

"Mom does have one, she just doesn't use it,. She finds the heat pump easier."

"I like the fire place," Lydia tells me, folding her legs. She's a cutie, the same nose and cheek bones as her mom. Her brown curls are in pigtails at her neck. "Can I help with the wood?"

"Help with the wood?" I ask, not sure what she means but I'm impressed with her confident speech.

"I want to help with the wood," she says. "Carrying it and lighting the fire and stuff."

"I think that sounds like a good job for you," I say, pleasantly surprised at how forward she is. "You can carry the kindling for me. How about that?"

"What's kindling?"

"The little bits of wood that get the fire going at the start. You can't just chuck big logs on, they won't catch fire. It has to be little pieces first."

She looks at her hands and then nods at me. "That sounds like a good job for me."

"What else you wanna be in charge of?" I ask, heading over to sit on the sofa. I lean my elbows on my knees and watch her while she thinks, her finger on her chin, face tipped up at the ceiling with narrow eyes. It's a dramatic look.

"Do you have a dog?"

Gabby sits down beside me and I get a whiff of her sweet smell, like a goddess of the forest, completely bathed in the most exquisite aromas nature can offer.

"No ma'am," I answer, ignoring the woman beside me. "No dog."

Lydia frowns. "A cat?"

"Nope."

She pouts, thinks for a minute and then lifts her palm in question. "Any aminal I can feed at all?"

Gabby and I both laugh a little. I like her mispronunciation.

"I have been thinking about building a squirrel feeder in the back yard."

Her eyes light up.

"You wanna help me with that?"

"Yes!"

Well, it looks like I'm building a squirrel feeder now. Never mind I've been trying to keep the fucking things out of my yard for as long as I can remember. Perhaps I should just get a dog.

"Baby, why don't you go and look around the house," Gabby suggests and then looks to me for approval.

I nod. "Go and have a nosy."

She stands up and wanders off, her head moving side to side and up at the ceiling as she goes, as if she needs to inspect it inch by inch. When she disappears down the hall, Gabby and I are alone in the quiet living room. She turns her knees into me.

"Thank you again," she says and I look at her. Fuck, she's beautiful. "I really appreciate this."

"It's no problem."

"I just think I should get some things out in the open now, rather than later."

I gesture for her to go ahead.

"I'm her mom, so don't over step any boundaries," she twists her fingers together, like she's nervous to be so forward. Not that it's stopped her in the past. "If she's doing something that you don't like around here, let me know and I'll sort it out. Uh, if she's doing something life threatening, by all means, step in. She's a very opinionated little girl but I don't call it being opinionated and I don't want you to shut her opinions down either. Even if she can be annoying sometimes."

I lean back into the couch and put my hands behind my head, she twists her torso, following me and her eyes rake over my body.

"Do you think I ever told Dallas not to be so opinionated? And do you think I'd still be alive if I did?"

Her laugh is light. "Yeah, good point."

"She's a cool kid," I say and Gabby faces forward again, nodding.

"She is."

"Mommy," Lydia's shout comes from the hall and Gabby is off the couch before I can blink. "There's a bunk bed!"

We get to the threshold of Dallas' bedroom and there she is, on the top of the bunk bed Cain had kindly gifted me when I told him Gabby and Lydia were moving in. A white wooden bunk with a single bed on top and a double at the bottom. His kids no longer use it now that Banks is in his own bedroom.

"That's so cool," Gabby smiles and I stare at her because her smile is devastating.

"I thought it'd save room," I say, voice tight. "Give you your own beds and still enough room for drawers and toys."

"I'm on the top bunk," Lydia declares, holding the railing and bouncing on her knees. "I dibssed it."

"Oh damn," Gabby sighs, slipping her coat off. "That's a shame. I guess I'll have the bottom double bed."

Lydia sticks her tongue out at both of us.

Gabby was right when she said she doesn't have a lot of stuff, it's all crammed into the boot and back seat of her station wagon. When we've finished unloading the car, she disappears into the bedroom to organize her things and I head out to get more wood from the shed.

Lydia seems to like the fire going and while I usually let it die out during the day, I figure I'll keep it burning so she's happy. Can't be easy being lugged around, moving houses and cramming into little bedrooms after having her own for so long.

I don't blame Gabs for what she's doing, it just sucks that there's a little girl in the middle of it all. Whatever I can do to make her feel at home, I'll do it.

