Chapter 10
In the distance one of his nephews screeched in fury, another burst into loud tears, accompanied by yips from the dog Skittles, and yells of, “Shut up, Bobby, Uncle Nolan’s still asleep.”
And there you had it. Episodes like this were why, during a painting session at Habitat for Humanity, when Michelle started talking about inviting “Fast Freddie” to be her roommate because she wanted to support his struggles to stay clean, Nolan had told an immediate white lie and said he heard Freddie hooked up with an old girlfriend, but that he desperately needed a place to stay.
Maybe Freddie really had given up his meth addiction, but Nolan wouldn’t bet on it. He didn’t like the idea of Michelle alone with a guy who could be wired out of his mind and reason at any time. Not counting last night, Nolan’s mind and reason kept pretty close company. He’d be better for a naive idealist like Michelle.
In fact, when he met her, he’d toyed with the idea that he could be very good for her, until his attraction faded naturally into brotherly affection. She was too childlike, emotions riding too close to the surface. Her sister…well, Nolan would like to date her, but only if she stayed asleep the whole time.
A startling shout close by, seven-year-old Sam and six-year-old Jacob burst around the corner, aiming invisible weaponry. “Bew! Bew! You’re dead from our laser guns!”
Nolan clutched his chest and slumped obligingly against the wall. He grinned at the kids, who were now vigorously debating whether or not plasma slime was fatal to aliens, then went into the bathroom to find pain reliever for his headache, which had just gotten worse. Outside the door more yells, then feet pounding down the hallway accompanied by scrabbling paws and shrill barking, more noise than an assortment of sixty-pounders should be able to make. Nolan grimaced and downed some extra-strength acetaminophen. He’d go along with his plans to move in with Michelle today, even if Dragon Lady was still there, spreading protective wings over her sister. Apparently she thought Michelle was unable to take care of herself. Which, now that he thought about it, was one thing they had in common.
He showered quickly, stepped over and around and through kids and a hyper dachshund to pack a couple of suitcases, his laptop and some books. All of which he loaded into car, declining Maria’s offer of help. She was busy in her enormous minivan, vacuuming the upholstery of crumbs and removing what looked like the contents of a McDonald’s restaurant trash Dumpster.
Apparently the kids had consumed their weight in chicken nuggets over the past two weeks; Maria was great about getting them out of the house so Nolan could have a peaceful dinner once in a while. He’d noticed her having to shush the kids more often than he was sure she did at home, and had felt badly about the guilty apology in her brown eyes.
They could all relax once he moved out. Nolan could handle Candace. He said goodbye to the boys, not that they noticed, still deeply involved in the finer points of annihilating each other, hugged Maria and drove west across town to Michelle’s, where he found himself on edge looking for Candace’s car.
Still in the driveway. He expected to be disappointed and wasn’t. In fact, he found himself strangely exhilarated, looking forward to the challenge of tangling with her again—figuratively, at least. He used his key to go through the side door into the kitchen and called her name a few times. No answer. In the bathroom? In the shower? Out on a walk? He grabbed his suitcases from the car and hoisted them up the beautiful dark wood staircase to the second floor and into the room where he’d spent the previous night.
Candace’s bag was still there. Which meant she still claimed the room Michelle said he could have because his large frame was more comfortable in a queen-size bed than one of the twins in the guest room. More conflict. He’d do the gentlemanly thing and offer to sleep in the guest room, but it made more sense for him not to have to change rooms after she left. He supposed if he tossed her things across the hall now, she’d pitch a fit that would deafen him.
“Oh. Um. Hi. Nolan.”
Candace. He spun around, prepared for battle…and found himself reacting to her not as the shrieking shrew, but the way he’d reacted to her asleep in his bed. Her eyes were wide, anxious but not hostile. She looked slightly unsure of herself. Her rich, dark brown hair was damp—yes, she’d been in the shower—and curled gently around her face; he remembered its fragrance. She wore jeans and a clingy peach-colored sweater that reminded him forcefully of what lay underneath. What was the point of that thought? She wasn’t merely not his type, she was his antitype.
“I, uh…” She looked down at his suitcases. “I thought maybe you’d changed your mind about living here.”
“Hoped I’d changed my mind?”
“Oh.” She laughed shortly. “No, of course not.”
“Liar.” He winked, thinking maybe he could charm her into not being a pain in his…move-in.
No acknowledgment of his humor. “I guess we got off to a…weird start.”
“I guess we did. Not all bad, though.” This time he managed a we-had-some-serious-fun smile.
Nothing.
She gestured to his suitcases. “You’re still planning to live with Michelle.”
Hadn’t they just settled that? He’d try humor one more time, then he was going to get annoyed. “Oh, no. Those hold my drug, alcohol and condom supply. I’m never without them.” No response. He sighed. “Yes, I’m still moving in. I need this place.”
“So…” She sent him a direct, challenging stare. She’d make a great middle-school teacher. Or cop. Or judge, jury and executioner. “What happened at your old place? Why can’t you live there anymore?”
He folded his arms across his chest. “It got too crowded.”
“Lots of roommates?”
He saw the suspicion and disapproval in her eyes. This guy can’t even afford one eighth of an apartment. What a piece of work. She was probably picturing drugs, orgies and animal sacrifices. What in their identical upbringing could cause Michelle to trust too much and Candace not enough? He was more curious than he should be.