Authors: Tia Giacalone
Fox had a way of not only looking at you, but looking through you to everything that was underneath, like he was doing right now. It was unnerving and exhilarating and downright fucking scary.
Damn right you can only see Avery,
I wanted to tell him.
Sometimes I think you’re the only one who ever has.
* * *
My body jolted awake, and I lurched into a sitting position on the couch, pushing a throw blanket to the floor.
What the hell?
I glanced around, completely disoriented, and saw that I was alone in the living room. The thrift shop cuckoo clock told me it was four thirty in the morning.
My first instinct was to run immediately to Annabelle’s room to check on her, and when I got to her doorway I saw that she was sleeping peacefully, cocooned in her pink comforter. I sagged against the wall for a second, trying to get my bearings.
At some point during
Rocky
, I’d fallen asleep on Fox. Well, hopefully not
on
Fox. But maybe. I imagined a semi-NSFW scenario for about twenty seconds until I realized how horribly inappropriate last night – tonight? – actually was. I fell asleep with a virtual stranger in the house. Making my way back to the couch, I slumped down and put my head in my hands. What was I thinking?
You were thinking that he is kind, and generous, and not at all a creep
, I reassured myself. Still, it didn’t rank up there with the best parenting decisions I’d ever made. Yes, there was something about Fox that made me feel inherently safe. Lately my gut had been telling me all kinds of things, and I wasn’t listening to half of them. Maybe now was a good time to start.
I started to pick up the blanket, and a folded sheet of computer paper fluttered to the floor. I picked it up and recognized Fox’s bold scrawl.
DIDN’T WANT TO WAKE YOU. CLOSED UP THE HOUSE, CHECKED ON ANNABELLE. SEE YOU SOON (TOMORROW?) I HOPE — FOX
He hopes. I hope. Hell, Annabelle probably hopes too. I tucked the note into my pocket, checked the front door lock, and headed to my bedroom to undoubtedly toss and turn for a couple hours while I replayed the evening in my head. Trouble doesn’t even begin to cover what this was turning into.
* * *
As soon as it was socially acceptable to call Heather – thank God she was an early riser – I picked up the phone and dialed.
“When are you coming home?” I might’ve sounded slightly frantic, but Heather knew me well enough to filter.
“Oh Lordy. What happened now?” Heather’s amused voice had not a hint of sleep to it. She’d probably been up for hours frosting things.
“Nothing. Everything,” I sighed. “Fox.”
“Mmmhmm. I thought so. Do you want to tell me about it now, or can it keep for a couple days until I get back?”
“He babysat Annabelle for me.”
“What? You let him watch her?” I knew she’d be surprised but if I wasn’t mistaken she also sounded pleased.
“Well, kind of. It was at the diner. Claire bailed, and I was in a bind… They really hit it off.” I smiled, thinking of the two of them hunched over Fox’s tablet.
“Mmmhmm,” Heather said again. The amusement was still clear.
“You think I’m ridiculous,” I accused her.
“No, sweet pea. Not ridiculous.” She paused. “Just guarded. And you have a right to be. But this man, he’s different, and you know it.”
“Different from Chase, you mean,” I said. I’d come to terms with the fact that Heather might never fully warm to the idea of me and Chase, but that didn’t mean I liked it. However, if I was being completely rational, I knew that any time your friends or family didn’t like your boyfriend, it was a pretty big red flag to be heeded.
“That too. Probably from anyone we’ve ever known,” Heather said.
“He
is
different,” I admitted. “And I think I like it.”
“Look, Avery, we all know that Annabelle is the most important thing in your life, as she should be.” Heather’s voice thickened with emotion as she spoke. “You trust him with your baby. Think about that.”
I didn’t need to consider her words long to know they were true. “But I still don’t really know him,” I tried to protest.
“You keep insisting that. What are you afraid to find out?” Heather asked.
What if he’s too good to be true? What if I get attached and then one day he up and leaves?
I had about a million responses to that question but I went with a blanket fear. “What if I’m wrong?”
“Get to know him, then. And try not to do anything stupid. I’ll be home in two days.”
