“Of course she does. She’s obviously a very smart girl.” Victoria wagged her finger, comically shaking Zoe’s hand in good-bye. Then she caught Ford watching and blushed. Gently, she extricated her finger from the baby’s grip and walked in the direction of the front door.
He took that as his cue to leave.
Victoria held open the door for Nicole and Zoe, nodding in good-bye. Ford followed behind, pushing the stroller. He paused in the doorway and raised an eyebrow. “A saint?”
She gave him a sweet smile. “I believe the words you’re looking for are, ‘Thank you, Victoria.’”
Always with the sarcasm.
But on this occasion—as much as it killed him to admit it—she happened to be right. He had no idea what had transpired here between her and Nicole, but nevertheless, she’d taken in his sister and niece and for that . . . he owed her his gratitude.
Most unfortunately.
“Thank you, Victoria.”
She raised an eyebrow, as if waiting for the punch line, and then looked surprised when none came. Shifting uncomfortably in the doorway, she gave him a dismissive wave. “Whatever, you’re welcome.”
It was a funny thing, he thought. When she wasn’t being snarky or throwing barbs at him, there wasn’t anything to deflect his attention away from the fact that she was a beautiful woman. Like right then, the way her full lips curved upward as she peered up at him with those warm, chocolate-brown eyes.
“So, we’re just . . . hanging out here in the doorway, I guess?” she said.
Yep, so much for that moment.
* * *
ONCE INSIDE HIS place, Nicole took a seat on the couch and settled in to finish feeding Zoe. Ford bided his time, changing out of his work clothes and throwing on a T-shirt and jeans. When he came out of the bedroom, he found Zoe lying on a blanket in the middle of his living room while Nicole rinsed out the baby bottle in his sink.
He got down on the floor next to Zoe, shaking the giraffe toy above her chest. Her eyes widened and she reached for it, trying to grip it with her hands.
“You should’ve seen the meltdown she had at Victoria’s. It was pretty epic,” Nicole said from the kitchen.
Ford could easily believe it. The last time he’d been over at Nicole’s apartment she’d been trying something called “sleep training”—which, if all the crying and hollering was any indication, Zoe had been none too thrilled about. “Mom would probably tell you it’s payback. You weren’t exactly an easygoing baby, either.”
Nicole put the clean bottle into the diaper bag and sat down on the floor next to Ford and Zoe. “Have you talked to Mom this week?”
“I drove out and saw her yesterday afternoon.”
“How’s she doing?”
“You know Mom. Keeping herself busy. She gave me a box of Dad’s things that she thought I might like to have. She has one for you, too.” Ford had stashed his box in the closet, but hadn’t looked at it yet.
Wanting to get down to the business at hand, he nodded in the direction of Victoria’s place. “So? Want to tell me what was going on in there? Mom’s worried about you. We both are. I’ve been trying to reach you ever since the funeral.”
“I know, I’m sorry. Things are always so crazy, I feel like I never get a chance to catch my breath. Between balancing work and Zoe, I just . . .” Nicole swallowed, and her eyes filled with tears. “I think I’m doing a terrible job at everything. Especially being a mom.”
Ford’s voice softened, seeing his sister cry. “Nic . . . that’s not true. Why didn’t you come to me earlier about this? You don’t have to stretch yourself so thin with work. I can help you out with money until things settle down.” He wasn’t rich, but he certainly made enough to help out his niece and sister.
“I know. But a temporary fix isn’t the solution. It’s not like you’re going to support Zoe forever—nor would I want you to. And it’s not just about the money, anyway.” She looked at him. “Obviously, I’ve been thinking a lot about Dad ever since the funeral. The things you said in your eulogy . . . it really hit me hard, hearing those stories. I spent so much time being angry with Dad, or fighting with him, or being resentful that he just couldn’t get his shit together, that I’d forgotten about a lot of those good moments. Like, remember how great he was with Zoe that first day he and Mom came to see her in the hospital? He held her practically the whole time, just talking to her and telling her stories about the days you and I were born. But instead of simply enjoying the moment, the whole time I kept thinking, ‘Why can’t he be this way all the time?’”
“I know.” The truth was, Ford had been thinking exactly the same thing that day at the hospital. He’d spent nearly his whole life only partly able to enjoy good moments like that with his dad, because he’d always been waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Nicole looked down at her daughter, who was happily gumming the giraffe toy. “Zoe has a father out there. Maybe he’d be a good father, maybe he wouldn’t. But after losing Dad, I feel like I owe it to her to at least give her the chance to have some nice moments like that.”
Ford was all for making his sister’s ex-boyfriend accept financial responsibility for Zoe. Hell, he’d been pushing Nicole to sue the jerk for child support since the day Zoe had been born. But beyond that, for both his sister’s and Zoe’s sakes, he needed to be a voice of reason here. “He fled the state when you told him you were pregnant, Nic,” he said gently. “As good as your intentions are in wanting Zoe to have a relationship with him, it doesn’t sound like he’s exactly a stand-up guy. Financial responsibility is one thing, but you can’t make a man be a father.”
Nicole took a deep breath. “Okay. So, you have to promise that you won’t get all big brother judge-y when I tell you something about me and Zoe’s dad.”
He was a little offended by whatever she was implying. “Hey, give me some credit here. My best friend is a woman—I think I’m pretty damn enlightened when it comes to relationships and the female of the species. I promise you, nothing you say will be something I haven’t heard come out of Brooke’s mouth.”
“I got pregnant after a one-night stand, and I have no clue who my baby’s father is.”