A Forever Kind of Guy: The Braddock Brotherhood, Book 2 (18 page)

Hayley wrapped a towel around her wet hair and dried off. In her robe, she went back to the kitchen and poured coffee. Someone knocked on the door.

She peeked out the sidelight and saw the DCW social worker. She opened the door.

“Miz Christopher.”

“Miss Maxwell. I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Course not. We don’t schedule home inspections. We show up without an appointment. Thought I explained that to you.”

“Oh. Yes. You did.” Hayley tried to remember everything Callie Maxwell had told her about the procedure to qualify for foster parenting. There’d been an endless list and volumes of forms to be completed. Vaguely she recalled mention of unscheduled home visits.

“You going to keep me out here or can I come in?” The social worker raised an eyebrow in question.

“Oh. Sorry. Of course. Please come in. Sorry, I’m not—er, ready—um, dressed.”

“Ain’t no problem. I don’t care what you wearin.’ I’ll take a peek around. Be out of here shortly.”

“Oh, okay.”

Callie Maxwell glanced around as Hayley closed the door behind her.

“Bedrooms are this way, correct?” she asked as she crossed the living area.

“Yes, uh—”

“Need to check the bathroom. Ah, right here.”

Hayley watched as Callie stepped into the hallway and poked her head into the small bathroom. Fletcher’s room was to the right. Hers to the left.

“That you, baby?” she heard Andre ask. “You bringin’ your favorite man some coffee, or what?”

Hayley cringed as the social worker took a few steps to the left of the bathroom door, far enough, she was sure, to see into the open door of her bedroom, to see Andre in her bed.

“Hayley’s in the kitchen,” she informed Andre. “I’ll tell her to bring you coffee.”

Callie went back past the bathroom toward Fletcher’s bedroom and reappeared a minute later. “Your, uh, guest, wants coffee.”

“He’s, um, he’s a friend.”

“I see that.”

“He’s visiting. Overnight.” Oops. That didn’t sound right. “He has to leave today.”

“Okay. Laundry room in through here?” Callie passed by the kitchen area and poked her head into the small utility room.

Next she made a circuit of the kitchen, looking into the refrigerator and freezer, the microwave and oven, glancing at the counters and the sink.

“Want some coffee?” Hayley asked, although she didn’t particularly want to prolong the social worker’s stay.

Andre appeared at that moment, dressed in yesterday’s clothes. Callie’s eyes bugged out as she stared at him. Andre’s gaze moved from her to Hayley and back before Hayley remembered to introduce them.

He stepped forward and shook Callie’s hand. “Pleased to meet you.” To Hayley he said, “I gotta get some stuff out of the car. Be right back.”

He closed the door behind him, and Hayley turned to gauge the social worker’s reaction. “Mmm-mmm. That be one fine specimen of a man you got there.”

“I, uh, don’t
have
him. He’s a friend. A close friend.”

Callie looked at her. “Yes. I see that. I’ll be going now. But I’ll be back. Without warning. You have a good day. Mmm-mmm-mmm.”

Hayley closed the door behind the social worker. Fletcher appeared in his pajamas, rubbing his eyes and clutching his bear.

Seconds later, Andre walked back in, holding a duffel bag. “How about I cook us all some breakfast?”

“I do love a man who cooks for me,” Hayley said an hour later. She popped the last bite of French toast into her mouth, chewed and swallowed. After Fletcher had finished eating, Hayley turned on
Sesame Street
for him. She poured more coffee for her and Andre and dropped a kiss on Andre’s cheek before returning to her chair. “I wish you could stay longer,” she told him.

“Me too. I’d like to see you and your next-door neighbor in action.” He grinned in delight.

“There’s not much action going on,” Hayley informed him. “And there won’t be.”

Andre raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“Because there’s no point in getting involved with him. I’m not staying here. You know that. As soon as DCW finds a family for Fletcher, I head for L.A. That’s the plan.”

“Plans can change,” Andre pointed out mildly.

“You’re right. I thought I’d be married to Trey my whole life, but he sure changed that plan.”

“We ain’t talkin’ ’bout Trey. We talkin’ ’bout you and what you want.”

“That’s easy. I don’t want to get hurt again.”

