She’d been holding things in for a while, and I knew I wasn’t some kid whisperer. I was, instead, simply in the right place at the right time to give her a gentle push in the right direction. When Emery came up to the driver’s side door, I shook my head so he wouldn’t knock on the window. He leaned close, saw April in my arms as I rocked her, then nodded and walked back toward the entrance of the Kitchen Sink.
After long minutes, she finally lifted her head and looked at me.
Pulling Kleenex from the console between the seats, figuring, as a dad that Emery’s car was well stocked, I got two, and put them to her nose so she could blow. The kid was not delicate at all. She blew a ton of mucus into the tissue, so much so that I had to get two more until she was done.
“Dude, you just blew a snot ball outta your nose,” I said, laughing softly. “Holy crap, warn a guy next time, all right? That was disgusting.”
She laughed then through fresh tears.
“We should go in and talk to your dad so then, if he gives us permission, we can talk to my buddy later this afternoon.”
“Okay,” she said nasally, all stuffed up.
“When we get inside, I’ll walk you to the bathroom and you can splash cold water on your face, all right?”
“People will still know I was crying.”
“You can borrow my sunglasses, and then nobody’ll know. I always leave mine on whenever I’m hungover.”
“What’s hungover?”
“I’ll tell you later,” I promised, catching the irony in my response to her, rubbing my eyes as they watered. They felt like they were full of sand, a sure indication I needed more sleep. Resting in motels was hardly ever actually restful.
Inside, there was a line already, but we bypassed it, and I walked her to the bathroom and waited outside, thinking how great more coffee would be. Everything smelled good, and I didn’t normally go in for breakfast.
“Excuse me.”
Looking up, I squinted at the woman standing in front of me in a Green Bay Packers sweatshirt, gray leggings, and worn Nikes.
“I’m Denise Richmond,” she said gently, holding out her hand. “I was at the soccer game.”
I took her hand and forced a smile. “I’m sorry about that, but that guy was—”
“No,” she said briskly, covering our joined hands with her other. “You misunderstand. Mr. Barr is a menace, and all of us cringe whenever we have to play that team because we never know how combative he’s going to get. A year ago he came at my ex-husband after one of the games, so I was very appreciative of the way you stepped in to protect Emery today.”
I was relieved and gave her a real smile as I withdrew my hand. “It was no big deal.”
“Oh, believe me, it was; we all agree.”
“We?”
She turned and waved at a table near the back, and four other women there lifted their hands and waved back.
“Got it,” I said, chuckling as I returned the gesture.
“What’s your name?” she asked me.
“Brann Calder. I’m Emery’s nanny,” I said, giving up on being anything else for the immediate future. “At least until he and Lydia Cahill get married.”
She grunted, and all the happiness drained from her face. “Like that’s good for anyone besides her father.”
Well now, tell me what you really think?
“Anyway,” she said, seemingly brushing her concern aside. “We hope to see you next Saturday as well. I think the game’s a little later, so we all don’t have to be up quite so early.”
She added how good it was to meet me just as April came out of the bathroom. I thanked Denise before squatting down in front of the little girl.
“How ya feeling?”
She shrugged.
I pulled my sunglasses from the case I’d been carrying in the breast pocket of my leather jacket and put them on her.
“Can you see my eyes?” she asked from underneath my aviators.
“Nope.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I muttered. “Now, can we eat before I starve to death?”
She smiled at me, took my hand, and led me back toward the front. Halfway there, Olivia slipped around in front of me.
“The table is on the other side,” she said cheerfully, grabbing hold of my free right hand and tugging.
I reached the table with a little girl on each side, and before I could pull out a chair, Olivia told me where to sit. Emery offered April one close to him, but she sat down beside me instead, and once in her chair, whispered for me to scooch her over.
Sliding her closer to me, I yawned, and then I picked up the menu to check my choices.
Olivia leaned into my side and pointed things out that I should have.
“Sweetie,” Emery said, “maybe give Brann a second to look for himself.”