introduce you to my mother and Connor. We’ll see how it goes.”
Seriously? Relief washed over him. “What time?”
“Five thirty. I’ll message you our address.” She stood and reached for her purse. “See you then.”
“Yeah. Great.” His shock limited him to monosyllabic responses. “See you then,” he called over his shoulder as her boots click-click-clicked across the hardwood floor behind him.
He’d done it. Somehow he’d convinced Skye to let him meet Connor. A smile tugged at his mouth and he pumped the air with his fist.
Through the window, he watched Skye jog toward her car as thick wet snowflakes fell from a gray sky. She was intense. And beautiful. He purged the observation from his thoughts. Nope. Not going there. He had one mission right now, and it didn’t include flirting with a pretty brunette. Besides, he wasn’t “relationship material.” The last woman he’d dated in Florida had solidified that when she’d called him emotionally unavailable.
Gage gritted his teeth. He had his binge-drinking mother and absentee father to thank for that. And he knew firsthand how tough some foster homes could be. Maybe that was why he found Skye’s loyalty to her own family both intriguing and intimidating.
He reached for his phone to check McKenna’s social media for an update.
Still nothing. Gage sighed and revisited her older posts, landing on an image of McKenna holding Connor on her lap.
Man, Ryan would be so proud of his son. He hated that Ryan never had a chance to meet the baby before the accident.
“I’m going to look out for him. I won’t let you down. I promise,” Gage whispered, swallowing against the tightness in his throat. He didn’t know yet how he would fulfill that promise specifically—looking out for an almost one-year-old—but it didn’t lessen his resolve. He knew all too well the heartache of growing up without a dad, and he couldn’t rest until he was certain Connor was safe. Loved. Being a part of Connor’s life was about so much more than keeping a promise to Ryan. When Gage was a child, other adults had enabled his mother’s reckless behavior. He never wanted Connor to experience the pain and hopelessness of that kind of betrayal from the very people who were supposed to protect him. And he’d do whatever it took to make that happen.
She shouldn’t have invited Gage over.
A dull ache throbbed at Skye’s temples, and she’d snapped at Mom more than once this afternoon. The thought of allowing a man they’d just met into their home—into Connor’s life—sent a shiver down her spine. She hurried to fix dinner in Mom’s kitchen, while Connor sat at her feet, babbling as he pulled every single plastic container out of the bottom cabinet drawer.
Caught off guard by Gage’s bold offer at the coffee shop yesterday, and still reeling from her babysitter’s sudden resignation, she’d relented too easily. Her healthy suspicion of strangers had inconveniently vanished, and now, in less than ten minutes, he’d be at the door and she’d have to come up with a compelling reason why she didn’t need his help. His desire to keep his promise to his friend was honorable and all, but she had to consider Connor’s safety, too. What did she really know about Gage?
“There has to be another option,” she muttered, sidestepping Connor to fish the salad-serving tongs out of the drawer.
“Honey, are you all right?” Mom sat at the oval table in the breakfast nook, slicing tomatoes for the garden salad. “You’ve been talking to yourself all afternoon.”
“Yep. Fine. I’ve just got a lot to think about.” Skye skirted the L-shaped counter and set the tongs beside the salad bowl in front of Mom, then quickly pivoted away. She felt her mother’s concerned gaze following her as she turned off the Crock-Pot. Gage and her child care issues paled in comparison to the furniture store’s financial issues she’d stumbled across today. Dad had left a much more convoluted mess than Skye had originally thought. How in the world would she ever bring that up? Mom had endured so much already.
“That’s a real shame about Bethany and her family moving to Phoenix,” Mom said. “She was a wonderful babysitter.”
“I wish she could’ve given more notice.” Skye pulled a stack of plates from the cabinet and carried them to the table. “Her timing is the worst.”
“Maybe God has something better in mind. For her and for you.” Mom’s gentle smile and trite observations made Skye bristle.
“You don’t believe that’s true.”
“I didn’t say that.” Skye swiped her palm across her forehead and turned away to grab napkins and silverware. “It’s just... Never mind.”
Hurt filled Mom’s brown eyes.
Skye clamped her mouth closed, conscious of poking holes in Mom’s beliefs. Even though they were once her beliefs, too, she sure had a lot of doubts lately about what God must have in mind for her. For McKenna and Connor, too.
“I’m worried. I—I don’t know what we’re going to do without Bethany.”
Without a lot of things. Skye kept her lengthy list of worries to herself while she struggled to tamp down the anxious feelings twisting her up inside. If the business was in worse shape financially than she’d thought, and she had to hire a full-time babysitter for Connor while she tried to save the furniture store, her own personal savings account would dwindle quickly. Both of her brothers said they were committed to helping, but neither of them were prepared to financially support Mom, either.
“We’ve certainly endured quite a few surprises lately,” Mom said quietly.
Connor squealed and banged two plastic measuring cups together, then held one out for her, accompanied by a toothy smile. Grateful his outburst might’ve saved her from discussing her waning faith, Skye leaned over and smoothed a wisp of his pale blond hair across his forehead.
“No, thanks. That’s for you.” When she pulled away without taking the measuring cup, his blue eyes filled with tears and his expression crumpled.
While his cries grew louder, Skye quickly glanced at the timer beside the oven. In two minutes, the rolls needed to come out. The stew in the Crock-Pot was ready, but there weren’t drinks in the glasses yet, and she hadn’t prepared anything for Connor to eat. Still so much to do before Gage arrived, and Mom wasn’t mobile enough to carry hot dishes to the table. Letting him sit there and cry wasn’t okay, either.
“C’mon, let’s move to the living room and play with some trucks. Your favorite.” She scooped him up and carried him into the living room, where his toys were still scattered across the beige carpet.
“Anything I can do?” Mom asked.
“I’ve got it.” Skye set him on the floor and pushed a plastic truck and some blocks toward him, but Connor only screamed louder, while his face deepened to a shade of pink she hadn’t seen before in his previous tantrums.
“Wow.” Skye glanced at Mom over her shoulder. “He’s really angry.”
“He’ll calm down in a minute.” Her mom braced against the table and pushed to a stand. “Let me—”
“No, don’t get up.” Skye hurried to her side and grasped her elbow. “I said I’ve got it. What do you need?”
“Honey, Dr. Bradley said I’m supposed to be walking short distances.” Mom raised her voice to be heard above Connor’s wailing. “There’s no reason for me to sit here while you wear yourself out. I can at least carry a few things to the table.”
Skye opened her mouth to argue, but the timer rang, reminding her that if she had any hope of getting the meal on the table, she’d have to relent and let her mother help a little