“Sorry I’m late,” she said, her breath even as she approached.
“No problem. I have an hour.”
Less than that, actually, if he wanted to get to class before it started. At least according to what he’d told her.
Not that it was her business.
Nor were those big brown eyes or the ease with which he held his body. The man was...all man.
And she wasn’t one who generally noticed. Or cared. Except in the most superficial sense.
She would walk away from this meeting and have nothing more to do with him, except as it pertained to his being Abraham’s father. The little guy had been on her mind all week. She couldn’t shake him. Which meant that she had a job to do.
“We can walk toward your class if you’d like,” she said, and without a word, he fell into place beside her. Not too close. But closer than he might have if they hadn’t been on a busy campus sidewalk thronging with students heading to and from classes.
“Bonnie tells me this is your first year at Montford,” she started. She had to get a feel for him if she was going to help him. Her job extended to family support as well as client support. Children needed healthy families.
“That’s right.”
He didn’t sound defensive so she continued. “What are you studying?”
“Premed. I’d like to be a doctor.”
“So you’d transfer after you get your undergraduate degree?”
He shrugged, his satchel riding against his denim-clad hip with ease. “I’ve looked at University of Arizona’s medical school in Tucson, but that’s a long way off. My first consideration is Abraham. He’ll be almost six by the time I graduate. I’m not going to uproot him if he’s settled in. I can always go to medical school when he graduates from high school.”
“So why major in premed?”
He turned, and she had no explanation for what his brown-eyed gaze did to her. “How much do you know about my situation?”
“Not much.” Lillie almost missed a step. Something else she didn’t usually do. “I just know that you’re raising Abraham by yourself. And that your son obviously means a lot to you.”
Jutting his chin, he nodded, his gaze turned in front of them again. His hands in his pockets, he continued to head across campus with the ease of a man who knew where he was going.
“I know that you work at the cactus jelly plant,” she added, wanting to be completely up front with him. The files of the children enrolled at Little Spirits contained the names of their parents’ employers. “And I know that you live in an apartment not far from my house,” she added. The complex was less than a mile from the home she’d purchased the previous year.
“That’s more than I know about you.”
“You’re right, it is. And that can change,” she told him. Her current life was an open book. “I admire what you’re trying to do,” she told him.
Was that why she couldn’t get the two Swartz men off her mind? Why thoughts of little Abe—and his dad—continued to pop up throughout her day?
She hardly knew them.
And here she was pushing services that he clearly didn’t want. Like she needed the work. Which she didn’t.
Another direct glance from him, and she reminded herself to put herself in his shoes, to seek to understand, to listen and find out what he needed so she would know if there was anything she could do. She was not only well trained, she was experienced.
And she knew she could help make his job easier. If he’d let her.
“What exactly is it that you think I’m trying to do?” he asked.
Students jostled against them on both sides, snippets of their conversations filling the air around them. The sun was uncharacteristically absent overhead. Lillie was aware of her surroundings—and not really. The man beside her was an enigma.
“Raising your son, getting a degree and working. It’s admirable.”
“It’s life,” he said. “I fathered a child. I was offered a scholarship—a chance to better myself—and I have to work to buy diapers.”