Page 21 of The Third Girl

“Yep. So, if she gets up in the middle of the night, it’s typically around two or three, and I still haven’t figured out why. She usually needs to be rocked for a bit and then put back down.” We walk into the living room, and I catch the astonished look on Skylar’s face. “Sorry. She likes to pull everything out. You’d be amazed how fast she can do it. Then I spend all evening putting them away.”

“I bet. Eventually she’ll do it herself, you’ll just have to teach her how it’s done. You should see the mess we make in my classroom on a daily basis.” She winks at me. “Hey, Sailor! Can I see your room?”

Sailor’s head pops up from the Matchbox police cars she’d been playing with. She nods her head vigorously, her eyes lit up, then stands up and grabs for Skylar’s hand, tugging her toward the stairs.

“This way, huh?” Skylar stifles a laugh.

“Yep.”

I snort at my daughter’s matter-of-fact response and follow them. As we get to the front of the house, I clear my throat. “I’ll get your bag and put it in your room.”

She glances over her shoulder as Sailor approaches the bottom step. “That’d be great, thanks. How’s she with the stairs?”

“Not too bad, she kinda crawls. But I always follow behind to make sure she’s okay. The one time I didn’t, she stood upright and almost fell backward.”

“Got it.”

They start up the stairs ahead of me. I pick up the bag, putting it over my shoulder, and wait calmly while my daughter ascends the stairs with Skylar right behind her. My gaze unconsciously lands on Skylar’s ass in her jeans, and I swallow hard.

Do not look like that at the young woman here to help with your daughter.Don’t do it.Warnings blare in my head. She shouldn’t be ogled. Yeah, she’s beautiful and has the body of… well, a twentysomething, but ugh. I suck in a breath as I demand that my dick stand down.

When we finally reach the top of the stairs, I don’t even have to direct Skylar to Sailor’s room, as my daughter drags her down the hall. I stop for a moment to drop Skylar’s bag on the bed in the guest bedroom, then I follow them and stand in the doorway while Sailor jumps up and down, pointing at various things around the space that she calls hers.

“My woom!”

“Wow, it’s such a prettyroom,Sailor. All pink and purple.” Skylar glances over her shoulder at me. “It’s super cute.”

“Terri did most of it. I just rolled the paint and hung things on the walls where she asked me to.” I allow myself for a few moments to see the room as another person would. Soft-purple walls with pink accents.Sailor Janeemblazoned in pink wooden letters across the wall over the vintage-looking crib. Of course it wasn’t really vintage, as Terri was always quick to say, because that would be dangerous; and she’d been so proud that she’d found it for a steal. There’s a rocking chair to match, and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves on one side that we’d anchored to the walls so they wouldn’t tip over.

“Oh gosh, look at all the books.”

I nod. “Terri wanted Sailor to have as many books as she pleased and not have to limit them because of space. That’s why she had me put up the shelving. And then she did her damnedest to buy up all the children’s books she could find.”

“It’s amazing, really, Matt. Any kid would love this.” Her gaze lands on the huge bin of stuffed animals. “Oh, Sailor. Look! These are so fun. Do you have a favorite?” And this woman who hardly knows my child drops to the ground beside her and begins to rummage through them, patiently smiling and exclaiming over everything Sailor shows her.

My heart is pummeled as flash after flash of Terri in here with Sailor hit me out of nowhere. Terri pacing the floor with our tiny baby girl in the middle of the night when we were trying to straighten out her sleep schedule. Terri changing Sailor’s diaper at the table on the wall opposite the crib. Terri rocking her in the chair while breastfeeding her. Terri. Here. Terri. Everywhere.

Fuck.Drawing in a ragged breath, I spin around and walk out of the room, needing to escape the memories of Terri that make me ache so badly. I head into my room and sit down on the bed.

I had to completely redo our bedroom because I couldn’t stand to stay in the space we’d shared when she was alive. I purchased new furniture and redecorated it until it no longer appeared to be the same room. I don’t know if that was a good choice, or the right choice, or what I was supposed to do at all. But the therapist I’d been seeing said it didn’t matter what anyone thought or felt but me. Because in the end, I’m the one who’s alive and living here. I’m the one who has to sleep here.

With my head in my hands, I struggle to get a grip on myself. I knew this wouldn’t be easy, but damn. After another minute or so, a noise near the door makes me realize I’m not alone.

“Matt, are you okay?”

I unfold my body, bringing my head up so I meet her eyes. They’re full of quiet concern. I feel the urge to explain to her what’s going on in my head, but I simply can’t bring myself to do it. I don’t know her. She’s a young woman with the rest of her life ahead of her. She doesn’t need to hear the crap that bogs me down on a daily basis. Not to mention, that would be entirely inappropriate, considering I’m technically going to be her boss, no matter if we have mutual friends. I exhale harshly. “Yeah, I’m good. Everything’s fine. Did you find your room?”

“I did, it’s nice, thank you.”

I clear my throat. “I forgot to tell you that you’d be sharing a bathroom with Sailor. Is that okay?”

She nods, but her face still shows a modicum of concern. “Of course. I’ll stash my things away after she’s in bed. She’s asking if it’s time to brush her teeth. Or her ‘teef’ as she likes to call them. Do you want me to help her with that?”

“Sure. She can show you.”

Skylar nods, pulling her gaze from mine and walking away. I hear the two of them heading for the small bathroom, then Sailor climbing up onto the step stool in front of the sink. Skylar whispers to Sailor something about how she needs to brush every single itty-bitty tooth.

Done feeling sorry for myself, I get up and go down the hallway until the two of them come into view. Skylar is fake brushing her teeth with her finger while my daughter laughs her way through the process. When Skylar spots me in the reflection of the mirror, she turns her head and smiles. “Do you want to show me where all the diapers and jammies and spare bedding is?”

I scratch my head. “Right. You might need to know all that.”

She shoots me a kind smile. “Yep, for sure. You never know when someone is going to have too much to drink before she goes to sleep and flood the bed.”

I clear my throat. “How do you know all this stuff? You don’t have kids, do you?”

“No. My aunt had a baby when I was fifteen, so I babysat my cousin a lot until she was about three, and I left for college. She’s eleven now. It’s amazing how fast they grow.”

My heart clenches. It’s the absolute truth. And every day our baby grows is a day Terri didn’t get to see it.

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