Chapter 10
I decided to take Heather’s words to heart and, over the weekend, Annabelle and I spent time with Fox. Of course, it was all at the diner when he happened to be working but, just the same, I definitely felt like I knew him better after the weekend was over. When any thoughts of Chase crept into my head, I quickly banished them, reminding myself that while my motives might not be especially pure, my actions were innocent.
Besides, Chase was still away on his long camping weekend, and I hadn’t received so much as a text from his general direction. I refused to feel guilty when I was so obviously an afterthought, if I even entered his mind at all.
After our almost-sleepover, Annabelle and I popped in for lunch while Joy and Fox worked the mid-shift. The day was warm but not too humid, and the diner was slow with just a couple tables occupied. After we settled into our usual booth near the kitchen, Fox came out to say hello.
“Ladies,” he said, smiling shyly. “I was hoping you’d come by today.”
Well. There it was. If I had concerns about awkwardness after our movie night, I needn’t have worried. Fox was putting his cards on the table.
“Sit down with us, Mr. Fox!” Annabelle grabbed his hand and tugged. Apparently they were both just going to say whatever they felt today.
“Annabelle,” I admonished her. “Mr. Fox is working. Don’t pull on him.”
“Sorry,” Annabelle said, releasing his hand. Fox’s shy smile turned into a full grin with dimple.
“I’d love to sit with you, Annabelle, but who would make your grilled cheese?”
Annabelle thought about that for a moment. “Okay. But you’ll come back, right?”
“I promise,” Fox told her seriously. “BLT, Avery?”
I smiled, secretly pleased that he knew what I usually had for lunch. “Yes, thanks. With–”
“Avocado. I remember.” Fox speared me with one of his knee-wobbling looks before winking at Annabelle and heading back into the kitchen.
When our plates appeared a few minutes later, Fox sat down as well with his coffee cup in hand. I looked at Annabelle’s food and smiled. Fox had cut her sandwich into triangles, which never failed to amuse her, and along with her apples he’d added a side of bright green broccoli.
Good luck with that,
I thought. I’d been trying to get Annabelle to eat visible greens for the last year with little progress.
When he saw me eyeing the veggies, he raised his eyebrow at Annabelle. “I’m trying something new with our vegetable of the day, and I figured who better to sample them than our most
selective
customer?”
Admittedly, I got a little distracted whenever Fox spoke for longer than a couple words, and his full sentences nearly sent me over the edge. I blinked a couple times before I registered his entire speech.
“Any foray into food groups that don’t include cheese will count as a win in my book,” I laughed.
Annabelle poked at the broccoli before looking up at me. “Mama, I don’t think I like this.”
Before I could respond, Fox interjected smoothly. “Annabelle, I was hoping you could do me a favor. I made some magic broccoli, but I don’t know if it’s working.”
She regarded him dubiously. “Magic?”
She had reason to be skeptical. I’d tried just about every trick I could think of to get her to eat her veggies, and so far nothing had worked. If she even managed one bite I practically threw her a party. These days I resorted to hiding them in sauces or other foods so she didn’t realize what she was eating. Fox was pretty ballsy to try this broccoli idea, especially since I had no clue if he completely understood the iron willpower of an unconvinced preschooler.
“Magic,” Fox nodded. He didn’t say anything else, simply sipped his coffee, but I could tell Annabelle was intrigued. She peered at the broccoli a little more closely.
I think we were both holding our breath when she selected a piece and popped it into her mouth. Frankly, I was a little surprised she gave in that quickly. Maybe Fox’s nonchalance was the key. I gripped my napkin tightly in my hand, ready for her to spit it out.
Please don’t let it be into Fox’s coffee,
I prayed.
I don’t think he’s ready for that.
Annabelle chewed it slowly, swallowed, and smiled. She glanced around and immediately looked disappointed. “I don’t see any magic,” she said sadly.
“You don’t?” Fox asked. His dimple peeked out from around his cup as he smiled into his coffee. I hoped he had a good plan in mind, because otherwise the fallout from this experiment could be detrimental to our budding relationship.
I mean, his and
Annabelle’s
budding
friendship
.
“No,” she said, giving the broccoli a distrusting glare.
“Well, did it taste good?” Where was he going with this?
“Yes,” she admitted. “Like lemonade!”
