Heart of Glass Page 8

  I smiled as she ran across the room and started knocking—and then didn’t stop. She hadn’t realized yet that a few knocks would do, so she just knocked and knocked and knocked until the door opened slightly.

  “Is this my signal?” Trevor asked, not even peeking through the door.

  “Yeah.”

  The door opened wider, and he stood there in a pair of shorts and a white T-shirt, grinning. “I wasn’t sure if it was a false alarm or not,” he said, glancing down at Etta.

  “I let her knock,” I replied dumbly. I was pretty sure I was staring, but damn. That shirt did all sorts of things for his shoulders and chest. I’d just been looking at him shirtless for hours, but that white T-shirt was somehow pushing all of my buttons at once.

  “I see that,” he said, crouching down in front of Etta. “Good job, peanut.”

  “Job, ’Eanut,” Etta copied, bouncing a little up and down.

  “Were you singing?” he asked, glancing up at me.

  An embarrassed smile pulled at my lips, but I tried really hard to play it cool. “You heard that, huh?”

  “Just the tone,” he replied.

  “Wed pannies,” Etta interrupted, leaning sideways until he couldn’t see anything but her. “Wed pannies.” Then she lifted up her dress to show Trevor her diaper, making me snort with laughter.

  “Oh God,” I rasped, covering my face with my hand. “I’m in so much trouble with her.”

  “Cool red panties,” Trevor replied to Etta, his smile growing. “You like the color red?”

  “Yes.” She nodded resolutely, then got bored with the conversation and turned away to play with the mini fridge again.

  “Is that a cloth diaper?” Trevor asked, rising to his feet.

  “Yep. We’ve used them since she was little.” I smiled a little, but I couldn’t interpret the look on his face. I wanted to get out of there, but I had no idea how to extricate myself without looking like a jerk. Women in movies always had some easy-breezy way of saying that they needed to leave, but it didn’t happen like that in real life. I’d never found a non-awkward way to tell someone that I had to go. Usually it just came across as rude.

  “If you’re using cloth diapers because you need money and don’t want to tap into that insurance payout,” he said slowly, stopping my thoughts short. His eyes were nothing but kind. “I can—”

  “Lord,” I said, cutting him off. “You’re too nice. Seriously, how the shell are you so nice?” Now I felt even worse for wanting to bail. Was this guy for real?

  “Shell,” he mumbled, shaking his head at my tweaked swear word. “Seriously, Morgan.”

  “Oh, I know you’re serious,” I said, my lips curving up at the sides. “But we’re totally fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive,” I replied. “We do okay.”

  “I’m sorry. I just thought—” He didn’t finish his sentence as he gestured vaguely toward Etta in her cloth diaper.

  “Cloth diapers are actually pretty expensive,” I informed him. “At least at first. She’s had those same ones for over a year, so the cost is low now, but when I was building her stash, it got pretty steep.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep. Anywhere from ten to thirty-five dollars a diaper, usually.” Those diapers had come slowly to us. I’d had to save here and there, putting away five-dollar bills when I had them until I had enough for each one.

  “Jesus.”

  “Cool thing about those, though, is that they’re one size, so she’s been using them for a long time. I won’t have to get any more, she’ll just wear them until she potty trains.”

  “Why, uh, why did you decide to do that?” he asked. “If that’s not a rude question.”

  I laughed. “Not at all.” Etta came toward me, and I sat down, pulling her onto my lap. I grabbed her blankie and stuffed animal from our bag. As soon as she was holding them, she popped her thumb into her mouth and her body relaxed against mine. “So, when she was tiny we were pretty strapped,” I smiled ruefully, remembering just how strapped we’d been. “And I somehow saw this chat room with all these moms who were cloth diapering and loved it. At first I just grabbed what I could, secondhand waterproof covers, flat old-fashioned diapers made out of towels, stuff like that. Crazily, it worked better than I’d expected. Eventually, I got some more expensive and easier-to-use diapers whenever I had a little extra cash, and now she’s all stocked up.”

