Chapter 6

Chapter

Six

Saturday morning Ryan sat at the kitchen table in his sweats and T-shirt, his hair still wet from the shower. He stared at the paperwork in front of him. Even though they were entering the last week and a half of school, Amaya's school counsellor had recommended an assessment for ADHD and dyslexia.

He'd already entered in her personal history, and now the cursor hovered over the first box of the questionnaire. Provokes others: frequently, somewhat often, sometimes, never or not at all. How was he supposed to know the difference between "sometimes" and "somewhat often?" Fails to follow instructions. Excessive use of video games or TV. He probably should've chosen a day to fill it out when he hadn't heard her making music videos in her room until one a.m. the night before.

"Dad! Are you ready?" Amaya bounded into the kitchen, her ponytail bouncing. She was already dressed in a pair of bright pink shorts and a tank top, her sandals set by the front door.

If he wasn't with her twenty-four seven, he could've been convinced that his ten-year-old daughter was doing cocaine. "It's barely seven, babe. Bailey's not even awake yet. "

Amaya put a hand on her hip. "You don't know that. I texted her last night and told her I'd be over first thing."

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "We agreed on nine."

Amaya shrugged. "Bailey said I should just come when I woke up."

Ryan grinned "Well, if Bailey said it, then . . ."

"Dad." Amaya rolled her eyes.

Ryan pushed back from the table, setting the forms by his computer. "You're awake. But you still have to eat breakfast and brush your teeth."

"I'm not even hungry."

"Uh-huh." He poked her ribs as she walked past. "And what if I told you we still had time to make pancakes?"

_____

Ryan led Amaya through the sliding doors of Canadian Tire, the oddly comforting scent of rubber hitting them like a wave. The store was a maze of aisles, each one lined with tools, equipment, and gadgets. He pulled out his phone and checked his list, then headed straight for the hardware section.

Amaya trailed behind him, her eyes wide as she took in the shelves of shiny objects. "You said we were going to Bailey's."

"We are." Ryan searched the signs for the aisle he was looking for.

"Then why are we at the store?"

Ryan didn't have a great answer for that. Nor could he explain why he'd spent an hour searching up common issues with garage code pads the night before while listening to Amaya cry out the lyrics to Down, Bad .

He opted to ignore the question and stalked toward the back of the store. When they got to the electrical section, Amaya loitered at the end of the aisle. "Dad, look at this!" She pointed to a display of LED flashlights. "Can we get one? For camping?"

"Like, as a gift for a family that camps?" Ryan reached for a keypad, then a spool of wiring, and dropped them into their basket.

"Dad." She shot him a look. It was so much more fun being a parent when she was old enough to understand how witty he was.

Ryan chuckled. "Put it on your birthday list."

"Camping? Or the flashlight?"

His grin widened. "Damn, girl. Don't do me like that."

Amaya's eyes sparkled as she walked up next to him. "What's that for?" She pointed to the spool of wire in his hands.

Ryan straightened. "Uh . . . for fixing the garage keypad at Bailey's house. Remember? I told you it was broken."

Amaya nodded. "Why can't they just get a new one?"

Ryan smiled. "Because sometimes it's more cost-effective to fix things than to buy new ones. Plus, it's satisfying to solve the problem yourself."

Amaya pursed her lips. "But they aren't solving the problem themselves. You're solving it."

Okay. So it was possible he'd ruined her.

They left the store and drove toward Brentwood. Ryan pulled up to the curb in front of Aelin's house and did everything he could to explain away the flutter of excitement in his chest.

It was nerves. He shouldn't have bought the supplies without asking first. Amaya didn't make friends easily, and he didn't want this playdate to end in a flaming pile of dog crap.

It definitely wasn't that he was still thinking about Aelin standing on the front porch in a towel or replaying the way her cheeks had stained pink as she recited the WiFi password.

Amaya was already halfway to the door by the time Ryan retrieved his supplies from the back seat. He hurried up the path and was climbing the porch steps when Aelin opened the door.

