~ Clay

“I think this is it.” I glance at the address on my phone then at the number on the mailbox, stopping right next to it.

Before we started our trip, I asked Christa to take care of our lodging and she did exactly that, booking houses along our route. This is the first – a two-story house with a fenced lawn in a quiet neighborhood where the houses are not so close together. Those last two were my requirements along with the fact that the house had to be fully furnished and ready to be occupied even for just a night. The fact that this house seems less than five years old is a welcome bonus.

Good job, Christa.

If all the houses are like this, I’ll make sure to give her a bonus when I return.

“So, this is where we’re staying?” Andrea asks, leaning over me as she takes a peek out the window.

And to think that earlier, she was back to square one, doing her best to ignore me and even trying to get as far away from me as possible. Thank goodness she managed to relax.

I smile at her. “There’s only one way to find out.”

Killing the engine, I get out of the SUV and walk up to the front door, ringing the doorbell. A man who looks like he’s in his late forties answers and after we verify each other’s identities, he hands me the keys to the house. I toss them to Andrea after I get back in the car.

“Yup, this is home sweet home for tonight,” I tell her.

After the garage door opens, I park the car there, closing the door after the man has left in his old Toyota Corolla. Then I get the still sleeping Rose from the backseat as Andrea goes ahead inside the house, turning on more lights.

Carrying Rose in my arms for the first time, I realize how light she is – less than forty pounds maybe? She doesn’t seem that much heavier than the dumbbells I usually lift at the gym. Is this the normal weight for a girl her age? Then again, she doesn’t seem to have a problem with her appetite. Maybe I just think she’s light because I’ve never carried a child before.

She doesn’t wake, her eyes remaining closed as I carry her all the way upstairs to the room Andrea directs me to – a small, cozy room with pink curtains. As Andrea leaves to explore the rest of the house – she seems to like doing that – I set Rose down on the bed, taking off her shoes and then putting the blanket over her. I take the liberty of brushing the wisps of hair off her face as well, finding myself staring at her for the first time.

And for the first time, I realize just how much she looks like John.

Rose may not have John’s hair or his eyes but she has his slightly upturned nose, his round chin, his wide forehead and his thick eyebrows.

John’s daughter.

Is it kind, I wonder, or cruel that he left me his most important treasure, the most poignant reminder of him?

Suddenly, Rose stirs. Instinctively, I stroke her head, trying to assure her that there’s no reason to wake. It’s already evening, after all, and she must be exhausted after that nearly seven-hour trip.

When she continues to stir, I start singing softly, singing one of those Bon Jovi songs that we sang at the car. Of course, John liked him, too. We always had a similar taste for music.

To my surprise, Rose faces me, cuddling against my thigh.

“Daddy.”

One word and yet, it grips my heart, making it hard for me to keep singing.

I can just imagine how much she misses her father. I didn’t miss mine after he left since he was never really around before that but John was around. He was always around and he was Rose’s best friend, her only friend, her whole world. How do I fill that void? I don’t even know how John was as a father. I know he was a good father but what kinds of things did he do with Rose? What would he tell her? What had he taught her?

What do I do with Rose now that she’s going to be my daughter?

Placing my hand on her head, I let out a sigh. I can only hope that before this trip is over, I can figure it out.

---

“I’ve finally figured out how to turn the heat on,” Andrea announces with a sigh of relief as she shrugs off her jacket, tossing it aside before dropping down on the couch in the living room.

Well, she definitely knows how to do that, I think as I also stare at her – something I haven’t been able to do in the car. Just looking at her in her red shirt and black leggings, her body limp and her eyes closed, makes me want to scoop her in my arms and carry her upstairs, too, but I push the thought away, reminding myself that we’re just friends.

For now.

“That’s good,” I tell her as I sit on a chair, quickly looking away when she opens her eyes. “It feels warmer already.”

“How’s Rose?” she asks, picking up the remote and turning on the TV.

“Still asleep.”