  “Huh,” Trevor said contemplatively.

  “Plus, she’s not filling the landfills with her poo,” I pointed out, complete with my finger pointed in the air. “All green, baby.”

  “Always a plus,” Trevor said, laughing. “I wouldn’t want to be cleaning poo off diapers, but no judgment.”

  I rolled my eyes in amusement. “When it’s your kid, it’s different. Plus, you know how many times she pooped through her disposable diapers? That was nasty. I had to clean her from the neck down and I still had to clean poo off clothes, so…”

  “Point taken,” Trevor said, raising his hands in surrender. He was leaning casually against the counter on the other edge of the room, with his bare feet crossed at the ankles.

  “And the diapers she wears now don’t have any chemicals rubbing against her skin all day—”

  “You win,” Trevor interrupted, his smile huge. “You’re a genius and I’m just a lowly disposable-diaper supporter.”

  “Still?”

  “Cloth diapers all the way, now,” he said teasingly. “I’ve been converted.”

  “I always knew I’d make a difference in the world,” I joked wistfully, making him laugh.

  “Looks like she’s down for the count,” he replied, nodding toward Etta.

  I nodded without looking down at her. I’d felt her body go limp the moment she fell asleep. “I should probably get her home,” I said, making sure I hadn’t left anything on the bed before getting to my feet. Finally, I had a legit reason for leaving.

  “I’ll get that for you,” Trevor insisted as he pulled our bag from my hand. “I can walk you down.”

  We were quiet as we made our way to my car. It wasn’t an awkward silence, like we’d dealt with before, but felt more like neither of us knew what to say because we had no idea when we’d see each other again. He lived in Oregon and I wasn’t sure how long he’d be visiting, but I had to work for the next six days and there was no way I’d be able to make time for him to see Etta. By the time I got home from work every day, Etta and I were both completely beat.

  “Thanks for letting me see her,” Trevor said after I’d buckled a still-sleeping Etta into her car seat. “Really. Thank you.”

  “Of course,” I replied with a small smile. As much as I wanted to keep Etta all to myself and was afraid of what the Harris family showing up in her life might mean, I wasn’t a monster.

  “So, I’ll get in touch with you about visits and stuff?”

  “Sounds good.” I nodded. In the back of my mind I knew that I could always blow them off if I needed to, especially with them living in a different state.

  “It was really nice to meet you…again.”

  “You too,” I replied, and I meant it.

  One awkward hug later and I was in my car and headed home. It had been such a weird day, my emotions were out of control. I couldn’t wait to get home so I could curl up in a ball with a cup of coffee and try to make sense of the impact that the Harris family would have on our lives.

  * * *

  Late that night, I was wrapped in a blanket on the couch watching TV when my phone dinged with a new message. My eyes widened when Trevor’s name popped up on the screen.

  I wanted to thank you again for today. I can’t even explain what it felt like to see a little bit of Henry in Etta.

  I smiled and swallowed the lump in my throat. I understood how Trevor felt. I got to look into the little copy of Henry’s face every day. I was sure at some point I wouldn’t think of him as often as I did, but as of now, it was hard to ign
ore their resemblance.

  Henry and I hadn’t been close. He’d been kind of impossible to get close to, and I’d never tried very hard. Our relationship, for lack of a better word, had been nothing more than a way to let off steam. We’d hung out for a couple of months, usually with a group of his friends, and more often than not had ended up naked together by the end of the night. Henry had been a lot of fun, but even if I’d been searching for my forever, I’d known early on that he wasn’t someone I wanted to be with long term. He was a nice guy, though, and I’d considered him a friend, even after he’d made it clear that he couldn’t be Etta’s dad. The guy’d had a lot of problems that he hid well from the world, and I couldn’t fault him for that. I told myself that we all had things that we tried to deal with as best we could. No one was perfect, especially not me.

  I clicked on the message and sat with my thumbs poised over the phone screen, unsure how I wanted to reply.

