A Million Little Things (Mischief Bay, #3)

“I’m not. It was never about the ring, Chad, it was about commitment. It was about being a part of each other’s lives.” The argument was so familiar. Whenever she tried to take things to the next level, he always deflected her in one way or another.

“And here you are, doing it again. Oh, my God. You’ve been doing it for years.” She was talking out loud, but more to herself than him. “I would push for something and you would distract me with a different argument. Usually about how I was obsessed with getting married. I got embarrassed and immediately pulled back. The argument ended and life went on.”

She couldn’t believe she hadn’t seen that before. “You don’t want a relationship. You want a Zoe compartment in your life. An easy booty call with a bonus dinner. Worse, I allowed you to have that. I didn’t demand more. Because here’s the thing. I’m not wrong to want someone who actually wants to be involved with my life. Maybe it’s not what you want, and that’s fine, but you don’t get to make me feel bad about what’s important to me.”

She stood. A sense of empowerment left her almost light-headed. Chad grimaced.

“You’re not making any sense.”

She looked at him. Six months ago she would have sworn she loved this man. But the truth was he’d allowed her to be lazy. For too long, she’d let him be enough. Well, not anymore.

“I don’t want to see you again, Chad. We don’t want the same things. I wish you every happiness, but it won’t be with me.”

He stood. “You’re going to regret this,” he told her. “I was good to you.”

She walked to the door and held it open. “Goodbye, Chad.”

He looked like he was going to say something else, then shook his head and walked out. She closed the door behind him and glanced at Mason.

“I think that was impressive, don’t you?”

She got a tail flick in response.

“I’m going to take that as a yes.”





Chapter Nine

Jen pulled into the parking lot of the Learning and Growing Day Care Center on Maness Avenue. The building was large and painted in bright, primary colors. There were trees and lawn and the sound of shrieking children in a big playground off to the side.

According to her research, the day care center had gotten high marks from several parents, it was accredited and none of the employees had criminal records. While that wasn’t as much information as she would like, she figured she had to start somewhere.

It was three minutes before ten. She and Jack had a ten o’clock appointment with the director. Even though every bone in her body told her to keep Jack safe at home, a very small part of her brain whispered that it was possible that her son might enjoy hanging out with kids his age. Socialization was an important part of his development, and at the end of the day, it was all about Jack.

She opened the back door of her SUV. Jack smiled and clapped his hands as she unfastened him, then lifted him out. He was a happy, wiggling bundle. She set him on the ground, then took his hand and locked her car.

“This is going to be great,” she told him, hoping she wasn’t lying. “You’ll see. There will be lots of kids and enrichment and you’re going to love it.”

They walked to the main doors and went inside. There was a small reception area with an unmanned desk to the left and a hallway leading to several large rooms. As she watched, a boy about four wandered down the hall and no one seemed to notice.

Jack started after him. Jen picked him up.

“We’re going to wait here for our appointment with Angela,” she said cheerfully.

Two minutes later she still hadn’t seen an adult, so she started going from room to room. The first two were empty. The third had about fifteen toddlers with only two adults. The noise level was astonishing and chaos reigned.

“Hello,” she called. “I’m looking for Angela.”

One of the women glanced up. “Her office is at the end of the hall. Aaron, no, don’t throw the truck.”

“Thanks.” Jen glanced over her shoulder. “There’s a little boy wandering around out here by himself.”

The two women exchanged a look. One rolled her eyes and started out of the room. Just then one of the little boys hit another with a decent-sized toy truck. The blow landed squarely across the bridge of the nose and blood erupted along with shrieks of pain.

“Aaron, what did you do? I’ve told you and told you.”

Jen backed out of the room as the other children joined in the crying. Jack clung to her, looking worried.

No way, she thought grimly. This wasn’t day care, this was a badly run institution.

They returned to their SUV. Jen called Angela and got put directly to her voice mail. She left a message, canceling her appointment, then looked at the address of the second place she wanted to visit.

The Learning Academy of Mischief Bay was also accredited and had plenty of parent recommendations, but it was smaller. Jen had been worried there wouldn’t be sufficient staff, but it wasn’t like the bigger place had enough people around.

What she wanted to do was drive straight home, to the safety of Jack’s ordinary world. But Kirk’s words still burned, so she told herself she would give the second place five minutes and then she could be done.

The drive from one day care center to the other took less than ten minutes. This time she found herself in a quiet, residential part of town. The house with the sign in front was across from the playground at Founders Park. There were plenty of trees and nice lawns. The homes were older, but well kept.

Once again she collected Jack and walked to the front door. She rang the bell and was stunned when she heard a dog bark. Who on earth allowed a dog in a day care center? What if the kids were allergic? What if the dog bit someone?

She nearly turned back to her car, but before she could bolt, the door opened and a middle-aged woman smiled at her. “Can I help you?”

“I’m Jen Beldon and this is my son, Jack. Our appointment is at eleven, so we’re a little early.” Like forty-five minutes early, but Jen wasn’t going to admit that out loud.

“Of course. I’m Rose. Come on in.”