“A birth certificate will do me,” he said easily. “If Malcolm’s name’s on it, she’s ours.”
“Fair enough.” She was quiet for a moment before continuing. “But it seems irresponsible to just take someone in off the street.”
“I don’t think she’s been on the streets for too long, she doesn’t seem hardened enough. Which is all the more reason for us to take her in. She wouldn’t last much longer out there. She’s been lucky so far.” The thought of everything that could have happened to her on the streets sent a cold shudder down his spine.
“I just don’t want anyone to take advantage of you and Mason,” Daff explained. “You guys are wealthy and people know that. And they find ways to exploit generosity and kindness.”
“If that’s her plan, she’ll soon find it’s a crappy one, since it means having to go to school and then college and then working her ass off to pay part of her own tuition, because she needs to understand the value of hard work.”
She giggled, and he looked at her, surprised by the sound.
“You sound like a dad.”
He replayed the words in his head. The thought kind of pleased him. Maybe there was hope for him yet.
“Do I? I have no clue what a real dad sounds like,” he said with a perplexed shrug. The movement brought attention to the fact that her hand was in his again. It was starting to feel like it belonged there, and he tried to veer his thoughts off that dangerous path. He couldn’t think of Daff in those terms.
Friends didn’t hold hands, and if they kept touching like this, he’d lose sight of the true nature of his and Daff’s confusing relationship. He subtly moved his hand out of her hold and folded his arms over his chest while he continued to watch the touching tableau of developing kinship in front of him.
She didn’t say anything, just pushed her hands in her coat pockets.
“Come on in, everybody,” Mrs. McGregor invited them. “I have no idea why we’re all on the porch, it’s freezing out here. Let’s get in out of the cold.” She dropped an arm around Charlie’s shoulders, not acknowledging the girl’s tension. “Would you like some hot chocolate, sweetheart?”
“I’ve got to get going,” Spencer muttered as the larger group splintered and headed into the house.
“Well, you can’t. Your ride’s just gone inside for some of my mom’s awesome hot chocolate. Guess you’re stuck with us for a little while longer.”
This time Daff tucked a hand into the crook of his elbow and tugged him toward the house. He allowed her to pull him into the large, warm kitchen, where everyone had congregated. Mrs. McGregor was in her element, bustling around, making sure everyone had a cup of something. She beamed when she caught sight of Spencer.
“Hello, Spencer, would you like a cup of hot chocolate as well? Tea? Or something stronger?”
“The chocolate’s fine, ma’am,” he murmured and then remembered his manners. “Please. Thank you.”
“Please, call me Millicent,” she invited him, and he was appalled by that idea. It seemed disrespectful to just call her by her first name. He cleared his throat and threw her an awkward smile and a short nod.
His eyes drifted to the girl sitting at the kitchen table; she had her head down and looked completely overwhelmed. The mug of chocolate sat untouched on the table in front of her.
“She should go to bed.” The words sounded harsh and way too loud, dropping into one of those odd silences that sometimes fell over a group of people. The girl’s beautiful green eyes—so striking against her light-brown skin—lifted and met his. They were seething with anger and resentment. She probably thought he was trying to tell her what to do again. But he knew how terrifying this all had to be for her and thought she might need a little space and some privacy to process everything that was happening.
Everybody else was staring at him, too, and he flushed, uncomfortable with the unwanted attention.
“Of course, this is all new and a little scary, I’m sure,” Mrs. McGregor said and then smiled at Charlie. “Why don’t I show you to your room? If you don’t mind, I’d like to give your clothes a wash, but you can wear some of Daff’s and Lia’s stuff in the meantime. I’m sure you’d love a hot shower or bath, wouldn’t you? Just to get the cold out of your bones.”
She led the girl out, chatting amiably all the way. Charlie looked over her shoulder as they left, her eyes seeking and finding Spencer’s. Even though she seemed to resent him, he was familiar, and sometimes the devil you knew was a lot less intimidating than the one you didn’t. A huge part of him wanted to drag her to his home and take care of her there. But he wasn’t equipped to care for a young girl. Not yet. He would make sure there was a room ready for her in no time. She was his family, and it was only right he be the one to take care of her.