“You know what? Come on in,” I tell her and step to the side. “Do you need anything from me?”
“No. I will take a quick look around to see what I need. Then I’ll go out to our van and grab some supplies. You won’t even know I’m here.” She digs into the front pocket of her shirt and pulls out a business card. She hands it to me. “This is our contact information. If you have any problems at all, feel free to call anytime.”
“Thank you.”
“Absolutely. Now go enjoy your day and let me take care of the house.”
This is wild.
I head into the kitchen and throw the dinner ingredients back in the fridge. Then I pick up Rosie and my telephone.
“Snack?” Rosie asks.
“I can't give you a snack when you're covered in paint,” I tell her as we head to the bathroom. “You'll be eating paint.”
She wiggles her finger at me. “We don't eat paint.”
“Nope, we don't.” I flip the light on and stand her up in the bathtub. I strip her clothes off and toss them into the sink so paint globs don’t get anywhere else. I plug the bathtub and turn on the water to a nice warm temperature.
She immediately starts splashing around. I grab my phone and find Boone’s number.
Me: You hired a cleaning lady?
Boone: I don't like vacuuming.
Me: I told you that I would clean up. This was how I was paying you back, remember?
Boone: Really? I don't remember that at all.
I grin.
I look down the hallway to see Christina entering the kitchen. Dishwater begins to run, and as much as I hate to admit it, I'm kind of glad I don't have to do it.
Me: You have no boundaries.
Boone: Trust me. I'm showing more restraint than I even knew that I had.
A shiver runs down my spine. I close my eyes and try to wipe the picture of Boone with restraints hovering over me in bed. It doesn't mesh well with the sounds of a child splashing in a bathtub behind me.
Me: I’m worried about Janey.
Boone: I love that you’re worried about her.
Me: You didn’t answer my question.
Boone: If Janey wants to come back to work, she can. I can destroy a house fast enough for two cleaning services. I have a feeling that she’s going to have to retire, though.
Me: Is she okay?
Boone: Yes. Just old. Oliver has called me twice in the past thirty seconds so I probably need to make sure that he's just being a dick and nothing is actually wrong. I should be home around five thirty.
Me: I will see you then.
Boone: Can't wait.
I sit on the toilet and turn the water off. Rosie swims around the bathtub like a little duck. The paint from her body dissolves in the water, making it look like a swirling watercolor itself.
The joy in her face warms my heart.
Suddenly, she sits up and looks at me.
“Jaxi? Can I see my mommy?” she asks.
My warm heart breaks. “She went to see Piper, remember?”
Her face falls. “That's right.”
“I'm sure she misses you. She loved you very, very much.”
“I love Mommy, too.” She stills, her hands pausing in the water and the ripples that were moving across the surface stop. “Jaxi?”
“What baby?”
“I'm happy that she was my mommy, even if I can't see her anymore. She read the best bedtime stories.” The light comes back on in her face. “Just a little better than you, though. Not too much.”
She goes back to splashing around again, and I sit back amazed.
If only I were that resilient, I'd be a little less scared for myself.
In some senses, I’m surprised that I seem to know what to do with Rosie. God knows that my mother never sat with me while I finger painted or read to me. She didn’t play with me or sing to me.
But Nettie did. Nettie had been my safety net.
It’s as though she prepared me for Rosie somehow.
Or am I just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Even though I don’t want it to, I’ve lived enough to know that it’s going to happen.
It always does.
Seventeen
Boone
“Found you!”
Rosie shrieks as I yank back the curtain. Her hands cup her face as she giggles, somehow surprised that I found her.
“Again!” She bounces on the balls of her feet, causing her pale pink nightgown to swish around her knees. The fabric near her neck is damp from her hair after her bath. “Let’s do it again, Boone. I hide again.”
“You always get to hide.”
“I know. I like to hide.”
I pout. “I like to hide too.”
She moves toward me and wiggles her finger for me to crouch down. So, I do.
Her hands cup my cheeks as she looks me in the eye.
“You can’t always hide. You have to share,” she whispers.