“Oh, Liam, I’m so glad you’re home! I couldn’t help but worry. The news is displaying charts that show the hurricane center getting closer, and they’re still calling it a Category 5. I feel so safe here, but I’m so afraid for other people’s homes that aren’t nearly as secure as yours. I can’t imagine what the damage might be like.”
It dawned on him that her first concern was for other people’s homes, not even mentioning her trailer. He lifted his hand and dangled her keys in front of her face. Her brow scrunched, and she cocked her head to the side. “My keys! How did you get them? Did they fall out of my purse?”
“I’m afraid I was sneaky, Amy, and should apologize. They were laying at the top of your purse, and I admit that I took them.”
Her chin jerked back slightly. “You took my keys? Why?”
“That was my brother who came to pick me up because I’d asked him if he would take me to your vehicle.”
“You’re kidding!”
“The news was that the winds had slowed ever so slightly, and if we were going to try to get it to safety, it was our only window during the daylight. We made it out there, it was fine, and I brought it back.”
She gasped, her hands clenched together as they pressed against her chest. “My trailer? You got my trailer back here?”
“It’s parked right next to the garage with your rental SUV. So, anything that you might need from it, it’ll be safe right where it is.” Her smile was gratitude enough, but she caught him off guard when her hands flung out to the side as she jumped forward. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, her belly pressed against him.
“Oh, my God, Liam! I can’t believe you went out in the storm to get our things! I should be so upset that you put yourself in danger but all I can think of is that you’re back here safely, and Rosie and I won’t lose what we brought!”
His arms wound naturally around her waist as though he’d known her for much longer than just meeting the previous night, and he laughed at her delight. A kick moved against his stomach and he jolted. “What… wow.”
She let loose of him, her arms dropping, her face pink with blush. “Oh, I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t embarrass you.” With her hands on her stomach, she smiled. “Peanut wanted to say thank you as well.”
He dropped his gaze, staring at her stomach, wondering if the baby would move again. Amy reached over and took both his hands in hers, bringing them forward so that they rested on her stomach. After just a moment, the baby kicked again, right where his hand was. Jolting again, he grinned. “Does it hurt?”
She shook her head. “No, it’s just letting us know they’re getting ready to come out and greet the world.”
“Is it a boy or girl?”
Sucking in her lips for a few seconds, she shrugged. “I don’t know. I told the doctor that I didn’t want to know.” Brows lowered, she sighed. “I’m not sure why. But, whatever it is, Rosie and I’ll be ready to welcome it into our little family.”
He’d been around his sisters and sisters-in-law when they were pregnant, and a lot of his friends had babies, but it dawned on him that he’d never had his hands on a pregnant belly before. And all of those women had husbands that were dedicated to them, excited about the baby, and ready to share in the event. And Amy doesn’t. His gaze lifted, seeing a sadness move through her eyes. He couldn’t understand why it affected him so, but her sadness cut right through him.
9
He walked out of his bedroom, having checked the upstairs windows to make sure there were no leaks. Needing to look at the windows in the guest room where Amy and Rosie were staying, he stopped outside, heard their soft voices downstairs, and entered the room. His feet stumbled to a halt at the spread of clothing scattered all about. Two suitcases were open, and little girl clothes had been tossed around as though Rosie had attempted to look at every outfit before deciding. While the adult clothes were not quite so haphazardly displayed, there were quite a few that were hanging on the footboard of the bed and in the open suitcase, and the chair was now turned and pressed against the mattress. Stepping over the items carefully but with some difficulty, he checked the window, glad that it was holding steady against the wind and rain.
Moving into the bathroom, his brows raised to his hairline at the explosion of toiletries covering the vanity. Lotion, deodorant, shampoo, toothpaste, toothbrushes, hairbrushes, little barrettes with pink sparkly hearts, and a bag with makeup spilling out of the top. With three sisters, it wasn’t as though he’d never seen a bathroom covered in female toiletries, but having lived on his own for years, he’d gotten in the habit of seeing more of the counter and less… stuff.
Walking past the mess, he checked the bathroom window, once again pleased that there was no sign of a leak. Feeling as though he had intruded on Amy and Rosie’s space, he quickly left their room and checked the other guestroom. It was a mirror image of the room the girls had slept in but with no clothes, suitcases, or toys. Neat. Clean. Bland. He jolted at the last descriptive word that moved through his mind. No, not bland! Just neat.
As he walked down the stairs, he halted, glancing into the living room and seeing Rosie playing with several toys, Bubbie being front and center. A coloring book and crayons were on his coffee table, and as he watched, it appeared she was teaching Bubbie how to color.
“Use blue for sky and green for grass. The duck is yellow and the dog is brown.”
A miniature dollhouse sat on the floor near the coffee table, several small pieces of furniture and toys scattered about. He hoped he didn’t step on one and break anything. He didn’t have to wonder where Amy was, considering the scent of garlic and tomato sauce wafted past. Just as he was getting ready to come down the last few steps, he heard Amy walking out of the kitchen.
“Oh, Rosie! Remember, I told you to keep your toys neat. Liam’s house is super clean, and we don’t want to make a mess.”
“But I’m not making a mess, Mommy. I’m playing.”
“I know, sweetie, but sometimes when you play you make a mess.”
“You make a mess in the kitchen.”
Amy laughed, and Rosie giggled. “You’re right about that. Sometimes we do make a mess in the kitchen! But I always clean it up, don’t I?”
“How come Mr. Le-Um doesn’t make any messes in his house?”
“It’s Liam, one word, not two. And I’m sure he’s messy sometimes, but we want to make sure that we keep his house as clean as he does.”
Just then, Amy came around the bottom of the stairs and saw him standing there. Eyes wide, she jumped slightly. “Oh, I’m sorry.” An adorable blush crossed her cheeks. “I was just coming to help Rosie clean up.”
“No, she’s fine. Really.”
Amy looked at him, her gaze appraising. Leaning closer, she spoke softly. “Liam, your beautiful house is spotless. It’s easy to see that’s the way you like it, and I want to keep it that way, too. You’re so kind to let Rosie and me stay, and even though she’s a little girl and doesn’t understand how to keep things quite so neat, I want to make sure that you don’t regret our being here.”