Page 23 of York

It was impossible to be a single parent and not think about the what-ifs. What if I got sick? What if I got hurt? What if I died? What would happen to my baby with no close family to take care of her? Would she wind up in the system? Would she be one of the lucky kids who got a loving home, or would she age out of the system with no family, or—worse yet—would she end up in an abusive family?

The whole death thing had been heavy on my mind for obvious reasons. Reasons that still hurt if I ran my hand over my ribs or turned too fast.

Knowing that if I died the horrific death that was seeming more and more likely lately, that Denali would still have one loving, attentive parent, that was an unexpected weight off.

It was a topic I was going to need to broach with York sooner or later. But I was enjoying seeing them interact, watching my little girl not just have a good time, but connect with her father too much to ruin it with a serious adult conversation.

I was just going to have to stay in the area long enough to find time to have that difficult discussion.

I had a lead on a job. It was just one rental cleaning job, but it was a deep clean. I low-balled the client at just two hundred, wanting to scoop the job out from under those who might pay what the job was really worth—which was more than double that. But I needed money fast. That would get me solvent for a little bit. And, hey, if that client owned other properties, I might secure myself a job doing cleanings between bookings for more consistent pay.

“You alright?” a deep voice asked, making me jolt and realize York must have been talking to me.

“Sorry. Spaced out for a minute. What’s up? Are you all done?”

“We’re getting pizza!”

“Oh, fun! I love pizza.”

“It might not be New York pizza, but I don’t think she has a particular palate,” York said.

“She’s going to dunk it in ranch, so I’d say you’re right,” I told him.

As we sat, Denny got distracted arranging her stuffed animals and talking to them, so York looked over at me.

“After this, I was wondering if you two would come with me somewhere real quick.”

“Can we?” Denny, not seeming to pay attention but clearly hearing everything, called.

“Sure,” I agreed, figuring he had plans for ice cream or some other shopping spree.

But after bellies were full, bumper cars were knocked together, rock walls were climbed, axes were thrown, laser tag was played, and tickets were turned in for a massive stuffed dinosaur, we loaded in our car to follow York on his motorcycle back toward Golden Glades.

Instead of going back to his house, or an ice cream shop or store, we pulled into an apartment complex. One of those big ones full of identical buildings that must make it impossible for delivery drivers to find the right one.

It was on the new end with nice landscaping and a big kids’ playground to the side.

“I thought York lived at the house with the tortoise and big bird.”

“I think he does. I’m not sure what we’re doing here,” I said. “Stay in your seat for a minute, munchkin,” I said as I climbed out and walked over to where York was pulling off his helmet. “York, what is this? Why are we here?”

As an answer, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys.

“What’s this?” I asked, ignoring the lurch in my chest, trying to remind myself that people didn’t get other people apartments. I was obviously misreading this.

“Keys to an apartment for you and Denali.”

“What?”

“Not to be creepy, but I looked into the motel with the pool and alligator sign, and that’s just not gonna work. I want you guys somewhere safe and clean.”

“So you rented us an apartment?”

“Look. I’m not expecting anything here. If you’re only in town for a couple weeks, then that’s fine. Well, I hope to see more of Denali than that. But I want to be clear that this isn’t coming with any kind of obligation. I just don’t feel right about the motel thing. And I have a lot of years of money I owe you. This is a small way of paying some of it back.”

I glanced at the building, heart flipping over. This was what I wanted, wasn’t it? A safe place for my little girl? A kitchen to cook her good meals in? Somewhere she could spread her toys out?

“It’s… a lot.”