Chapter 23

Liv

I’m kind of weirded out by how not weird things feel.

I mean, we crossed a big line, right? This should be awkward. Or, just wrong. But instead we’re sitting across from each other at the breakfast table, with Katie babbling between us, and it’s normal. Me. Chase. Katie. A meal.

My body’s still buzzing like crazy, because Chase made me come in about thirty seconds. I can’t even make myself come in thirty seconds. But he did this thing with his tongue that I can’t even explain, and—

Just thinking about it makes me hot all over.

Chase stands and clears his plate. As he does, his cell rings on the counter, “Ode to Joy.”

“Oh, hi, Em.” He paces while he listens. “Um, I can’t. Not today. I’ll be at work. Unless—?” His eyes meet mine. “Hang on a sec.” His arm, phone in hand, drops to his side. “I have a favor to ask.”

“Shoot.”

“Emily, Katie’s other grandma, has an old friend visiting her from the East Coast, and she was wondering if I could drive Katie down, or at least halfway, so they could have lunch with her. Halfway would be an hour’s drive; all the way would be close to two each direction. You could do some shopping or something while you wait for Katie to be done. I know it’s a lot to ask—”

“It’s fine,” I say, meaning it.

Gratitude shines in his eyes. I like being able to make Chase’s life easier, which is a funny thing, because so much of our friendship has been about giving each other a hard time.

Chase brings the phone back to his ear. “My friend Liv, who’s filling in as Katie’s nanny right now, can bring her.” They talk back and forth for a minute or two about locations and logistics. Then he hangs up and lets me know where I’m heading with Katie, and when.

“You’re going to have lunch with Grandma,” he tells Katie, and she claps her hands in delight.

After Chase has gone, I shower, then get Katie all ready for lunch. It’s nothing fancy, some pizza place between here and Olympia that Chase and Emily agreed would be a good meeting spot, but I get her dressed up anyway so her grandmother can show her off. Then we play a few games of Hisss and Slamwich and get in the car.

Katie is dozy in the car on the way down, so I sing along to the radio. And—because I can’t help myself—I relive moments of last night. It was so good. I want more.

Emily and her friend are waiting for us when we come in the front door of the pizza place, two older women in grandma jeans and T-shirts. Katie runs to the taller of the two and throws her arms around the woman’s legs. Emily bends down and hugs Katie from above. She has curly gray hair and is older than I was expecting, seventy at least, brittle and skinny as a spider monkey.

She introduces Katie to her friend Grace and then thanks me, formally, for driving Katie down to lunch with them. She still hasn’t introduced me to Grace. I’m familiar with the particular snub from nannying other times—people see you as not quite family, not quite a friend, just someone who moves the kid around for pay. And of course, that’s exactly who I am in this situation.

The thing is, it would be totally different if I explained that I was Chase’s friend first, and Katie’s nanny only temporarily, as a favor.

And totally different, still, if I were Chase’s girlfriend.

But I’m not.

I squat to check in with Katie. “You okay with staying here with your grandma and her friend while I do a little shopping? And I’ll come back for you in an hour and a half?”

“Yeah!” says Katie.

I leave them alone and head to the mall for some window shopping—I don’t want to spend any money—and a quick lunch. Then I pick Katie up. Emily and her friend meet me in front of the pizza place. Katie is beaming. And bouncing.

“I had woot beer!” she tells me.

“Woot!” I say.

“And chocolate cake!”

“Woot, woot!”

Katie wrinkles her nose in confusion.

“I’m sorry to sugar her up and hand her back,” Emily says, making eye contact with me for the first time.

“It’s okay,” I say, shrugging. “I get to strap her into the car. By the time we get home, the sugar rush will have worn off.”

Emily smiles at that. Her face is creased and brown like a walnut, the skin of someone who’s spent a lot of time in the sun. Her lips are thin, but not harsh. From the strength of the bones in her face, and from how pretty Katie already is, I can guess that Thea was gorgeous.

“Katie says you’re her daddy’s friend.”

There’s a heavy emphasis on the word friend. My face colors. Emily shoots her visitor a glance, as if my blush confirms something they both suspected. “How long have you and Chase been together?”

“We’re not—” I stop. “It’s not like that. We really are friends, just friends.”

It’s the truth. And a lie.

“I should have guessed,” Emily says thoughtfully. “Chase doesn’t have relationships, does he?”

I shake my head. And for some reason, what pops into my head is Chase sitting on the side of my bed this morning, telling me I was beautiful with my hair a rat’s nest and my makeup a raccoon’s mask.

I felt beautiful.

“I keep hoping he will. I know it’s a strange thing for me to say, but I’ve always felt like Thea wasn’t very fair to him, and maybe that’s why he’s so wary.”

Emily’s friend says, “Emily, hon’—”

“Grace, I love—loved her, but it doesn’t mean I approved of everything she did.”

What I want to do, desperately, is ask her what she means. About Thea not being fair to Chase. But what I say instead—because it’s the only thing you can say to a mother who lost her daughter two months ago and still hasn’t settled into the past tense—is, “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you, dear.”

Grace puts a hand gently on Emily’s arm. “We should get going.”

“Yes.” She turns to me, her eyes warm. “Thank you so much for bringing Katie. And I hope I’ll see you next time I get together with Katie and Chase?”

I’ll be in Denver, I think, but all I say is, “I hope so, too.”