That sounded perfect, she thought wistfully, wondering if it was possible. Could she really depend on him, trust him, know that he would be there for her?
Leaning on other people hadn’t been a big part of her life. Not since high school, when both parents had left her—in one way or another. As she and Raoul weren’t involved emotionally, the situation was completely different from what it had been with her boyfriends. If he chose to leave, it wouldn’t be a big deal. Right?
Which was what it came down to. Depending on someone she wasn’t sure would come through for her.
“It’s an interesting idea,” she began. “And I appreciate it. But why would you do this? What’s in it for you?”
“I’ll be there,” he said firmly, “because I like you. And because you’re doing a good thing. Maybe because there are things in my past that didn’t work out the way I wanted them to, and this will make me feel better about them.”
“How do you know what I’m thinking?”
“I just do, and I’ll be there.”
A part of her wanted to believe. Being able to depend on someone, especially while she was pregnant and worried about giving birth to three kids and raising them, would be heavenly. But the rest of her knew that leaving was what most people did best.
“Look at it this way,” he said. “Use me shamelessly. Then if I do walk away, you get to be right. A win-win.”
An interesting point. He sounded really sincere. Not totally sane, but sincere.
“Okay,” she said slowly. “Maybe.”
“I’ll take it.” He leaned in and brushed his mouth against hers.
Again, the light kiss had her entire body reacting. She wanted to haul him against her and have him put some back into it. Instead, she contented herself with remembering to breathe.
He stood. “Let me know when it all starts and I’ll be there.”
She wasn’t clear on the implantation process, but she was pretty sure it was something she didn’t want him to see.
“In the waiting room,” he amended at her look of squeamishness.
“Okay. That would be fine. I’ll let you know.”
He left.
She continued to sit on her chair, feeling both stunned and a little relieved. Maybe this would be for the best, she told herself. Having someone else to help. Having someone else looking out for Crystal’s babies. And if he got bored or distracted and walked away, so what? She’d been abandoned in ways Raoul couldn’t begin to imagine. He couldn’t possibly hurt her. So she was safe. And being safe was really what mattered most.
RAOUL TRIED TO BE UP at camp nearly every day. He timed his visits for recess or lunch so he could spend time with the kids on the playground. It was fun to toss a ball around with them. For the most part they were a little small to throw or catch a football, but a baseball worked well and Josh’s sporting goods store had donated several balls and mitts.
When he arrived, the kids were still eating lunch. He went to see Dakota.
She was one of those neat people who had trays and color-coded, arranged files. Sort of like Pia’s office, but without the huge calendar or the posters proclaiming Founders Day and Kissing Booth—$1 a kiss.
“How’s it going?” he asked.
“Great.” She motioned for him to enter.
He took the chair next to her desk.
“All the classes are in place and the kids are settled. We’re okay on desks, still a little short on blackboards and books. So there’s some creative sharing going on. It’s probably good for the students to see that life means being flexible.”
He chuckled. “Disaster as a teachable moment.”
“Sure. Why not?” She pulled out a folder and glanced through it. “We should have an estimate on the cost to repair the school by the end of the week. If you hear a collective groan about ten Friday morning, it’s the school-board-and-city-council joint meeting, where they get the actual numbers. I don’t think it’s going to be pretty.”
“Isn’t there insurance?”
“Sure, but it’s unlikely to make the school whole again. I’m sure there’s state money, too, but I see a lot of fundraising in our future.”
He remembered the fun Saturday afternoon in the park. “Pia puts on a good party.”
“She has a lot of experience.”
A group of yelling kids raced past her open office door. “Lunch must be over,” he said.
“Apparently.”
More kids ran by.
“Does the noise bother you?” he asked. “Do you want an office somewhere else?”
Dakota laughed. “I’m one of six. I’m used to noise.”
“Loud, happy childhood?”
“Absolutely. The boys came a couple of years apart, but when we were born, Mom got smacked with three babies at once. I can’t imagine how she did it. I know my dad helped and the neighbors pitched in, but triplets? Somehow she managed.”
He thought of Pia. She would have the three embryos implanted at the same time. If all of them survived, she would be looking at triplets, as well.
“So you’re used to the chaos,” he said.