Okay, not ideal, but we could roll with it. “Okay, I’ll come pick it up.”
“Wait’s over an hour. It’s been a helluva night.”
Fuck this whole night sideways.
“Okay, thanks anyway, man.” I hung up and looked at Cindy. “Like anything else besides pizza?”
And when the tears started again… I panicked.
T A Y L O R
Fridays were usually busy at the Treehouse, but tonight we’d been slammed. I’d walked in for my shift to see the servers and bartenders all running their asses off and so many people that we had to be over our max capacity.
I hadn’t stopped moving since I’d clocked in. But as it approached ten, things started to calm down. Friday exhaustion had finally caught up to the after-work crowd, and they settled their tabs and headed home. It was still crowded, but it was no longer quite so manic.
I was taking a sip of water and catching my breath at the server’s station when Gail walked over.
“You have a table.”
I looked at her, my brow wrinkling. “I just got one. Isn’t it Jessie or Lana’s turn?”
“You were requested.”
“Oh.” No one had told me they were stopping in, but it wasn’t uncommon for it to happen. “Okay, I’ll go right over.”
“I’d hurry. They look…desperate. It’s a look I know well.”
Smirking, I set down my water and asked, “You know it because you wear it a lot or because you cause it in others?”
She thought for a second. “Both.”
I laughed at that. “Thanks, Gail. What’s the table number?”
“They’re sitting in the tree house.”
That stilled me. “But there’s no table in there.” Against one wall, there was a small wooden structure that resembled a tree house, but it was just a model. It wasn’t a place people could actually sit.
“The guy kind of begged. And since I love it when men do that, I caved,” she said.
I was sure my eyes widened in alarm as I took off in the direction of the house. When I got close enough to peek inside the doorway, all I could see was a large body crammed into what amounted to a wooden box. And there was a blond head just barely visible through the window.
Bending down, I poked my head in the doorway. “Ransom?”
The man looked utterly ridiculous jammed into the tiny house. His long, bulky limbs were folded in ways that seemed to defy human physiology. It was like a LeBron James hanging out in a kid’s playhouse.
Next to him sat a wide-eyed Cindy. She was looking at her surroundings in wonder, looking happier than I’d ever seen her.
“Taylor. Hey,” Ransom said.
“Hi, Cindy,” I said.
The little girl gave me a small wave before returning her attention to the walls of the tree house. I’d never looked in there, but the walls were painted with everything someone might find in an actual tree house.
“What’s going on?” I asked Ransom.
“I think bad parenting is a genetic trait,” he said.
“What?”
“So far this evening, I’ve lost a dog, failed to feed a seven-year-old in a timely manner, and had a panic attack at the first sign of emotional distress. I think my mom passed her crappy parenting ability down to me. As if it’s not bad enough I have her eyes and hair.”
“You’re great with kids. I see it every day.” I’d seen Ransom’s insecurities peek through from time to time, and it always made a fierce surge of protectiveness well up inside me. He was amazing, and I hated when he doubted that.
“I’m great at playing with kids. Maybe because I’m just a big kid myself. But actually caring for them…” He finished his thought by shaking his head.
Movement out of the corner of my eye stole my attention for a second. Cindy stood as best she could and looked at Ransom for a few seconds before stepping closer to him and wrapping her little arms around his neck.
He stilled for a moment, shock clear on his face, before he wrapped his large arms around her tiny frame and returned the hug.
I smiled as I watched the tender moment unfold in front of me. “I think you’re doing just fine.”
After a moment, Cindy pulled away and Ransom let her go immediately. She settled back on the floor and let her hands roam over the walls as if nothing extraordinary had happened.
Ransom still looked a bit stunned.
In order to snap him out of it, I cleared my throat. “So you haven’t had dinner? What can I get you guys? Cindy, we have nuggets, macaroni and cheese, and grilled cheese. Any of that sound good?”
She looked at me blankly. Ransom held out his hand toward her. “Do you want nuggets and fries?”
She stretched her fingers toward him and tapped his hand once.
“Grilled cheese?”
Two taps.
“With fries?”
Two taps.
He looked at me. “She’ll have grilled cheese and fries. And can I get a bacon burger? And two waters?”
Answering him was a struggle because my heart was fluttering wildly in my chest. How could this man ever think he wasn’t good at taking care of kids? He’d found such a simple way to give Cindy a voice. It was amazing.
“Absolutely. Coming right up.”
I was thankful our kitchen didn’t stop our regular menu until eleven, so I wouldn’t have to beg one of the cooks to rustle up a grilled cheese. I did ask if they could hurry the order, which they graciously agreed to do. I returned to them with their waters before checking in with my other tables.
Their food was done quickly, and I took it to them, wishing I could crawl in the house and hang out with them while they ate. But I made the rounds instead, refreshing drinks, delivering food, and dropping off checks.
It was shocking I managed to avoid making any mistakes, because my mind was firmly inside the tree house for the entire time Ransom and Cindy were there. Making a decision, I walked over to where Jessie was waiting for drinks from the bar.
“Hey, I was wondering if you’d want
