Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

NOVA

When Desi had told me to bring a side or a dessert to her house for dinner, I’d gone into panic mode. What did people bring to group dinners in Texas? What would go with the main dish? What was unlikely to be a repeat? At home, my friends would at least tell me what the main entree was so I could make sure I’d chosen something that went with it.

I’d settled on berry crumble bars. Dessert doesn’t have to match a theme. Then, because I was worried my kids wouldn’t have anything to eat, I also made macaroni and cheese in a small crockpot.

Ben asked to carry the plate of treats when we arrived, so I handed it to him and followed him up the walkway to a large white house with blue shutters. Alice shuffled behind me.

Ben knocked on the door. I balanced the slow cooker on my hip and reached around my leg for Alice’s hand, giving it a little squeeze.

“Welcome!” Desi said, flashing a bright smile when she opened the door. “Come on in. You can put those in the kitchen,” she said to Ben, then looked at the crockpot in my hands. It was old and a little worn. Carter and I had gotten it for our wedding and it was one of the things I’d packed in the car when we left. I used it constantly and Carter probably didn’t even know how it worked.

There wasn’t much room on the counter, so I had to shuffle a few things over. I set the crockpot in the opening I’d made and stirred the mac and cheese. Alice took my other hand and held on tight. She’d left her pink monkey in the car, which meant her hands probably felt empty.

“That looks great,” Desi said. She eyed Alice. “The kids are playing in the backyard.”

Alice didn’t let go of my hand. I’d have to walk her out there, which was fine. Her shyness ran on a sliding scale, with varying degrees of depth that had to do with who we were around, how long we’d known them, and how familiar the location was. A new place with new people and one new friend from school meant she was likely to hover at my side for most of the night.

This wasn’t like seeing Kendall on the school playground—a familiar place with no one else around. I spied Kendall through the back window, running around the exterior of a large blow-up jump house with a group of girls.

“Is it someone’s birthday?” I asked.

“No.” Desi waved the question away. “Just a little dinner for Travis and his work friends. We do this from time to time.”

With jump houses and a spread fit to feed half the town? She and I had very different ideas of what a little dinner entailed. Gigi had filled me in on some of the townspeople last week, and she’d told me Desi didn’t work outside the home. It was obvious she’d made a career out of showing up for people, though—the school, her daughter, her husband, his work friends. And now me. I couldn’t help but be grateful for her kindness to us, even if I was feeling ten levels of uncomfortable.

“Drinks are in the coolers out back,” she said.

“Thanks.” Ben had already spotted the bounce house and went in the backyard, so I pulled Alice along with me. “Let’s find your friends.”

My phone buzzed with a message from Blair, telling me to call her later with an update. I liked her message and shoved my phone into my pocket, assessing the current social war Alice and I were waging. We stood on the edge of the back porch, just out of the shade and in the sun’s warming rays. The group of girls ran by us but didn’t stop or seem to notice Alice. Sometimes it was hard not to try and influence my daughter in these social situations—the girl was so painfully shy it was difficult to stand by and throw her to the wolves. But I wasn’t at school with her. She needed to learn how to manage these things herself.

Her little fingers tightened on mine and her feet remained unmoving. Where was the elated girl who ran across the school field when she saw Kendall the other day? I could help her wade out, surely.

“You want to join Ben in the bounce house?” I asked.

She shook her head.

“Kendall is over there.” I pointed.

Alice said nothing.

I wanted to physically pry her away from me and toss her toward other kids, to watch her happily run away with them to play. But that wasn’t my girl. That was Ben—no tossing required. Inhaling, I lowered myself to her level, peering into her wary blue eyes. “Should I walk you over to them? It looks like they’re about to climb into that tree house.”

Alice chewed on her lip. “I want to go home.”

My stomach constricted. New York home, or our apartment on the other side of town home? It took her so long to warm up to people, but she’d had years to grow used to her New York friends. “You were so excited to see Kendall.”

She lowered her voice. “Penny is here, Mom. She’s not nice.”

My body froze while my brain sped up, flashing through bits of conversations and moments with Alice, trying to figure out if I’d heard of this girl before. I came up empty, but a warning bell flashed in my head. “What do you mean?”

Alice closed down. “Can we go home?”

She meant our Texas apartment, at least. That was something of a relief.

The back door swung open behind us, chatter snaking outside.

