Simple Man (13 page)

“I guess. She wants kids some day. She’s always oohing and ahhing and shit when she sees babies.”

“Okay, could you call her and let me know what she says? I’d need to leave around six and wouldn’t be back until after midnight.”

“Sure.”

He hung up the phone and waited. A few minutes went by and Tucker called him back to say that Lisa agreed to watch Logan. Luckily he’d saved money on groceries that week because he’d need to pay her, but it would be worth it once he got money from the bar.

Things were actually working out better than expected. Whenever Kate showed up again she’d be pleased with his progress. He hadn’t seen her since that Sunday two weeks ago. Shane hoped she came by this week. He wanted to tell her about all the things that were happening.

* * * *

Thursday, a buddy from work brought in an old highchair. It was pink, but Shane accepted it gracefully. Logan was currently sitting in said chair, apparently unaffected by the liberal statement he was making.

Shane flipped his grilled cheese and was stirring his tomato soup when there was a knock at the door. It’d been nearly three weeks since he’d seen Kate and his gut tightened at the thought of her possibly coming by.

He put down the spatula and went to the door. Kate stood on the other side and smiled up at him. He held open the door. “Hey, stranger.”

She lowered her gaze and followed him in. “How are you?”

“Good. How are you?”

She glanced around and smirked when she spotted Logan banging a rattle on the tray of his pink highchair. “I’m good. Is that new?”

Shane’s neck heated. He rubbed it self-consciously. “Yeah. A friend of mine from work gave it to me. Logan’s cool with it. He likes pink—refers to it as more of a salmon bisque.”

She giggled and he stared at her. “What?”

A strange chill tightened his gut. “I never heard you laugh. It’s nice.”

Her golden lashes lowered and a salmon bisque tint colored her cheeks. Nice.

He headed to the kitchen. “Are you hungry?”

“Oh, no thank you,” she said quickly. She sidled up to the highchair and ran a hand over Logan’s fuzzy brown head. Staring at her with curiosity in his blue eyes, he gurgled. Show-off.

“Well, have you eaten? It’s just grilled cheese and soup. It’s no problem for me to make more. Eat with us.”

She hesitated and slowly nodded. “Okay.”

He wondered if it was against the rules to eat with her clients. For some reason that pleased him. He hid a smirk over the fact that Little Miss Goody Two Shoes might be a rule breaker.

He went about making up another sandwich and pulled out two bowls. Ladling out the soup, he finished the grilled cheese while Kate quietly whispered words to Logan. Logan performed for her, doing his best Bill Cosby and, his newest trick, singing the “Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah…” song.

He carried their plates to the table and got silverware. Kate smiled gratefully at him as he handed her a napkin. “Dig in.”

He watched her dainty fingers part her sandwich, the golden strings of the melted cheese giving ground reluctantly. She nibbled at the corner and blushed when she noticed him watching.

“Sorry,” he mumbled and bent to take a swallow of his soup. She’d somehow gone from annoying and intruding to pleasing and fascinating.

“You got a new car?” she asked quietly. She was wearing a soft pink cardigan and a pale yellow sundress. It was a dress, but not professional attire. She looked…pretty. There was that chill again. It wasn’t a bad chill. More like a soft tug that made his blood pump.

“Yeah. I’ll be paying for it until Logan’s driving, but it’s safe and it runs good.”

She nodded and looked back to her plate, taking a bite of her sandwich. She was being a lot shyer since they argued. Something changed and he wasn’t sure what. She seemed a lot more approachable this way, but he wondered what happened to the feisty little firecracker who first came to interrogate him.

“So, what do you do when you aren’t social working?”

She stilled and considered his question. Shit. Should he not have asked that? She asked about anything and everything regarding his life, so it seemed natural to ask some questions back.

“I like to go to the movies and I read a lot.”

“What do you read?” He wanted to ask who she went to the movies with, but that was definitely none of his business.

Logan dropped his rattle on the floor. Shane leaned over to pick it up and gave it back to him. He blew bubbles and babbled his thanks only to immediately drop it again. Picking it up, Shane handed it over again. This was one of his nephew’s favorite pastimes—fetch.