I deduced that Fox must’ve put some sort of citrusy sauce on the broccoli, but it looked fairly plain. I don’t really care what he used. Rainbows, unicorns, pixie dust… I’d season it with anything if Annabelle would eat it.
“That’s the magic,” he said. “Here, let me take your picture. Sometimes it’s hard to see at first, but then once you know what to look for, you can find it anywhere.”
Mystified, I watched him pull his phone out of his pocket and snap her picture. A couple taps to the screen and he turned the phone so we could both see. Annabelle’s face smiling out at us, surrounded by slightly transparent sparkles and swirls of all colors. Fox winked at me while Annabelle exclaimed over her picture.
“Look Mama! Look at all the magic!” Her little face was beaming as she grabbed another piece of broccoli and stuck it in her mouth.
Of course. Want your kid to eat her vegetables? There was an app for that. Or a guy who would make you one. I looked over at Fox, sitting comfortably on the other side of the booth while Annabelle ate broccoli and chattered a mile a minute about what other kinds of magic she could now see with her own eyes.
He met my gaze and shrugged slightly, quirking up the side of his mouth in his half smile.
Once you know what to look for, you can find it anywhere.
Or maybe where you least expected. Wasn’t that the truth.
We sat with Fox until his shift was over. He excused himself a couple times for quick orders from the kitchen but largely, we had the place to ourselves until Billy came to relieve him. Joy took Annabelle to the counter and let her color to her heart’s content on the printable coloring pages, so in between admiring Annabelle’s handiwork and Fox fulfilling his orders, we talked.
At first, it was mostly small talk – school, the diner. We had an easy rapport, and I finally felt comfortable enough to voice some of my curiosity.
I flexed my hands around the coffee cup that Fox brought me. I had to be careful how much I admitted I already knew about him, but I don’t think he was fooled.
“So, you’re from California?” I asked casually.
The eyebrow. “Mostly. With the Army, you move around a lot. My parents knew they wanted to end up out west, so when my dad retired, we put down roots.”
“How old were you?” I had him all to myself, and I was going to ask everything I wanted to know.
He thought for a moment. “High school. My brother Lucas was a little older, ready to start college.”
A brother? Sensory overload. “Did he go to UCLA too?” As soon as the words were out of my mouth I realized my flub. Fox had never told me he went to UCLA. I’d learned that from Chase – and the internet.
“No,” he said with a hint of a smile. “Stanford.”
I laughed. “I think I’ve heard of it. What does he do now?”
“Personal security.”
What? Like a bodyguard?
I waited for him to elaborate, but when he didn’t, I pressed forward and changed the subject.
“Are you looking forward to going back? To the Forest Service and firefighting, I mean.” I wasn’t sure what I wanted to hear. The truth, probably. Even if it was that he would be leaving soon.
Fox’s expression changed, all amusement gone, his eyes softening as he looked at me. “Not today.”
Before I had a chance to respond, Annabelle ran over with her latest drawing. “Look Mr. Fox! It’s you!”
I loved my child very much, but her artistic talents were definitely that of a three year old. Like, for example, I wouldn’t ever be letting her illustrate my wedding gown and veil a la Angelina Jolie – crayons and couture do not mix. The portrait of Fox looked like a cross between a large watermelon and an abstract jack-in-the-box, but we praised her anyway.
“Can I keep this, Annabelle?” Fox asked her.
“Yes, Mr. Fox,” she beamed.
“Will you sign your name on it for me?” Fox handed her a crayon and indicated the corner of the page.
Annabelle screwed up her face in concentration as she “signed” her name on her drawing. She’d mastered the letter A fairly well but the rest was open to interpretation. Poor baby, I’d saddled her with a long and romantic name for a preschooler.
After she scooted back to her seat at the counter, Fox cleared his throat, tapping his fingers on the tabletop. The intimate spell from earlier was broken with Annabelle’s art show, and in a way I was glad. I didn’t want to think about what would happen when Fox finally had to leave Brancher, and it seemed like he didn’t either.
And then there was the Chase situation. He was due back the next day, and we had an Annabelle-free date scheduled, but I wasn’t really looking forward to it. Honestly, I felt like my disinterest had less to do with Fox and more to do with my growing uncertainty about Chase and the future of our relationship, if there was one.