I straightened reluctantly and tugged her down the steps. “Let’s see if we can find Ben in the bounce house. We can make faces at him through those mesh windows.”

We did that, standing outside the bounce house for what felt like ages. I held Alice’s hand, and we waved at Ben doing somersaults and high jumps inside. He could meld with any group of kids. He’d always been good at that.

I couldn’t wait anymore. I crouched to Alice’s level and tucked a loose lock of blonde hair behind her ear. “What did Penny say that made you think she isn’t nice?”

Alice’s wide blue eyes met mine. “She’s Kendall’s BFF. You can’t have two BFFs, Mom.”

“Why not? Don’t we try to collect friends?”

“A BFF isn’t just a friend,” she said with gravity. “It’s a best friend.”

“Well, maybe she needs a reminder that Kendall can be both her friend and yours. Should we go try?—”

“Dinner is served!” Travis Partridge called from the porch. Even off duty, in a gray T-shirt and jeans, he looked like a police officer.

I glanced down at Alice. “We’ll talk about this later?”

She frowned.

“Let’s go eat,” I finally said.

We went inside where people were dishing up plates and chatting with each other, the smell of smoked chicken and grilled vegetables wafting through the kitchen. People milled about, the essence of this party both familiar and wildly foreign. The presence of a police family was so comfortable and recognizable, this group made me feel like I fit in even if they were all strangers. The door blew open behind us and Kendall barged in with a group of girls. She noticed Alice. I found myself holding my breath, hoping on repeat she would invite my baby to eat with her.

“Alice!” she said, her face lighting up. “You’re here!”

Alice said nothing. I nudged her in the back. “Do you want to go eat with Kendall and the other girls?”

Kendall didn’t give her a chance to refuse. She took her hand. “Come on! My mom put cupcakes in the back. Let’s get some before they’re gone.”

Alice looked at me over her shoulder, wide-eyed and nervous. She could eat cupcakes for lunch for all I cared. Carter wasn’t here to enforce veggies and I was just glad she was socializing.

Which one of the pesky girls following her was Penny, though?

I smiled encouragingly at Alice until she disappeared around the corner.

“How is everyone settling in?” Chad asked, startling me. I hadn’t seen him approach, my attention was so heavily on my daughter. Ben was in line, holding a paper plate, so I wasn’t worried about him.

“We’re getting there.” I smiled to soften my vague response. He didn’t want the real answer anyway. Most people didn’t. It was just a way to start a conversation. Besides, my nerves were a little frayed. I didn’t want to talk about myself. “Do you work with everyone here?”

“Almost everyone.” He stepped a little closer, lowering his voice. “That one by the corn is our station secretary, and the man talking to her is our captain.” He continued, giving me a rundown of each adult in the room and their position in the police station or who they were related to. I had the sense Chad was leaning closer with each explanation, given how I could smell his aftershave stronger than the chicken.

“Thanks,” I told him, shifting away like I was going to join the line. “Are you going to get a plate?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He followed me.

We loaded up our plates with an assortment of food—smoked chicken and corn and salads and rolls. When we reached the desserts, Chad whistled, picking up one of my berry crumble bars. “These look amazing.”

I didn’t say anything. He’d probably seen Ben carry them in.

Only, he wasn’t here when we arrived, was he?

We took our plates outside so I could watch the kids—mostly Alice—and sat on wicker chairs on the back porch. Chad told me about growing up in Arcadia Creek and how he and Travis had gone to high school together. He asked questions about me and New York, but I tried to be brief in my responses and turn the conversation back to him. To Chad’s credit, it sounded like he wanted to get to know us and not like he was vetting me for a date, or I wouldn’t have stuck around. The moment things seemed more romantically-minded, I was out.

He finished off his berry crumble bar and moaned. “I need another one of those. Want me to grab you one?” he offered. His blue eyes searched mine, and I looked away.

“No. I had one earlier, thanks.”

He took my empty plate and walked back inside, probably to throw it away, and returned shortly with a napkin and two more bars. Both were for him.

“A bird in there told me you made these.”

I glanced at him, but he seemed amused more than anything. “Guilty,” I said.

“I guess that’s why Gigi has you in the kitchen, huh? You must be a great cook.”

“Mostly just the skills most moms have, but I get by. Dal is a major help. ”

“Dal has been cooking in that kitchen my entire life.”

“So I’ve heard.”

He took another bite and leaned back a little, appraising me. “Hey, what are you doing on the nineteenth?”