Her hair was swept back into a clip, and she wore soft cotton pants that were cropped at the ankles with an oversized sweater. She looked like she'd just uncurled herself from the couch where she still had a good book and a cup of coffee waiting for her. Relaxed. Well-rested. It was possibly hotter than the towel.

"Thanks for bringing her over." Aelin frowned and peered into the bag. "You brought me . . . electrical wire?" She grinned at her joke, then glanced past him and saw his tool kit sitting on the edge of the porch. "Ummm . . ."

"I thought I could take a look at the garage pad. If you don't already have someone coming to fix it."

Aelin blinked, and she shifted her weight. "You're more than absolved of your unintended crime. If that's what?—"

"No, I don't mind." He glanced down at the bag, suddenly feeling like an idiot.

She worried her teeth over her lower lip. "You don't have anything better to do on a Saturday morning?"

Definitely an idiot. "I'll just . . ." He pointed to the car and turned to go, but Aelin rushed onto the porch.

Her hand brushed his before she snapped it back to her side. "I don't have anyone coming to look at it." She curled her toes on the deck boards. "I just—that's really nice of you to offer. I'm not used to people doing nice things without . . . you know."

A slow heat crept up his neck. "I'm not—I wasn't trying to?—"

"No, I know." She put up a hand. "This is a me problem. It turns out, when you're married to a selfish prick for twelve years, you tend to wear narcissist-coloured glasses."

Ryan nodded, not sure what to say to that. Aelin continued in a rush. "You aren't one. I don't think. I'm pretty good at spotting the signs."

"Good to know."

Her cheeks flushed, and she pulled the sleeves of her sweater into her palms. "So. Do you need me to open the garage?"

Ryan drew a breath and turned to the side of the house. "Not yet. I'll take a look." He took the bag and set it down on the steps next to his toolbox, then flipped the latches to open the lid.

Aelin hovered for a moment. "Do you need anything? Water? Coffee?"

Ryan looked up. "I'm good, thanks. This shouldn't take too long."

"Right. I'll . . . be inside if you need anything." Aelin walked back into the house.

Ryan glanced back over his shoulder just in time to catch her through the side window. She leaned up against the inside of the door and planted her palm to her forehead.

He snorted and dropped his eyes back to the toolbox. At least he wasn't the only one.

_____

At ten forty-five, Ryan snapped the casing open and turned while Aelin punched in her garage code. He wasn't sure if it would work or if she'd have to reset it, but as soon as she hit enter, the pulley ground to life.

Her eyes lit up. "It works! What was wrong with it?"

Ryan picked up one of the sections of wire he'd replaced. "The wires were corroded. Did you have gutter issues on this side of the house?"

Aelin considered the question, then stepped back to look at the roof. "You know what, we did. There was a leak in the garage on this side. Hail damage. But that all got replaced last year."

Ryan threw the wire back in the bag with the rest of his trash. He'd already checked the other outlets, and they all seemed to be working fine.

"I can take that." Aelin reached for the bag, and he let her take it. She passed him on the porch, and he caught the scent of her coconut shampoo.

Aelin pulled the door open. "The girls made lemonade, and I promised I'd bring you in to try some."

Ryan wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm. "Sure, that sounds great." He followed her inside, set his shoes on the mat, and walked to the kitchen.

"Dad!" Amaya looked up from the table, her hands kneading something that looked like jello. "Bailey had all the stuff to make cloud slime. Her mom is making us grilled cheese for lunch."

Aelin took the pitcher of lemonade from the fridge. "I do make a mean grilled cheese."

"They're the best. She uses cheddar, not that gross cheese," Bailey said, launching the girls into chatter about their favourite lunch foods.

Aelin poured him a glass and handed it to him.

"Thanks."

Aelin smiled as she retreated to the business side of the kitchen. "Thank you. " The counter extended past the cabinets to make a desk, and she had a computer sitting there with an organizer and office supplies.