“I, um, read a lot of romances, some young adult stuff.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-five.”

“How long have you been a social worker?”

“A little over a year. I’m planning on going back for my masters in psychology.”

“To be, like, a doctor?” The thought had him drawing back and doing some inner assessments on his own success. Maybe he overestimated her approachableness.

She nodded. “Eventually, but that’s a long way off.”

She must be really smart. He didn’t know why this made him feel uncomfortable about himself. “Wow.”

“How about you? How long have you been in construction?”

Hearing her talk about getting a big fancy degree made his job seem small and meaningless. He shrugged. “Since I was eighteen.”

“Oh.” She looked like she had more questions, but rather than ask them she went back to her dinner.

He had a sudden urge to explain his situation, so she didn’t think he was a loser. “My parents died when I was seventeen. We had a house with a mortgage. I needed to take care of Noel, so I dropped out of school and started working. I planned on going back, but… life sort of got away from me.”

She looked at him. He expected her to criticize his lack of ambition, but rather she said, “You took care of your sister all those years on your own?”

He exhaled, relieved she wasn’t judging him harshly. “Yeah. We eventually lost the house. It was too much for us, but we got an apartment and I think we did all right. Well, until…”

“Do you miss her?”

He stared at his soup. Those hollow aches of loneliness had faded since he’d met Logan, but if he actually thought about the family he’d lost, the pain came right back. “Yeah. We weren’t really close in the end. I said some things and she took off. I tried to find her, but I never did.” His voice grew quiet. “I’d give anything to take back those last things I said to her.”

Kate’s small hand softly pressed into the top of his and he mentally jerked at the unfamiliar, yet pleasant, feel of her touch. “She knows.”

She was just being polite, but it felt personal, more than just common manners. He stared at her hand on his. Her nails didn’t appear painted, but under closer inspection there was the faintest gleam of pale shell pink. He met her gaze. “Thank you.”

When she pulled her hand back he drew in a breath. He wanted to hold it there, but that would be wrong. Did most people get this attached to their caseworkers? Maybe it was a subconscious need to convince this woman he was a good parent. Yeah, that was it.

“What about your music?” she asked.

He smirked. “You mean my gigs?”

She looked contrite. “Sorry I was such a bitch that day.” Her dainty fingers flew to her mouth. Eyes wide, she glanced at Logan apologetically.

His mouth opened, shocked at her language—shocked and sort of impressed. “It’s okay. When you’re not around he curses like a sailor.”

She tried to hide a smile as her cheeks flushed. They pushed their plates away and he sat back. What they were doing felt more like a date than a visit from his social services. He wondered if she realized that. Did she have dinner with her other people?

“I’ve been playing guitar since I was a kid. Mostly rock and stuff.” He shrugged. “I used to have big dreams, but now my priorities have sort of changed.”

“Because of the baby?”

“Because of Logan.”

He stood and carried the dishes to the sink. She folded her hands and said, “You’re very good with him. If someone didn’t know better they’d think he was yours. He looks like you.”

He grinned. “You think so? He has Noel’s nose, but his hair’s definitely all mine,” he said, yanking on his ponytail.

“He’s a cute baby.”

He stilled. Was that some sort of sideways compliment? He stared at her and she nervously lowered her eyes then stood. He stepped closer, not wanting her to leave and sensing she was about to do just that.

“I should go,” she quietly said.

“You don’t have to.” Logan was watching them from his chair, oddly quiet for a change.

She looked up at him, her gaze studying his face. She glanced at his arm where he had a sleeve tattooed. Her scrutiny made him uncomfortable.

He stepped back. They were too different and she was hired to report to the courts on him in two months. Turning, he scooped up Logan, giving her the opening she needed to leave.

“Thank you for dinner.”

“Sure.” He avoided direct eye contact. He couldn’t screw this up.

She slowly walked to the door. She looked as though she was forgetting something, but couldn’t think what. She hadn’t taken any notes again. Weird.

“Oh, how are the classes going?”

A burst of relief hit him as she asked the question, but he hadn’t even processed what it was. Classes. Right. “Good. My last one’s this Monday. The teacher says we’re graduating top of our class,” he joked.