Andre covered her hand with his. “Aw, baby. That ain’t no way to live, pushing away every good thing, every good man that comes along just ’cause you playing the ‘what if’ game all the time.”

Hayley stared into her coffee cup. In her head, she knew Andre was right. But her heart wasn’t ready to put itself out there again.

“Ray’s a good guy. Plus he’s got a thing for you. And I know you got a thing for him. You know how rare that is?”

Hayley was afraid she did. So what were the chances it could happen to her twice? And what were the chances it wouldn’t blow up in her face a second time? “It’s more than that. I don’t want to hurt him, either. And I know if I take it to the next level, he’s going to expect more. And I’m not sure I’ve got anything left to give.”

“Maybe you owe it to him and to yourself to find out.”

Hayley shook back her hair. “Besides, I promised Paige I’d move out there. She’s already been more than patient holding a job for me. I can’t let her down.”

“Paige would understand,” Andre said. “She’d want what’s best for you. She’d want you to be happy.”

Hayley gave a little laugh at that. She was pretty sure she’d forgotten what happy was like. “I want L.A. I want something different. Somewhere different. Where I don’t have to be reminded of everything bad that’s happened to me.”

“Anywhere but here, huh?” Andre said with an understanding smile.

“I just want a new life, a different life.”

“I get that. But you don’t necessarily have to move across the country to find it.”

Sesame Street
ended, and Fletcher came over to stand by Hayley’s chair, clutching his bear. She put her arm around him and kissed his hair. “Hey, sweetie. Is your show over?”

Fletcher nodded.

“Want to help me load the dishwasher?”

Again Fletcher nodded. Hayley had discovered he enjoyed putting the utensils into the slots for her. She pushed back from the table. Andre caught her wrist and gazed into her eyes. “Are you really sure you can give that little boy up?” he asked softly. Fletcher had already moved to the counter to wait for her. Her gaze flickered his way briefly before returning to Andre.

“I have to.”

Chapter Sixteen

The following Saturday morning, Hayley attacked the bathroom wallpaper with gusto, something she’d wanted to do since the day she’d moved in. She hadn’t told Ray how truly awful she thought it was, but wondered who in their right mind would choose such a garish design? One of the previous tenants, probably. The huge red poppies overwhelmed the small space, and Hayley always felt like their black centers were eyes staring at her.

She’d get rid of every last bit of it, no matter how long it took. She’d paint the walls something soft and pretty and neutral. Blue, maybe. The fixtures and tile were white. Any color would be better than these giant crimson poppies on silver foil. The next tenant would appreciate her effort.

Earlier in the week, she’d asked Ray about tearing down the wallpaper and he’d given his approval. Last night, she’d borrowed a ladder from him, and she was making good headway on the project when she heard him greet Fletcher at the front door.

“I’m in the bathroom,” she called through the partially open door. The ladder took up most of the floor space, and she’d angled the front feet into the tub to reach the far wall.

“Hey, what are you—”

Ray stopped mid-sentence, and Hayley turned to answer him. His expression stopped her. He stared at the fallen strips of wallpaper on the floor, then at the jagged edges on the wall where bits and pieces of poppies still lurked. Some of it had come off in big, uneven strips, but some of it was going to take a little more work.

“The wallpaper,” Hayley started to explain. “You said I could tear it down, remember?”

Ray stared up at her. He looked, if she had to choose a word, devastated. Oh my God. What had she done to cause such a reaction?

She started down from the ladder. “Ray, I—”

Ray turned and bolted. She stumbled and tripped, stepping over the side of the tub. Hanging on to the vanity to regain her balance, she called to him. The slam of the front door answered her.

Fletcher jumped at the sound of the door then turned to look at her, as if expecting a reprimand. As if he were to blame for Ray’s hasty exit. Hayley hurried over to him and hugged him to her. She rubbed his back, her gaze trained on the driveway visible from the window. Ray’s Explorer backed out of the driveway and disappeared around the corner with a squeal of tires. “It’s okay, Fletch. It’s not your fault.”

But whose fault was it?

Fletcher went back to his Legos, Lincoln Logs and toy cars. The Cartoon Network kept him company while he built a city big enough to cover the coffee table.

