The Other Twin

“That’s screwed up.”

“Yeah.” Appropriate since Nathan was the family screw-up.

“What’s Cheryl helping you with?”

“Everything. Furniture, clothes, stuff.” He grabbed a sandwich and sat on an overturned bucket. “I’m not even sure what I need.”

“Just don’t mess with Cheryl.” Daniel crossed his arms, his muscles bulging. “She’s had a rough life.”

“I’m won’t.” Nathan’s teeth ground together. Of course Daniel would think the worst of him. “I don’t know squat about kids. That’s why she’s helping me.”

Daniel pointed with his sandwich. “Make sure you keep it that way.”

As if he didn’t have enough problems, now his brother was threatening him. He planned to keep his hands to himself.

Once Heather was out of treatment, Isabella would leave. His life would be normal again. Or as normal as his life could be.

* * *

“I’M HUNGRY,” JOSH SAID.

Cheryl checked the time. Just after five thirty. She peeled and sliced an apple, setting it in front of Josh. “This should tide you over.”

“I don’t want to go with him.”

“We offered to help.”

Shopping with Nathan wasn’t a good idea. She had to stop letting people take advantage of her.

But poor Isabella shouldn’t suffer because her dad was a rookie.

Cheryl took a deep breath. She would help Nathan make a home for his little girl. Then she and Nathan could stay away from each other.

Except that he lived next door.

She nibbled on an apple slice and worked on Nathan’s list. Maybe she could hand him the list and send him on his way.

Her thoughts were mean. When she’d arrived in Savannah, so many people had helped her. It was time to pay it forward.

“Why do we have to go with Mr. Nathan and Isabella?” Josh finished off the last apple slice and took the plate to the dishwasher.

“Because Mr. Nathan doesn’t know much about kids. He asked for our help.” She needed to remember this herself.

“But she’s four. How come he needs help?”

“I don’t know.” What mother wouldn’t tell the father of her child that she was pregnant? Maybe Nathan had done something that had stopped her from telling him? He drank a lot, like Levi.

There was a knock. Josh had the door open before she could ask him to wait.

Nathan held Isabella in his arms. His muscles were rigid. Isabella’s shoulders were stiff, too.

She picked up her purse. “Josh, let’s go.”

“Why do I have to come?” Her son pouted. “I’m not getting anything.”

“You’re getting dinner,” she reminded him.

They headed to her car. Josh climbed into his booster seat.

“Oh, shoot.” There was only one seat.

Nathan ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t think.”

Based on the gossip about Nathan around the B and B, that wasn’t unusual. He’d sold drugs in high school; always in trouble but not enough to end up in juvie. He’d even been kicked out of the family business. Dolley, the youngest Fitzgerald sister, laughed about the number of women he’d dated.

“I can ride without a booster.” Josh puffed out his chest. “I don’t use a booster on the bus.”

“This isn’t a bus.” But her son had a point.

They weren’t going far. She chewed her lip. “This is the only time.”

She held out her hand for the keys. “If my son isn’t in a booster, I’ll drive.”

Nathan handed the keys over without arguing. They were warm from his pocket.

She buckled Josh in and moved to the driver’s seat. Nathan fought with Isabella’s buckles.

“You have to snap here.” Josh pulled on the seat belt and locked Isabella into the seat.

“Yeah.” Nathan sat in the front seat. “Where to first?”

Cheryl handed him the list she’d created.

He glanced at it then shoved it into his pocket. “Thanks.”

He hadn’t bothered to read the list. Maybe he was illiterate.

“There’s a secondhand store nearby.”

“I don’t mind buying new.” Nathan rolled down the window.

“Let’s try this store first.”

She triple-checked that every intersection was clear before turning. Nathan tapped his fingers on the outside of the car, but she wasn’t going to rush.

“Did you finish the staircase?” she asked, tired of the silence.

“We have a couple more layers to go.” Nathan described how distressed oak would be glued as the last layer. “We ordered iron spindles. They’ll match the hinges still in the space.”