  You’re welcome, I finally typed. I’m glad that Etta has family that wants to know her. I was nervous about all that.

  His reply was almost instantaneous. Nervous?

  How did I explain all of the fears that had been plaguing me since Etta was born? Part of me had felt relieved when Henry had decided to completely distance himself from us. I worried about how Etta would feel about his decision as she got older, but I’d also felt a sense of comfort knowing that she was all mine. I was sure that made me a horrible person, but I couldn’t help it.

  I would have never made that decision for Henry, could have never taken away his rights if he’d wanted them. However, knowing that he didn’t want a relationship with Etta had made me feel more secure. When I was a kid, my mom had taken us away from my dad for no reason and moved us from Central California to Oregon. I’d never forgiven her for that, and I would never have done that to Etta. The flip side of that had been the constant fear that Henry would change his mind and try to take our daughter from me.

  Having a child was scary, period. Having a child with someone you didn’t share your life with made it infinitely scarier in a variety of ways. The loneliness had been horrible in the beginning, and when it was mixed with the fear of sharing my baby with someone who didn’t seem to want any solid part in her life? Well, that had been damn near devastating to think about.

  I just wasn’t sure what your family would do, I replied. You always hear horror stories about stuff like that.

  Henry’s family scared me more because they had a history of taking in kids that weren’t theirs. It was admirable, the way they’d taken in foster kids. I wasn’t sure how they’d been able to do that. I was pretty sure I didn’t have the strength to raise kids like my own knowing I’d probably have to give them back. But that also meant that they had the knowledge and contacts to be able to take Etta.

  It wasn’t logical. I knew that. Etta was safe and happy and cared for, and the courts usually favored mothers in situations like that. My fears weren’t rational; they were the outcome of a life lived in a series of hotels with my mother and then multiple foster homes while my dad fought to get me and my sister back. I’d learned the hard way that the courts didn’t always work the way they were supposed to.

  My heart raced a little as I waited for Trevor to text me back. I hoped I hadn’t offended him, but I was trying to be honest. Well, as honest as I was willing to be, considering the fact that I was still pretty freaked out that he’d shown up at all.

  Lucky for both of us, my family’s pretty great.

  How are they doing? I asked, curious about them. I remembered his parents fondly, even though they scared the shit out of me. It couldn’t have been easy losing one of their boys. I can’t imagine losing a child.

  They’re okay. Mostly. Still dealing. My mom is taking things the hardest, but she’s hanging in.

  Henry was the baby, right?

  Yep. He’s the youngest.

  Are you the oldest?

  How could you tell? My distinguished good looks?

  Process of elimination. Aren’t there only two of you? ;)

  Beeeeep. Wrong. There’s three. Shane is in the middle of us. Just a little younger than me.

  I don’t remember him.

  He was a foster, he might have come after you were there? Not sure. He was pretty old when he moved in, but he was one of the kids who stayed. He ended up marrying my cousin Kate.

  Incestuous, much? I grinned.

  Ha! Maybe if he’d grown up with us. Honestly, we all knew it would happen eventually, but it took them forever to figure their shit out.

  Wait, are they the ones with all the kids?

  Right. Sage, Keller, Gavin, Gunner and Iris. The first four are from Shane’s first marriage. Long ass story, don’t ask.

  That’s a LOT of kids.

  No shit. They make it work though.

  What about you? Any kids?

  Smooth, Morgan. Nice transition. Jesus, why was I still talking to the guy? Nothing good would come of striking up a friendship with Trevor Harris.

  Nope. No kids for me yet. I haven’t found someone I wanted to be with for longer than a few months, so…

  Me either. I joked.

  Shit, I didn’t mean it that way.

  No worries. Etta was the best surprise I’ve ever gotten. Like Christmas and my birthday all rolled into one.

  I bet. She’s awesome.

  When I didn’t reply right away, he texted again.

  Let me pull this foot out of my mouth. I’ve always been really sure of the fact that I don’t want to be a part-time dad. I want to be there for everything. So, I haven’t planned any kids, and there haven’t been any unplanned either. That’s not to say that I wouldn’t be happy with any child, no matter if I was with their mother or not.