“She must be tired. I know I am, too.” She yawns.

“Why don’t you go to bed early?” I suggest.

“I’m fine.” She flips through the channels. “Although I think I’ll go get that pony in the morning instead.”

“I think that’s better.” I stand up to take off my jacket. “There should be more shops open.”

“Here. Let me get that.” Andrea picks up her own jacket and extends an arm to take mine.

“I can take care of it,” I say.

“It’s fine.” She takes my jacket anyway, hanging it beside hers on the coat rack behind the front door. “By the way, this is a beautiful house.”

“I’m glad you think so, too.”

I go over to the kitchen to get something to drink. That’s something else I asked Christa to do – tell the house owner to stock the fridge with drinks and the pantry with some food. Of course, she complied, the shelves inside the door of the fridge lined with cans of beer and soda.

I grab one can of beer, holding it up. “Want one?”

“No, thanks,” Andrea says.

I close the fridge. “Suit yourself.”

She rests her elbows on the kitchen counter, looking around. “I’m glad we’re staying in a house. I’ve forgotten how nice it feels to live in a house.”

My eyebrows furrow. “Don’t you go home every now and then?”

“Yeah, but I never stay long enough.” She looks at me. “What about you? Do you have your own house or do you stay in an apartment, too?”

“Apartment,” I answer as I open the can.

“Let me guess.” She turns around and rests her chin on her hands. “It’s a penthouse apartment with magnificent views of the city.”

I take a sip of beer. “Bingo.”

“With your own butler?” she asks.

I shake my head as I take another sip. “No butler.”

“So, you live alone?”

I don’t know what she’s trying to find out but I nod. “Alone. I’ve always lived alone.”

I expect her to ask next if I’ve ever brought a woman there to my apartment but she doesn’t, falling silent. A few seconds later, her phone beeps and she goes back to the couch to check it.

“Boyfriend?” I tease as I lean over the counter.

Andrea frowns. “You know I don’t have one or I wouldn’t be here.”

Right. She already told me when we met back at The Bar. That gives me a glimmer of hope but I don’t show it.

“It’s Jo,” she informs me. “You know, that woman who was with me at The Bar.”

I vaguely remember a tall woman with brown hair – or was it black? – who was with Andrea at The Bar.

“She’s my agent, publicist and best friend,” Andrea adds. “Basically, I’d be lost without her.”

“Really? You seemed annoyed with her last time.”

She gives another frown. “Well, she was trying to get me to do something I didn’t want to do.”

“You mean talking to me?”

She doesn’t answer but I already know it. If not for Jo, Andrea would never have talked to me back then.

“I should thank her the next time we see each other,” I add.

Andrea snorts. “If you think the two of you will get along, forget it. She’s already mad that I abandoned her and took off with you.”

I give her a puzzled look. “Is that what she thinks you did?”

Andrea shrugs.

I glance at her phone. “Is she trying to get you to go back?”

“Not exactly. But she does want me to do a few things for her.”

“I thought your tour was finished.”

“Yeah, but apparently, I still have stuff to do.” She puts down her phone with a sighs. “And here, I thought I’d have a break.”

Suddenly, I feel a pang of guilt. Right. She’s supposed to be on vacation. Instead, she’s back on the road.

I sit down on the chair near her. “Are you sure this is okay?”

She looks at me. “Isn’t it a little too late for remorse?”

“I’m not regretting it or anything. I just…I don’t want you to be unhappy. Or tired. I mean you did just finish traveling all over the country.”

“Yeah, but that was for work.” She sits back.

“Isn’t this work, too?”

“Yeah, but this is different. I don’t have to meet a bunch of people or sign heaps of books. I don’t have a tight schedule to keep. Best of all, I don’t have to stay in hotel rooms.”

I smile. “Well, I’m glad to hear that.”

“This is a break for both of us. No, for all of us, even Rose. We’re all taking a much-needed, well-deserved break from life.”

I lift my can. “Cheers to that.”