“Well, looks like he’s in good hands,” I said, standing and grabbing my bag. “I better get going. Thanks again.”

Luke leapt up. “I’ll walk you out.”

I nodded and gave Julia a tight smile. She deserved to be happy, and Luke was the right guy for that. I was determined to help that happen.

“So, do I have a shot?” he whispered, holding the door for me.

“Yeah, you do. Just give her some time.” And give me time to talk to Logan. I’ll set this straight.

“I owe you one.” Luke’s grin was optimistic, and I was pretty sure I was his new favorite person.

“Consider us even for you taking care of Scout.” It was a win-win in my book.

Chapter Thirteen

Calamities

After calling out a quick goodbye to Scout and Julia, I made my way downstairs to the parking lot. My thoughts were lost on possibilities of what Logan could’ve done to Mark that had Julia so put off. The last time I’d seen my ex was at Haven, where Logan was detained in the kitchen, nearly destroying the place trying to get to Mark. It was clear he didn’t like the guy. I didn’t mind, but whatever had happened between Logan and Julia needed to be worked out.

“Shit!”

A loud shattering noise followed the curse, and I spotted Natasha standing beside her car. The box in her hands had broken open at the bottom, and shards of glass surrounded her feet.

I had two choices: continue to my car and pretend I never saw, or…

“You need some help?” I asked, walking over. Typical. It’d always been in my nature to be the nice one.

She peered up at me, her eyes squinting in the bright sunlight. “Uh, yeah actually. But I’m sure you’re busy. I got it.” She shoved the empty box in the passenger seat and shut the door.

My lips pulled up, my smile tight but friendly. “I don’t mind, really. I’ve got some time, and I just moved last year so I know how much fun it can be.” I stopped at her trunk, eyeing the massive box waiting to be hauled out. There was no way she should carry it by herself. Even if it was filled with pillows, it looked too large to be handled by one person. “Grab the other side?”

“Thanks, but I say we take these first.” She handed me a smaller box from the backseat that was more my size. “That one is gonna be a pain.” Natasha gestured toward the trunk. “Feel free to walk away now.”

She laughed, and I relaxed.

“Nope. I said I’d help, so let’s do this.”

Natasha grabbed a vase from the backseat, shut the door, and led the way.

Surprisingly, she lived only three apartments down from Luke. I blanched internally at the thought of her and Julia running into each other regularly. I could only hope it wouldn’t put a damper on Julia’s visits with Luke.

Natasha’s apartment was standard but a slightly different design than Luke’s, with a small combined kitchen and dining room, tiny living room, and hall with three doors. That was the difference—his had only two doors. I assumed one was a bathroom, and the others…

“Two bedrooms?”

She nodded, placing the vase on the counter. “Yeah. I know Logan isn’t going to let Oliver stay the night anytime soon, but I hope that will change eventually. I want him to feel at home here, and it wouldn’t feel right if he didn’t have his own room.”

A smile broke out on my face.

“You want to see?” she asked, excitement in her tone.

“Sure.” I wasn’t sure there would be anything to see, since she was just moving in and boxes lined the walls, but I was proven wrong as soon as she opened Oliver’s door.

You’d never guess a room so perfect was situated in a small-town apartment. It was fully furnished and decorated, complete with a wallpaper border of dinosaurs running along the center of the walls. There was a twin-sized bed against the wall, with a maple side table that held a lamp boasting a giant T-rex surrounded by miniature dinosaur figurines. On the other side of the room were a dresser and bookshelf loaded with a mix of children’s novels and toys. And above the bed, wooden letters hung, spelling out OLIVER.

I was in awe. It rivaled his room at Logan’s house.

“It’s…perfect. He’ll love it.”

“I know. I spent all day yesterday shopping, and then stayed up till two this morning decorating. He said he and Logan like to play dinosaurs.”

I turned away from the Pottery Barn-styled showroom and looked to her. “They do. I think it’s their little thing.”

“Well, now we’ll share that.”

Maybe it was just me, but the way her lips pinched together when she’d said those words bordered on disturbing.

“We should get that box from the trunk,” I said, leaving the room.

I didn’t want to dislike her, despite having every reason in the world to be cautious. She was Oliver’s mother, and at the end of the day he needed to have one other person who could at least stand to have her around. For him, I would be that person—or at least try to be.

“Can I ask you a question?” Natasha asked as we walked through the living room.

“Sure.” I stopped and turned back, my routine smile in place.

“I volunteered to help out in the PTA last month when I moved here and haven’t heard anything back. How does that usually work?”

PTA? I’d have been slightly impressed had there been no nagging wonder if it was all for appearances.

“Did you do it in person?”

“Yeah. The lady was…a little rude.” Her face screwed up. She looked almost embarrassed.

I shook my head, eyes rolling back. “Tall, a little gut, with too-short greying hair?”

“Sounds like her.”

I laughed. “She has, like…10 children, and thinks she has all the power in that school. Did you attend the meeting last month?”

“Yeah, I saw it in the newsletter in Oliver’s book bag and thought it would be something good to check out, but the ladies were…”

“Bitches,” I finished for her.

She laughed, relaxing. “A little bit.”

“You’re an outsider to them, that’s all. It’s one massive clique there. Give it time and keep up with the newsletters to show them you aren’t going away.”

“Thanks.”

I nodded, feeling a little lighter, as well as proud that we could be amicable.

As I turned back and began walking across the room and through the kitchen, my gaze fell on a table that held stacks of framed photos. From where I stood, they all appeared to be of Oliver. I couldn’t understand how she had so many photos of him. They weren’t all recent, and there was a mixture of shots from every age.

Natasha walked forward. Noticing me staring, she lifted one of the photos from the far end of the table.

“He’s grown so fast,” she said, her eyes on the frame in her hand.

Sadness was heavy in her voice. Or was it regret? I wasn’t sure what to think as her head rose and her gaze shot over to me, a tear glistening in her dark grey eyes.

She set the frame back down, and for the first time I saw it: not a photo of just Oliver, but a family portrait, with Logan standing behind her and a newborn Oliver in her arms. Logan’s face held pride and love. He looked so young, so gentle. And Natasha looked…sad. Her smile was limp and forced as she looked down at the small bundle in her arms.