Misty and the Single Dad

They had not a lot else.

‘You travel light,’ she said, awed.

‘Not any more, we don’t.’

‘We’re staying here,’ Bailey said, sounding scared again. The minute they’d walked in the door he’d grabbed his teddy from his camp bed and he was clutching it to him as if it were a lifeline. The house was big and echoey and empty. This was a huge deal for both of them.

Bailey had spent most of his short life on boats of one description or another, either on his father’s classic clinker-built yacht or on his grandparents’ more ostentatious cruiser. The last year or so had been spent in and out of hospital, then in a hospital apartment provided so Bailey could get the rehabilitation he needed. He had two points of stability-his father and his teddy. He needed more.

But where to start? To have a home…to own furniture… Nick needed help, so it was entirely sensible to ask advice of Bailey’s schoolteacher.

He wasn’t crossing personal boundaries at all.

‘You really have nothing?’ she asked.

‘We’ve been living on boats.’

‘Is that where Bailey was hurt?’

‘Yes. It’s also where Bailey’s mother was killed,’ he said briefly. She had to know that-as Bailey’s teacher, there was no way he could keep it from her.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, sounding appalled.

‘Yeah, well, we’ve come to a safer part of the world now,’ he said. ‘All we need to make us happy is a couch.’

‘And a dog?’

‘No!’

‘No?’ she said, and she smiled.

She smiled ten seconds after he’d told her his wife had died. This wasn’t the normal reaction. But then he realised Bailey was still within hearing. She’d put the appalled face away.

Bailey had had enough appalled women weeping on him to last a lifetime. This woman was smart enough not to join their ranks.

‘A girl can always try,’ she said, moving right on. ‘Do you want all new stuff?’

‘I don’t mind.’

‘Old stuff’s more comfortable,’ she said, standing in the doorway of the empty living room and considering. ‘It’d look better, too. This isn’t exactly a new house.’ She stared around her, considering. ‘You know, there are better houses to rent. This place is a bit draughty.’

‘It’ll do for now.’ He didn’t have the energy to go house-hunting yet. ‘Do you have any old stuff in mind?’

She hesitated. ‘You might not stay here for long.’

‘We need to stay here until we’re certain Banksia Bay works out.’

‘Banksia Bay’s a great place to live,’ she said, but she was still looking at the house. ‘You know, if you just wanted to borrow stuff until you’ve made up your mind, I have a homestead full of furniture. I could lend you what you need, which would give you space to gradually buy your own later. If you like, we could make this place homelike this weekend.’

‘You have a homestead full of old stuff?’

‘My place is practically two houses joined together. My grandparents threw nothing out. I have dust covers over two living rooms and five bedrooms. If you want, you can come out tomorrow morning to take a look.’

‘Your grandparents are no longer there?’

‘Grandpa died years ago and Gran’s in a nursing home. There’s only me and I’m trying to downsize. You’re settling as I’m trying to get myself unsettled.’

He shouldn’t ask. He shouldn’t be interested. It wasn’t in his new mantra-focus only on Bailey. But, despite his vow, she had him intrigued. ‘By getting a new dog? That doesn’t sound unsettled.’

‘There is that,’ she said, brightness fading a little. ‘I can’t help myself. But it’ll sort itself out. Who knows? Ketchup might not like living with me. He might prefer a younger owner. If I could talk you into a really big couch…’

‘No,’ Nick said, seeing where she was heading.

‘Worth a try,’ she said and grinned and stooped to talk to Bailey. Bailey had been watching them with some anxiety, clutching his teddy like a talisman. ‘Bailey, tomorrow I’m coming into town to pick up Ketchup. If I spend the morning settling him into his new home, would you and your dad like to come to my house in the afternoon to see if you can use some of my furniture?’

‘Yes,’ Bailey said. No hesitation. ‘Teddy will come, too.’

‘Excellent,’ Misty said and rose. ‘Teddy will be very welcome.’ She smiled at Nick then. It was a truly excellent smile. It was a smile that could…

That couldn’t. No.

‘Straight through the town, three miles along the coast, the big white place with the huge veranda,’ she was saying. ‘You can’t miss it. Any time after noon.’

‘I’m not sure…’

‘Oh, sorry.’ Her face fell. ‘You probably want all new furniture straight away. I got carried away. I’m very bossy.’

And at the look on her face-appalled at her assertiveness but still…hopeful?-he was lost.

Independence at all costs. He’d had enough emotion, enough commitment and drama to last a lifetime. There were reasons for his vows.

But this was his son’s schoolteacher. She was someone who’d be a stalwart in their lives. He could be friendly without getting close, he told himself, and the idea of getting furniture fast, getting this place looking like home for Bailey, was hugely appealing.

And visiting Misty tomorrow afternoon? Seeing her smile again?

He could bear it, he thought. Just.

‘We’ll be extremely grateful,’ he said, and Bailey smiled and then yawned, as big a yawn as he’d ever seen his son give.

‘Bedtime,’ he said, and Bailey looked through to the little camp bed and then looked at Misty and produced another of the smiles that had been far too rare in the last year.

‘Can Miss Lawrence read me a bedtime story? She reads really good stories.’

‘I’d love to,’ Misty said, smiling back at him. ‘If it’s okay with your dad.’

It was okay, he conceded, but…

Uh oh.

There were all sorts of gaps in their lives right now, and this was only a small one, but suddenly it seemed important-and he didn’t like to admit it. Not in front of a schoolteacher. In front of this schoolteacher.

‘We don’t have any story books,’ he conceded.

What sort of an admission was that? He’d be hauled away to be disciplined by…who knew? Was there a Bad Parents Board in Banksia Bay? He felt about six inches tall.

They did own books, but they’d been put in storage in England until he was sure he was settled. Containers took months to arrive. Meanwhile… ‘We’ll buy some tomorrow,’ he’d told Bailey.

‘I have story books,’ Misty said, seemingly unaware of his embarrassment.

‘We’ve been living in a hospital apartment. Story books were provided.’

‘You don’t need to explain,’ she said, cutting through his discomfort. ‘My car’s loaded with school work-there’ll be all sorts to choose from. If you would like me to read to Bailey…’

They both would.

Forget vows, he told himself. He watched Bailey’s face and he felt the tension that he hadn’t known he had ease from his shoulders.

For the last twelve months the responsibility for the care of his little son had been like a giant clamp around his heart. He’d failed him so dramatically… How could Bailey depend on him again?