“Probably working.”

“It’s a Saturday. Do you work weekends?”

I glanced at the tree house, where Alice was sitting inside with the other girls. I couldn’t see her, but I hoped things were going well. “I’m not sure. Sometimes I help at the diner, but when the kids are home from school I try to be with them.”

“You can bring them,” Chad said.

There was a slow coiling of unease through me. I held his blue eyes, thinking again how he resembled Carter in some ways. Not just physically, but something about his mannerisms made me think of my ex. That wasn’t a point in his favor, to say nothing of the way I was still emotionally reeling from the recent changes in my life. “Listen, I was recently divorced and then dragged my kids halfway across the country. I’m not in a position to think about anything but them for a while.”

He looked confused, but then his face cleared. “I’m not asking you out, Nova.”

My cheeks warmed. “Then what are you asking?”

Chad shoved the last bite of his bar into his mouth and chewed. He took his time swallowing and chasing it with a swig of his drink, probably to form how best to put me in my place. “We have a Battle of the Badges coming up. It’s a competition thing, and I need someone on my team to make a killer lunch. We have to make sliders and a strawberry shortcake style dessert, and I was hoping you’d be able to help. I’m in charge, but I’m hopeless at this sort of thing.” He lifted the crinkled, berry-streaked napkin in his hand. “Clearly you’re great at it.”

“I don’t know. My calendar is pretty full.” We’d only just moved here but flag football, the diner, the kids’ schooling, the cookies for Trish back in New York, the management of the kids’ relationship with Carter—there was already a lot on my plate. The thought of adding one more thing made me itchy with pre-imagined hives.

“You don’t need to do much,” he promised. “Just help me plan a winning menu and tell me how to execute it.”

“You don’t have anyone more qualified on your team?”

“No, and I don’t want to lose again.” He gave a self-deprecating smile. “Please?”

He got me with that pleading expression, his blue eyes so hopeful. I could help him plan a menu. That wouldn’t be too hard, would it? “I can’t commit to much, but I can help you figure out what to make.”

“Life saver,” he breathed, grinning. “Mark the nineteenth on your calendar. The whole day should be pretty fun for the kids, so if you don’t have to work, we’d love to have you.”

I didn’t commit to that, but I nodded, sweeping the yard again looking for my kids. The sound of familiar giggling came from the tree house, and it made my shoulders relax.

“Can I give you my number?” Chad asked. “You can text me later to figure out a good time to meet and plan out the menu.”

My hesitation was slight, but it was there, and he seemed to notice. I was grateful he didn’t say anything about it. “Sure.” We exchanged phone numbers, then Desi brought her friend Annie to meet me, a short blonde woman who looked a little younger than me, holding a little baby wrapped in a muslin blanket.

She smiled widely. “My friend told me about you. He said your son joined his football team recently.”

“Oh, yeah, he did. Jake?”

“No, Dusty. He said your son joined with no experience, but picked it up before the first practice was over.” She laughed, the sound friendly and pleasant. “I’d say he must have some Texas blood in him somewhere.”

She was so likable I couldn’t help but return a bit of her smile. “Maybe. He’s trying his best to fit in. ”

She blew a raspberry and started rocking when her baby began to fuss. “We don’t care much about that. I hope he has fun. He’s got great coaches.”

Chad had gone silent, which wasn’t a surprise. There was definitely some weird tension between him and Dusty both the times I’d seen them together.

“Are you planning to put Alice into cheer?” Desi asked.

“Oh. I hadn’t thought about it.” My little quiet girl? I didn’t think she’d enjoy standing in front of a crowd of parents shouting encouragement to the boys, but maybe I was wrong.

“Too late now,” she said, cringing. “You could get her in tumbling so she’s ready for the fall season.”

Goodness, this was a lot to absorb. Who knew if we’d even be here for the entire fall season. And why did a six-year-old need tumbling lessons to throw pom poms around and chant at six-year-old boys? I still needed to talk to my parents about options, but it was difficult to find time to chat with the twelve-hour time zone difference while they were in the Philippines. My skin started to itch, and I worried this conversation was bringing on my friendly companion: hives.

I gave them a bright—probably too bright—smile. “Right now, I think we’re just going to get through the rest of this school year and see how we feel.”

Motto of my life right now. Get through today. Survive today. Squeeze my kids extra tightly when I read them bedtime stories.

Then, tomorrow, do the same thing.