Ryan immediately noticed the note he'd left her. It was stuck to the counter next to the notepads. She hadn't thrown it away.

Ryan's thumb slipped on the glass as he took a drink.

"Is it good?" Amaya watched him for a reaction.

He nodded as the sweet and sour liquid flooded over his tongue. "Excellent." It was too sweet for his taste. He preferred his lemonade to be puckering, but he wasn't going to tell Amaya that.

"Mom, can you get us the activator?" Bailey asked.

Aelin looked over her shoulder, her hands pausing on the keyboard. "I thought it was on the table."

"It is, but my hands are sticky."

Ryan strode to the table. "I can get it. "

Bailey pointed at a clear squeeze bottle, and he passed it to her.

"Sorry, I'm almost done." Aelin's fingers tapped over the keys.

Bailey poured liquid over her and Amaya's individual balls of slime. "She's applying for jobs."

"Oh, yeah?" Ryan took another drink of lemonade. "What kind of jobs?"

Aelin straightened and turned toward the table. "I'm looking at night jobs. With summer coming, I figured I could find something that allowed me to stay home."

"See?" Amaya slapped her hand down on the ball of goo. "You could do that, Dad. Then I wouldn't have to be with a stupid nanny."

"Amaya." Ryan gave her a warning look that said, Just because you're trying to impress your friend doesn't mean you can be a sass.

She shot one back that said, I'm only telling the truth , and his lip twitched.

"You have a nanny lined up for summer?" Aelin asked.

Ryan nodded. "Not a nanny. Childcare. We've been using her for the past couple of years."

Aelin catalogued this. "Do they have openings?"

"Not sure." He motioned for her to pass him a notepad and pen, then wrote the name down for her.

Bailey set down her slime and went to the kitchen sink to wash her hands. Aelin watched her as she slid the notepad to the edge of the counter.

"I'm looking for jobs, Bailes."

Bailey nodded. "I know."

Aelin pursed her lips, then set the pen back in the jar on her desk. "Okay, how about some grilled cheese?"

Ryan suddenly felt like he was intruding. He set his glass in the sink, then glanced at the clock on the stove. 11:05. "I'll go get things back in the car. "

Aelin nodded. "I'll make you a sandwich."

"You don't have to?—"

She shooed him out of the kitchen and opened the fridge door. He walked back down the hall to the entryway. He liked the open floor plan of the house. Light poured in through the windows in the sitting room, filling the space up to the second floor.

He took his toolbox to the car, then got in the driver's seat and pulled out his phone. He hadn't missed much, just a couple of messages on the team chat.

André:

Dusty Rose tonight!

Country:

Jenna and I are out. She's not feeling great.

Brett:

So Jenna's pregnant?

Country:

Still practicing

Sean:

Kelty says I have to go

Ryan laughed, then typed out a text.

I have Amaya this weekend. Next Saturday?

He didn't want to go out, but when Laura and Russ had Amaya, he didn't have a choice. The one time he admitted he'd stayed home and cleaned, Laura had clipped him in the ear. Going out with his team was the least terrible option.

Ryan looked up as Amaya ran out onto the porch, waving his grilled cheese sandwich like a surrender flag.

He set his phone on the console and got out. "Have fun?"

Amaya nodded. Aelin stepped out the front door and cupped her hand around her mouth. "Thank you!"

He waved, got in the car, and took the grilled cheese from Amaya. It was steaming hot, wrapped in a paper towel.

"Dad, can we go to that new trampoline place tomorrow?" She contorted in the seat to press in her seatbelt.

"The one over by Grandma's church?"

Amaya nodded.

"Yeah. I didn't realize you were into that." He pulled up to the stop sign, then turned left and drove past the school.

"I want to go at eleven o'clock."

He glanced over at her, but she was staring straight out the front windshield. "Any reason for that?"

"Eleven is the perfect time. I can sleep in and then have plenty of time to get ready."

He nodded. "Alright then. Eleven it is."