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“What are you talking about, ‘get to know the kid’? She’s two years old. Maybe three. Or four. I don’t know.” I bag the mic then carry the stand to the closet where we store everything. We could leave it all up, but this is a family restaurant, and Adam worries too much about kids messing with our stuff.
“You could start there. Ask Hope how old she is. Better yet, ask the kid.” Bear follows, his steps heavy behind me.
“Then what?” I ask sarcastically. “Ask about her day? How work was?”
“Maybe not work, but you could ask about school. Or what she likes to watch on TV. Or if she likes Daniel Tiger.” He leans against the closet door frame, blocking my exit.
“Daniel who?”
“Daniel Tiger. It’s a kids’ show.” He crosses his arms, acting casual. Like this is a totally normal conversation for us to have when most of our conversations don’t go beyond hockey or music. Or, lately, Hope.
“How do you know this?” I squeeze past him, feeling way too claustrophobic being questioned in a closet.
Bear shrugs when I glance over my shoulder at him. “It’s not like Paradise isn’t crawling with kids. Half our friends already have a couple of them. I listen when they tell me stuff about them.”
I stop next to the counter and face Bear, pulling my phone from my back pocket. “All right Mr. I-Know-What-You-Should-Do…” I open Hope’s text and shove my phone in Bear’s face. “Tell me what to do about this.”
From half-way across the room, Britta picks up her broom and practically runs to where we are, and Stella follows.
“What to do about what?” she asks, going on her tiptoes to try and see over Bear’s shoulder.
I try to pull the phone away, but Bear takes it from me before I can. He lowers it enough for he and Britta to read it together. They both nod and hmmm, like everything makes sense.
But it doesn’t to me, because if I want to hang out with Hope, it should be obvious to her that I want to spend time with her kid—Charly—too. At least, sometimes. I mean, I’m the one who got her into Mom’s preschool and convinced Mom to help out with childcare too. Isn’t that enough indication that I might be willing to get to know her kid?
“You want to be with her, you’re going to have to go through the kid,” Bear states matter-of-factly before handing my phone back to me.
Stella nods in agreement.
“I told her to bring Charly tonight.” I glare at my sister. She was there. She knows I tried. “She said no. Do I do more stuff like that?”
“Dude,” Bear closes his eyes and shakes his head.
“Late-night band practice is no place for a child. She told you that.” Stella’s voice is surprisingly gentle, even though her words aren’t.
“You’ve got to make everything about the kid, not about you,” Bear adds. “Show Hope you know how to take care of people.”
His deep voice never sounds gentle, but his words usually do. So, even though I don’t like what he says right now, I appreciate his confidence in me.
“Yeah, okay. I do care about other people. I can show her that.”
“Caring about other people is different thantaking careof them,” Stella says. Again, the gentleness in her voice does not match the barbs in her words.
“I take care of other people,” I mutter, shifting uncomfortably.
Stella shakes her head while Bear finds whatever is outside the window very interesting. Meanwhile, I’m thinking about Mom picking up after me, even though I’m perfectly capable. I’m just being lazy.
At the same time, Adam, Evie, and Carson walk through the kitchen door. Adam shuts off all the lights except the ones in the entry way. “Time to go.”
“We’ve got to fix Seb’s Hope problem first,” Stella says.
Carson clasps his hands together, but Adam rolls his eyes while Evie narrows hers at me.
“Are you trying to win her back?” Carson asks excitedly.
“No,” I blurt at the same time Bear nods and Stella says, “Yep!”
“And what’s the problem?” Carson asks, even more animated.