Hayley returned to the bathroom to survey the destruction. What had Ray seen that she didn’t see? She had no idea. The walls were in good condition, and they’d be fine once she got all the wallpaper and glue off and scrubbed them. It wouldn’t take her long to prime and paint them. If she kept at it, she could have it done by tomorrow.

She couldn’t leave the bathroom the way it was.

Ray drove to his favorite fishing spot and parked. He got out and sat on the big flat rock overlooking the river.

Seeing Hayley on the ladder, ripping that crazy poppy wallpaper off the wall, had triggered something inside him. He thought he was going to fall apart right there in front of her. He had to get away before he did. He thought he was doing better. He could once again sleep through the night. He thought he’d buried all his memories in the past where they belonged. But sometimes they sneaked up on him when he least expected it, and there he’d be, like a lost little kid, devastated and with no shoulder to cry on.

In his head, he’d superimposed an image of Caroline, there atop the ladder. She’d picked out that hideous wallpaper and recruited him to help hang it, a chore he detested. But he couldn’t say no to Caroline. The exact same wallpaper hung in the bathroom on his side of the duplex. It had come as no surprise to him when Caroline informed him she’d found enough rolls at half price to do both bathrooms.

They’d spent a weekend good-naturedly arguing while they hung the paper. When they were almost done, Caroline had teetered on the top step of the ladder, and Ray had grabbed her before she could fall. Then he’d dragged her into the bedroom, laughing and protesting, and they’d stripped off their sticky, glue-spattered clothes and made love.

Ray ground the heels of his hands against his eyes and did his best to dissolve the lump of emotion lodged at the back of his throat. If Caroline had lived—oh, what was the point in thinking that way? He asked himself this for the thousandth time, but he couldn’t always stop his mind from going there. Asking “what if” questions got him nowhere. They made him feel worse. But in his head he could reconstruct the perfect scenario, he could change his own behavior. Instead of behaving like an ass, he’d be the knight in shining armor, thrilled with the unexpected news that he was about to be a dad, not bothered by his wife’s deception. If Caroline were still alive, he’d still be married and there’d be a little boy toddling after him.

If he’d listened to Caroline’s concerns about the endless time bomb ticking of her biological clock, if he hadn’t been so adamant about sticking to their plan, if he’d put her needs above his own—it would have changed nothing. He couldn’t have prevented the fluke of Caroline’s weakened aorta. He’d still have lost her and their unborn child. And he’d probably still find something to beat himself up over now.

Idiot
, he chided himself. Caroline had never been particularly strong. She was slender, sort of fragile-looking, but healthy as far as anyone knew. He’d loved her. He had a history with her. What she’d done hadn’t been unforgiveable. He’d expected to be with her forever.

This morning, when he’d seen those jagged strips of wallpaper still clinging to the wall, and the big and small pieces scattered across the floor, all he could think was, there was another piece of his life with Caroline ripped away as if it meant nothing.

It was silly, ridiculous to think like that, but that’s what he’d thought. Hayley probably thought he was nuts. She couldn’t possibly know what had caused his reaction. He’d told her she could get rid of the wallpaper, after all, and she’d been doing exactly that.

Lately he’d been wondering if he hadn’t loved Caroline enough. Had they simply paired off because so many in their circle of acquaintances already had? He’d loved her, yes, but he’d never felt that sizzle of heat he did when he was around Hayley. He’d never behaved like a love-struck teenager around Caroline, either. After Caroline’s death, he’d stumbled around in the dark for a long time, trying to deal with his inadequacies as a husband and potential father. Meeting Hayley was like having a light switch flicked on, dispensing with all those dark places, giving him a second chance to be the kind of man he wanted to be. From the moment she’d opened the door to him that first day it was as if he knew her in a way he’d never known Caroline.

He’d have to try to explain this to Hayley. Somehow. But not right now.

By late afternoon, Hayley had finished stripping the wallpaper. She surveyed the bare walls with satisfaction. She’d made a game for Fletcher with a big grocery bag, challenging him to see how much of the old wallpaper he could stuff into it. He’d diligently gone after every bit of it, all the big and small pieces, some of which Hayley had to scrape off with a razor.

She’d scrubbed the walls clean. Tomorrow she’d go to the Home Depot in Jannings Point and get some paint samples. She should probably get Ray’s approval before she bought the paint. Hopefully, he wouldn’t freak out on her again.