Chapter 9

Nine

H enry

It makes me happy to see Jane relaxing on the sofa with a full belly while I play building blocks with Sarah on the floor.

I know she’s going to kick me out at any minute—I must reek like stale sweat and earth—and I’m dreading it. I don’t know what it is, but the thought of going back to my empty house without her—without both her and Sarah—hurts.

During a commercial break on Disney Junior, Jane says, “You don’t have to stay. I mean, if you have things to do for the pumpkin patch.”

I turn and smile at her. “I don’t have anything to do that we can’t do together tomorrow. Besides, I’m gonna need your help shopping for all those supplies you’re making me get. I don’t have a friggin’ clue about garden benches and shit. Oh, excuse me.”

To my relief, she laughs it off. “Believe me, Sarah has heard much worse coming from me.”

To my extra relief, she doesn’t push me to leave. Everything about her and Sarah’s company makes me feel good. Maybe it’s the cooler temperatures tonight and the evening breeze drifting in through the open windows making me feel nostalgic and sentimental, but even this tiny apartment feels homey with her in it.

I would very much like to have that feeling in my own house. As soon as possible.

“So, Saturday is opening day. I know you’re working, but I’d love for you to bring Sarah along. We can both keep an eye on her. I don’t expect there to be a huge amount of traffic since this is the first year we’ll be open. I mean, the first year I’ll be open… I mean the business will be open. And then I’d love to celebrate my first day in business—our first day—by having the two of you, and Rocket and Jet, over for dinner that night up at the house. I’m not the worst cook.”

Jane sits up and eyes me skeptically. “You don’t know what you’re asking by offering to let me bring Sarah to work. Rocket has already signed up to look after her for as long as it takes for me to find childcare.”

I shrug and turn back to Sarah, whose eyelids are starting to droop. Jane sees it too and slides down off the sofa to position her legs around Sarah’s little body to keep her from falling on her face.

“You wore her out. You make a good playdate,” she says.

“So what do you say to dinner Saturday night?”

“I say if you cook as good as you know how to order food, then I’d love you.”

“Oh, OK,” I say. “A little sudden but…”

Poor Jane blanches when she realizes what she said. “Oh my god, no. I meant I always love to eat.”

“Relax, I knew it was a slip of the tongue.”

At the mention of the word “tongue,” I can’t miss her eyes falling to my mouth. Then mine fall to hers.

“Well,” she says after a long pause. “I’m going to put Sarah to bed. If you need to go home, that’s cool.”

I’m done with letting her play it cool. If I don’t say something, my heart will burst out of my chest and I’ll die. “I can’t do this anymore,” I say.

Her eyes widen and her body appears to stiffen as she takes Sarah into her arms. “Can’t do what?”

I feel like it’s appropriate that I’m sitting on the floor while she’s standing close and looking down at me, because I’m putting it all out there right now. Practically begging. “I can’t play it cool anymore. I like you. I don’t care what that means for me being your boss, your friend. Whatever. I like you, and I can’t dance around it anymore. I’m going to make you mine.

“Now, while you go put Sarah to bed, I’m going to get my tools out of my truck and fix your car properly. It’s not a permanent fix, but it’ll add a few more months onto its life.”

Jane is the picture of a radiant earth mama, rocking back and forth with Sarah resting her head against her shoulder. A beat passes. I wait for her to protest. To tell me to go on home. To explain once again that we should be friends first and see where it leads. How she won’t take money from me to do her job.

But she doesn’t say anything. She just stands there silently, blinking at me.

Finally, once Sarah has drifted off to sleep, Jane smiles at me.

“OK,” is all she says.