  His attempts to backpedal were admirable, and I couldn’t help but snicker. He hadn’t offended me. I knew the way Etta had been conceived wouldn’t have been the ideal situation for most people. I’d just been glad she was, so I tried not to think about it.

  I get it. LOL

  I do want kids, though. Eventually.

  Clock’s ticking.

  You just told me to be patient!

  Not too patient.

  Now you sound like my mom.

  Ouch.

  Nah, I love my mom so that’s a good thing.

  Mama’s boy, huh?

  And not ashamed to admit it.

  I grinned at his response. Our texts had been flying back and forth so fast that I hadn’t realized my show was over and my coffee had grown cold. Yeah, I was one of those people who drank coffee at night. It was more of a comfort thing for me than a caffeine fix. My dad always drank black coffee and it reminded me of home the way other people said hot chocolate gave them similar comfort. I didn’t have any little-kid hot-chocolate memories.

  I know you’re working all week so I think I’m going to head home tomorrow.

  The smile fell off my face even though I knew it was definitely a good thing that Trevor was leaving so Etta and I could get back to our normal lives.

  I’ll come back down to visit as soon as I can—maybe I could bring my mom and we could plan it so you have some days off?

  Sure, sounds good.

  I’ll text you.

  I didn’t bother with a reply. I could already feel myself shutting down and shutting him out. It wasn’t anything he’d done or hadn’t done. I’d just always had the habit of fitting people into their little boxes. I’d developed the habit as I’d shifted in and out of foster homes. Being able to leave people behind, the good ones and the bad ones, and not think of them again had been the only way I’d survived the moves. If Trevor was leaving the next day it was time to put his box on the shelf until I had to deal with it again. It was easier that way. Besides, I’d known the minute he’d shown up at my door—his expression a mixture of nervousness and hope—that I wouldn’t let Trevor Harris upend our lives.

  Chapter 7

  Trevor

  Mom,” I groaned in exasperation. “I
hear you. I told you she hadn’t texted back yet, and she still hasn’t. I’ll tell you when I know anything.”

  I’d been home for a little over two weeks and my mom was already itching to take a trip to California to see little Etta. I understood her impatience, but there wasn’t really anything I could do to speed things up.

  Morgan and I had texted a little after the day we’d met, but that contact had tapered off pretty quickly. I wasn’t sure if she’d just been humoring me for a while, or if she was crazy busy now, but she wasn’t returning my texts with any sort of efficiency. She wasn’t completely ignoring them, sometimes writing back a day later, sometimes not until two days later, but I could tell she didn’t want to talk to me.

  I was surprised. I’d gotten the impression that we’d gotten along pretty well. I thought she’d liked me. However, I wasn’t about to tell my mom, who was waiting on pins and needles, that Morgan had decided that she didn’t want anything to do with me but seemed too polite to ignore me completely.

  Morgan had agreed to let my parents get to know Etta, and she hadn’t told me she’d changed her mind. That was the important thing, no matter how she seemed to be acting toward me now.

  “I’m just anxious,” my mom said with a shrug as she cooked dinner. “And excited, too. You should have taken more pictures.”

  “I didn’t want to come off as creepy,” I told her for the hundredth time. I’d been able to get two photos of Etta, one when she was playing on the floor in their house and one when she was stepping into the pool in her swimsuit, but I hadn’t taken any more. Morgan had seemed pretty laid-back, but honestly, those two photos had made me feel like a creeper because I hadn’t asked to take them. I wasn’t sure how the mama bear would feel about that if she knew.

  “She looks just like Hen,” Mom said, repeating herself. “I can’t believe how much. Her mom must not have very strong genes.”

  “She’s blond, too,” I reminded her as I pulled some plates down and started to set the table. “She doesn’t look like Hen, but she’s not his opposite, either.”

  “I wouldn’t have cared either way,” Mom said quietly. “But it’s nice, don’t you think?”