Chaser (Dive Bar #3)(32)



Joe nodded. “True.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.” I shrugged. “You know, a little time away might be good…”

*

“Nice tan,” Jean said, three weeks later.

So I may have run away to California to hide for a while. Like a manly man. Or like an absolute ass, I don’t know. “Did you get the flowers?”

“Yes. Thanks.” She had to raise her voice to be heard over Ada’s wails. She stood in the doorway to her apartment, kind of gently jiggling the baby in her arms. “When did you get back?”

“A little while ago.” Two minutes, give or take a couple of seconds. Long enough to dump my bag at my place, hear the crying, and come knock on her door. I was truly pathetic. So much for staying away. If the woman kneed me in the balls and left me crying on the floor, it’d be no less than I deserved.

“Did you have a good vacation?” she asked, voice a little cool.

“Sure, great,” I said, playing it down.

She just nodded, saying nothing.

“Sorry I didn’t get to say good-bye.” I raised a shoulder, hesitating. “Pat and Joe didn’t have much going on and were able to cover for me. Made sense to just go. Quickly. You know, business wise…”

“Right.”

“Lydia’s going to have some time off now that I’m back,” I said. “It’s not just me that’s getting away for a while. Regular breaks make for better mental energy and everything. Particularly for people in management positions. Very important to step back and refresh yourself … yeah.”

She just blinked.

“What’s up with her?” I cocked my head, getting a look at Ada’s tiny screwed-up face. “Man, she’s grown.”

“It’s been three weeks.” Jean smiled tiredly at the baby. “As for why she’s crying, I think our country’s current political situation is really getting to her, you know? As a woman, she feels underrepresented and forgotten. It’s upsetting.”

“She’s a sensitive kid.”

“Yeah. That or she’s overtired and can’t settle. Take your pick.” Jean yawned, mouth splitting wide. The bruises under her eyes and general pallor of her face were disturbing. She looked seriously run-down in her yoga pants and flannel shirt. Not that she didn’t also look kick-me-in-the-ass gorgeous. Funny how sometimes you can really see people properly only when they are at the end of their tether. As if all the wear and tear just strips away the superficial crap.

She stepped back. “Well, good to see you.”

“I missed you two,” I blurted out, then frowned.

Jean’s head shot up, surprise in her gaze. “You did?”

“Yes. A lot. Much more than I thought I would.”

“Oh.” Her smile was slow, even a little wary. “We missed you too.”

“Good. I mean…” My brain searched for words and came up empty. I had no damn idea what I meant.

“Why are we standing in the hallway? Come on in.” She stepped back, wandering into her apartment. “Oh, wait. Scratch that. I forgot that the hallway is much nicer than my apartment.”

“I don’t mind. Really.”

She bit her lip. “Just be warned, it would seem my neat-freak days are far behind me.”

And the woman wasn’t lying. Inside, the coffee table was buried beneath a pyramid of laundry, while empty take-out containers from the Dive Bar littered the kitchen counter. At least Nell was making sure she ate.

“It’s bad, I know.” Jean didn’t sit, walking back and forth amongst it all with practiced ease. Ada kept on crying. “Everyone in the building has invested in earplugs. I hope someone thought to warn you.”

“It’s fine.”

Another yawn.

“How have things been going?” I leaned against the wall. Easier than finding somewhere to sit.

“Honestly?” she asked, patting the baby’s butt.

“Always.”

“S. H. I. T.”

I winced.

“She won’t sleep for more than a couple of hours. At first it was because I had trouble feeding her.” Jean’s shoulders slumped. “She wouldn’t latch on right and my nipples were like something out of a horror movie, all cracked and bloody. Also, I say ‘nipples’ in front of random men now. It’s kind of my thing.”

“We all need a thing.”

This time the smile was even smaller than the last. “Now I think she’s just gotten into a bad routine.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. “I totally get why they use sleep deprivation as a form of torture now.”

Jesus. While I’d been partying in California, having a great time despite continuing to live the celibate life for some reason, Jean had been going through hell. And I’d promised to help her. I was the fucking worst. Seriously, the woman should have slammed the door in my face.

“Unfortunately, breast-feeding was a total disaster,” she said. “I really wanted it to work and the midwives and even a specialist were trying to help me, but…”

“You did your best.”

Her gaze narrowed. “How do you know?”

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