She smiled and nodded. “Good. I look forward to reading her report.”

His smile fell. Dr. Haughenschlaugger reported back to Kate?

With nothing left to say, she grinned and left. He was thrown by her announcement that the doctor would be giving her a report, so he let her leave without further delay.

He didn’t like being talked about when he wasn’t there. What did they say? Would Kate laugh when she found out about all his stupid questions?

His brow creased with worry as she shut the door. Shaking off his uncertainty, he headed back to the kitchen. It was bath night and that was always an ordeal. Babies were extremely slippery when wet.

Chapter Nine

“His diapers are in here and extra wipes are in the bedroom. I usually give him a bottle around eight and sit with him with the lights turned down. That way he knows it’s time to sleep. You want to lay him down before he totally drifts off—on his back—so that if he wakes he isn’t startled and wondering where you went. He should be in the same place he was when he fell asleep.”

“Dude, take a breath!” Tucker said.

Lisa smacked him in the arm. “Shut up, Tucker. This stuff’s important.”

Shane should have smiled, but he was too nervous. “I made up bottles. They’re in the fridge. Use the cup by the sink to warm them up. Fill it with hot water and let the bottle sit in it for about a minute to get rid of the chill. Shake it and test it before you give it to him to make sure it isn’t too hot.”

“And just the one bottle?” she asked. She seemed calm. Shane liked that, because he was a total basket case.

Maybe he should call and cancel the show. No, it was good money.

“Well, he usually eats again at midnight,” he said. “But if he doesn’t wake up just hold off and I’ll do that feeding when I get home.” For some reason he wanted to be the one to do Logan’s midnight feeding.

“Okay.”

Shane picked up Logan and pressed his forehead to his. “You be good, my man. I’ll be home in a few hours. No friends over and stay out of the liquor cabinet.”

Logan grabbed Shane’s nostril and tried to pull his nose off his face. It was one of their secret handshakes. He hesitantly handed him to Lisa and picked up his bag. Anxiously, he looked around.

Logan was tugging on her hair and cooing happily. “My number’s on the fridge and the bar number’s there too. If anything happens—anything at all—or if you have any questions, call me. Unless it’s an emergency, then call 911.”

“Shane, you bringing that pretty bag with you to the show?” Tucker asked, grinning.

Shane looked down. The baby purse was hanging from his shoulder. “Shit.” He put it down and picked up his guitar case. “Okay. Call me if you need anything.”

“We’ll be fine, Shane. I have three younger sisters.”

Reluctantly, he left. Once he was behind the wheel he needed to do some deep breathing to calm his nerves. It was only for a few hours. They’d be fine.

The bar was semi-crowded when he got there. People were finishing up their dinners and moving on to cocktails. Drafts were a dollar until nine, which usually led to a pretty decent crowd.

Shane went directly to the stout wooden stage and checked the wires as he set up his speakers and microphone. He put his acoustic guitar on the stand and went back to the car to get his electric bass.

Once he was set up, his mind calmed and he was on autopilot. This was familiar. This was who he was before his life was overhauled with diapers and wet naps.

A few minutes before seven, Arty came out and introduced himself. They shook hands and he slid Shane an envelope of money.

“One of the waitresses’ll bring you a beer. Just let them know what you want.”

“Water’s fine.”

He sat on the stool on the stage and turned on the microphone. “Hello. I’m Shane Martin and I’m here tonight for your entertainment. If you have any requests don’t be shy.”

His fingers struck the chords and he fell into a riff he’d been practicing for a few weeks. It was a little softer than what he usually opened with, but this was the first time he’d played since losing his sister.

He leaned into the microphone. “This is for Noel.” His knuckles curled over the strings and he began singing his cover of
Dust in the Wind
by Kansas.

He didn’t expect his voice to seize at the bridge, but the words got to him. He played through it, imagining Logan, wondering what his sister would think of how fast he was growing.

As he sang his eyes settled on a girl in the crowd watching him. She twirled the straw in her drink and smiled sweetly at him. He smiled back and her eyes softened.