I'm loading up the basket, my gloves getting splinters in them and bugs scattering out from under the wood when I move it. There's a little crunch behind me and I turn around to find Lydia in her coat and beanie, gum boots on her little feet.

"What's up, kid?"

"You said I could help with this."

"I'm not doing kindling right now. The fire is going so I'm just grabbing some logs."

"I'll carry some," she squeezes in beside me, the shed is narrow and the wood is stacked to the ceiling.

"Okay but I have a rule to share, kid," I look at her little frame and then the stack of wood that's well packed but I still wouldn't trust it. "You can't ever come out here on your own, got it?"

There's a log in the pile, it's not supporting the rest of the stack, and I watch her assess that before she picks it up. Smart kid. "Yeah, I won't."

"This wood could topple," I say, the visual making my stomach bottom out. Fucking hell, I'm getting a lock for the wood shed too. Not because I don't trust her. But she's a kid. Kids are curious. "If this wood toppled. Squash. You're done for."

She giggles and cradles the log in her arms. There's no chance she's getting more than one inside at a time. Still, I like her effort. 

"Okay, I won't come out here unless you do," she says pointedly, standing outside again. She gives me a solid nod of understanding and I smile.

"You're pretty strong," I gesture at her arms, wrapped tight around the log that's almost as big as her entire torso.

I close the wood shed door and pick up the basket I'd filled. It's a descent size, not light by any means but I laugh when Lydia gasps and does a little skip of excitement.

"You're strong, Nathan!"

"Thanks, Kid."

"I thought, no he can't picked up the whole basket!" She says, her voice exaggerating each word, she sounds like I've just performed a miracle. Kids fucking crack me up.

We go through the back door, the laundry, hall, and into the living room. Lydia focuses hard when I tell her we've got to stack the logs up against the wall, she hands me each one, tongue between her lips and thoroughly enjoys the little pyramid I make between the sofa and the fire place.

"I have to go poop," she tells me suddenly and runs off.

I'm still laughing to myself when Gabby comes out of the hall, a long sleeve with a low cut neckline on, her sweat pants are a forest green. It doesn't seem to matter how casual she dresses, she's ridiculously beautiful.

"You better be careful with what you teach her," she tells me, a little grin on her mouth. "Once she learns how to do something, she takes over."

"Sounds ideal to me," I pick up the basket handle, intending to take it back to the wood shed. Gabby's thoughtful gaze stops me. "You alright?"

"I appreciate you being so nice to her."

"Why the fuck wouldn't I be nice to her?"

She blanks, shrugging her shoulders. "I didn't think you'd be mean, I just. . . I'm sure it's not easy giving up your solo living. Having a kid around is a big change. She can be a handful too. So I just appreciate it."

"I knew what I was getting into," I walk around her, not giving quite enough space because our arms brush and I exhale the tension that seems to fucking crush me whenever I'm close to her. I feel like a damn teenage boy with hormonal issues.

I'm as bad as, Mitch.

When I walk back into the living room, Gabby is on her phone in front of the fire. It's weird seeing another woman make herself at home here. Weird but not wrong.

Lydia comes out of the bathroom as I'm heading into the kitchen to scout something out for dinner. She follows me and spins in circles. Can't see the reason for it. She just starts spinning around on the linoleum.

"Requests for dinner?" I ask, opening the fridge.

"Sushi!"

I look at her, my gaze darting to Gabby for a moment who is smiling. "Sushi?"

Lydia stops spinning and her eye balls go haywire while she topples around and holds onto the bench top. "I love sushi."

"You don't have to worry about our dinner," Gabby walks over to the kitchen and leans a hip on the breakfast bar. "Just eat whatever you normally would. We can sort ourselves out."

"So we're going to cook two different meals in the same kitchen?"

"I guess."

I glare at her. "What's the point in that? We gonna make a shift schedule too? You can cook dinner at five and I'll cook at seven? That sounds stupid."

Gabby sighs, loud and exacerbated. "I don't know, Nathan but I'm not buying dinner every night and you can't worry about our meals. It's not your problem."

Lydia, no longer wobbling around, looks between us and I check my temper even though her mother frustrates the hell out of me sometimes and I want to tell her as much.

"How about night on, night off," I suggest. "We take turns cooking and if one of us plans on being out, we'll let the other person know."

She watches me for a minute, thinking. "That could work," she finally says.

"Sushi tonight though," Lydia says. We both look at her smiling expectant face and I know she'll get what she wants. No way in hell I'm going to crush her little spirit.