The Other Twin

“I love you to the moon and back.” He hugged her.

This was her little boy. The one who gave hugs and told her he loved her. Why can’t he always be this way?

She dug in the box of his outgrown clothes and found a pair of PJs with ducks all over them.

“Those are mine.” Josh quacked.

Brad had always quacked when Josh wore those PJs. Cheryl couldn’t believe he remembered. “Isabella’s going to borrow them,” she choked out.

“Yuck. They’ll have girl cooties.” Josh wrinkled his nose.

She shook her head and moved back to the bathroom.

Nathan knelt next to the tub, filling the space.

“I guess we need to wash this hair.” Nathan grabbed the plastic cup she used for Josh and dipped it into the tub. “Ready?”

Isabella covered her eyes with her hands.

Nathan didn’t tip the girl back, just dumped the water over her head. And she didn’t complain. He picked up Cheryl’s shampoo.

“Not that one. It’ll sting.” She reached over his head and grabbed the baby shampoo from the corner rack. Her breast brushed the top of his head.

He took in a breath. She scrambled back.

“Here.” She held out the bottle, her face hot.

He had to stretch to get the shampoo. Squirting a little in his hand, he held it up for her inspection. “Enough?”

She nodded.

Nathan bit his lip and rubbed the shampoo through Isabella’s wet hair. His actions were so slow and gentle it was possible nothing was getting clean. Isabella kept her hands over her eyes.

Another time she would suggest he make shapes with Isabella’s soapy hair. Josh used to like being a dragon or a lion. He’d spend his bath time roaring.

Her son was only six and Cheryl was already reminiscing about his childhood.

She got closer, making sure she didn’t bump into Nathan. Hard when he took up so much space. “Why don’t I help you rinse?”

“Thanks.” He let out a deep breath.

“Lean back.” She tipped Isabella down. Nathan filled the cup and carefully worked the soap out of Isabella’s hair.

After sitting her up, Cheryl found a comb and ran it through the girl’s wet hair. “Is everything clean?”

“Yup,” Nathan said.

“I brought some PJs.” She handed Nathan the towel. “Let me find a toothbrush.”

By the time she came back, Nathan was struggling to pull the top over Isabella’s head.

Cheryl checked on Josh. “Time to call it a night, sport.”

“But they’re on the lake and they’ve lost their paddle.” His voice was thick with sleep.

“You’ll save them tomorrow.” She climbed up and kissed him. “Love you.”

“Love you.” His eyes closed. “Don’t tell my friends a girl slept here.”

“Humph.” She set the book on the nightstand and clicked off the light.

Enough light spilled from the hallway to guide Nathan to the bunk bed. Cheryl pulled back the sheets on the lower bunk and Nathan set Isabella in the bed. She brushed a kiss on Isabella’s forehead. “Good night, angel.”

Isabella whimpered and thrashed, as if searching for something.

“Does she have a blanket or a toy that she sleeps with?” Cheryl asked.

“God. How would I know?” He stumbled out the door. There was rustle of paper. He rushed back into the room. “I found the blanket she was carrying, but it’s filthy.”

Isabella grabbed it, hugging it to her cheek. Nathan winced.

“It’ll be okay.” Cheryl started to pat his shoulder, but that was too intimate in the darkened room. “You can wash it tomorrow.”

Nathan knelt and touched his daughter’s shoulder. “Night, Isabella.”

Cheryl didn’t stay to see if he hugged or kissed the girl. Heading back to the kitchen, she filled the kettle for her evening cup of tea.

Without turning, she knew from the way the air changed in the room that Nathan stood in the doorway. She asked, “All tucked in?”

“Yeah.” He paused. “How much would I have to pay you to keep her?”

“Your daughter?” Horror raced through her like a wildfire.

“How much would you charge to take care of her for the next couple of months?”

CHAPTER FOUR (#ude503103-cdd4-5a28-985d-341a1794c188)

MAYBE THIS WAS a mistake, but Nathan was desperate.

“You’d pay me to take care of your daughter?” Cheryl’s face filled with shock.

“You’re an expert.” He held up his hands.

“I can’t—”

“Can you think about it?” he interrupted.

“No.” Cheryl looked at him like he was sludge from a sewer line. “She’s your daughter.”