Page 12 of Soft Tissue Damage
When the diner closes an hour later, I get out and lean against my vehicle, waiting for Elena. What a dark-haired beauty she is, and with entrancing light-colored eyes. She’s far too young and innocent for me, but there’s no harm in quietly appreciating her—protecting her from afar.
As she approaches me, she’s checking her paycheck as if she can’t believe what just happened.
“Anything wrong?” I ask.
She pushes the envelopes into her bag and shakes her head. “Just surprised, that’s all. I guess my guardian angel is watching over me today.”
I guess he is.
I open the passenger door for her. “Get in.”
Elena hesitates, and her eyes fill with pain. “You can just say it here and get it over with.”
I frown at her. “Say what?”
Her eyes cut away from me, and she mutters, “That I’m not good enough for your son.”
Elena, not good enough for Leon? That’s what she looked so upset about in the diner? I wonder why this beautiful, hardworking young woman could possibly think I want her to stop seeing my son.
For a moment, I indulge in a fantasy of telling her to break up with Leon and go on a date with me instead. The thought makes my insides light up with possessiveness and pleasure, but it has to stay a fantasy. I couldn’t do that to my son.
“Elena. Look at me.”
She’s staring at her feet, so I put my finger under her chin and raise her eyes to mine.
“You’ve got it the wrong way around. I would never tell you you’re not good enough for my son. Every man who looks at you is telling himself that he’s not good enough for you.”
She gazes at me with parted lips.
I stroke her cheek with the back of my forefinger and lower my hand. “What I wanted to ask you is if you’re interested in some babysitting work once or twice a week.”
It takes Elena a moment to catch up to what I’m saying. “Babysitting? Really?”
“Leon said you’re good with children.” After questioning my son, I found out that Elena volunteers at herchurch daycare on Sundays. On Sunday morning, I followed her from her house to church and watched her playing with the children. I was just there to observe her, but I found myself smiling at her interactions, especially with the youngest toddlers. She clearly adores children, and they love her. I had Rosie with me, and after Elena went home I approached one of the nuns to ask about their daycare services, and inquired about Elena in particular, saying she was a friend of the family. The nun praised Elena’s commitment to the children to the skies and back. She’s been volunteering at the daycare for three years and has never missed a Sunday.
For the last three days, I’ve had someone on my team follow Elena, and as far as I can tell, she doesn’t drink, smoke, or take drugs. She’s always on time for work and church. A background check—thanks to a cop I know who enjoys earning a little extra on the side—told me that her record is squeaky clean. Her family is unknown, and she was raised by two church-going spinster sisters.
I feel confident that Elena is responsible enough to take care of Rosie, and now all that’s left is to introduce them and see if my daughter likes her.
I nod at the truck. “Get in. I’ll take you to meet Rosie, and we can talk about it. She’ll be asleep, but I can talk you through what I’m looking for.”
Sweet, trusting Elena gets into my truck. I want to tell her she shouldn’t get into a vehicle with a man who’s practically a stranger, but seeing as her naivety is working in my favor, I hold my tongue for now.
“Nice truck. I’m surprised you drive one of these,” she says as we head to my house.
“Why?”
She hesitates for a moment. “No reason.”
“You were expecting an old white van with electrical gears in the back?”
“Maybe. Or something flashy, like Leon’s car.”
I bought Leon a muscle car for his twentieth birthday.
I let a little of my youthful twang back into my voice. “Ma’am, I’m a good Southern working man. Driving a truck is in my blood, no matter how many decades I’ve spent in the Pacific Northwest. I make a mean fried chicken, and I like my iced tea sweet.”
She smiles when I call herma’am. “You should have told me you like sweet tea. I would have brought you some.”
