Page 22 of Single Glance

SEVENTEEN

As I hit the blinker to turn onto Main Street, I let out a small breath of relief, loving that I was on time for my first morning drop-off. It had been three days since Victoria left for Australia with Adam, and I was still finding my footing. Cam and I had worked out a tentative agreement to try out these first few days. We’d alternate staying at the main house. When he played home games or had practice, Emilia would stay with him, and I’d keep to the carriage house. But when his games were away, or if he needed to be at the stadium at night, I’d be on Emilia duty.

Which had started right away. After dinner on Thursday, Cam left, and his team would travel for six consecutive games. So, for now, it was just Emilia and me. I’d spent plenty of time with her in the past, but this was the first time we’d been alone for more than a day. I was used to being around kids—hello, education degree and dream job—but being the lone responsible adult for a while chafed a little.

“Auntie Hadley, are you sure you know where my school is?” Emilia asked from her booster in my back seat.

“Of course, Emilia Bedelia. We’ll be there soon.” My little bestie just nodded, frowning as she stared out the window. Come to think of it, she’d been a little extra quiet all morning. Emilia was a spit-fire, taking after her Aunt Hadley on that one, but today, she looked like she was on the verge of tears. When we hit a red light, I peeked up at her in the rearview mirror. “What’s on your mind, babe?”

“Nothing,” she sighed.

“Nah, not buying it,” I said. “You can tell me anything, Ems. And trust me, when you have big worries, it’s always better to talk them out.”

“You promise?”

“Promise, babe.” A car honked behind me, alerting me to the changing traffic signal. We drove down the next two blocks in silence. I wanted to wait out Emilia, to let her form her own thoughts and worries and realize she’d be safe to express them to me. Growing up, I learned to bite my tongue, not knowing what would trigger my mom into a rage. If I ever became a parent, I’d hate for my kids to experience that, and I extended the same courtesy to Emilia. Tori would feel the same way and would want Emilia comfortable enough to express herself. So, we kept driving in silence until a little voice popped up from the backseat.

“I just miss my mommy.” Emilia sniffled. “I’m trying to be brave, but I miss her a lot. She takes me to school every day.”

“And now it’s me,” I finished for her, watching as she nodded in the mirror. “It’s okay to miss your mom, kiddo. She misses you too.”

“She does?”

“Of course she does,” I said. “You’re her favorite person in the whole wide world. But sometimes, we need to try new things, even if it takes usaway from home.”

“Like you?” Emilia asked. “Mommy says you like to go ‘sploring. Do you miss us when you’re gone?”

“More than anything. I miss your mom right now.” We’d talked twice on the phone over the past two days, but it was hard to connect with the different time zones. Victoria took care of me when I got stressed or overwhelmed, but I couldn’t confide in her when I was watching her kid. She needed me to succeed at this, and I’d die before I ever let anything happen to Emilia.

For a moment, I worried I was failing at this whole pseudo-parenting thing, but then, Emilia beamed back at me, all the storm clouds gone from her expression. She leaned forward in her booster seat. “Is my mommy your best friend?”

“She is.” I smiled. “You know I met your mommy on the first day of college?”

“You did?” She blinked back at me, her voice full of curiosity, even though she had no idea about higher education. “Did you meet my daddy too?”

“Yup,” I said. I smiled forcefully to hide my groan. As I turned into the line of cars for drop-off, I glanced at Emilia in the rearview mirror. “So that means I’ve known your mom a long time, Em. Trust me—she misses you just as much and can’t wait to be home with you again. But until she gets back, when we’re both missing your mom, we’ll tell each other, ‘kay?”

She nodded, but her smile dropped. I looked up, and the parking officer ushered us ahead. “How about this? As soon as we get home from school, we’ll call her. I’ll even text her to make sure it’s a good time.”

A big, beautiful smile covered her face, and I turned around, giving myself a silent pat on the back. There were going to be a lot of learning curves over the next three weeks,so I was going to take my wins when they came. I’d take any chance to make sure Emilia felt comforted and seen.

The teacher called our car to the front of the line, and I hit the unlock button, letting Emilia out of the back seat. She hopped over to her friends, already forgetting our conversation. One thing I loved about working with kids—they were resilient. Most adults couldn’t handle the slightest amount of change, but kids were little warriors.

As soon as I pulled away from the school, my phone rang through the speakers, the word SARGE covering the screen. My throat instantly dried, hating how the sight of his name made my pulse race. While he called Emilia multiple times a day, we’d only texted. Simple messages. He wanted to check on things at home, and I’d send him photos throughout the day.

As hard as it was to believe, I missed him—missed his sleepy smile in the morning, missed the way he was with Emilia. Hell, I even missed the teasing tone of his voice, the way my stomach swept up when he grinned at me.

“God, Hadley,” I said to myself as I pulled away from the school. “You need to get a fucking grip.” Without further thought, I hit the green answer button. “To what do I owe this displeasure this early in the morning?”

“Hilarious, menace,” Cam chuckled. “I just want to make sure my kid’s still in one piece.”

“She is.“ Another burst of pride washed over me. It might not seem like much, but I’d tackled the morning routine all by myself. “Just dropped her off at school. She was a little sad this morning because she misses Tori, but she was all smiles by the time she saw her friends.”

“Good. And Vic’s house is still in one piece?”

“Eh, relatively,” I teased. “We might have made a craftproject with every type of paint available. You weren’t partial to any of your shirts, right?”

“I’ll take that as a yes.“ He paused for a moment before his voice lowered. “Fuck, this is harder than I thought it’d be. You’re sure she’s okay?”

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