“It’s all right,” Mick said to her, then followed Derek out despite her protests.
For all of two minutes, she fretted, imagining every kind of hostile confrontation. But when Mick came back in he was shaking his head and almost laughing.
“What? What did he want?”
“A list.”
She searched his face, stymied. “A list of what?”
“Everything you might need.” Her mouth fell open. “He also wanted to know if there was anyplace safe around here for him to park his car since he plans to be hanging around a lot. I told him he could use the garage.”
“But you don’t let anyone use the garage!”
“Yeah, but he has a really nice car. I wouldn’t want it to get stripped.”
She could imagine what kind of car he had: expensive. What was it about males of all ages that made them car crazy?
Mick picked up a huge slice of pizza and took a healthy bite, then went into the kitchen for plates. “You want juice to drink?”
Absently, her thoughts on Derek, she said, “Please.” She made it a habit to drink juice, since it was healthier for the baby. Real juice was her one small luxury.
They ate in near silence, and Angel was aware of the passing minutes. When she caught Mick watching her watch the clock, he grinned. “I’m not about to leave until he comes back. He raised hell with me because the door was unlocked when he got here.”
Indignation rose, hot and fierce, crowding out her other, more conflicting emotions. “He yelled at you?”
“No, he just told me I should be more careful. I, um, gave him your key. He’s having a couple made, so I can have one, and he can have one. That way, he said, you can keep your door locked, and you won’t have to get up to let us in if you’re resting your leg or feeding the baby or something.”
“Didn’t you tell him you already had a key and that he didn’t need one?”
“It didn’t seem like a smart thing to do.”
He was still grinning at her. She shook her head. Never before had she seen Mick take to another person this easily. “Well, I’ll tell him. If he actually does come back.”
“Oh, he’ll be back, all right.” Mick tilted his head at her. “Are you going to tell him what’s been happening?”
“Not right away. I have to find out first if he’s going to get involved with Grayson, if I can count on him to help without having to worry that he’ll sue me for custody. I can’t risk having Grayson around that family. It’s my bet the threats start with them. His mother, according to him, is as far removed from the grandmotherly type as a woman can get, and the stories he shared about his brother don’t even bear repeating they’re so dreadful. And,” she said, when Mick’s mouth twitched, “before you start grinning again, I don’t need his help with anything but protection and you know it.”
He handed her another piece of pizza. “For a little bitty single lady you’ve done okay. But you know as well as I do that things are getting worse for you. First the job, then your old apartment, then the accident. That bit with your car still makes me sick when I think of it. You can’t keep up. You never get enough rest and your leg hurts all the time from overdoing it. You need to let it heal. Hell, you need therapy.”
Angel had long ago quit trying to curb Mick’s colorful vocabulary. Now she just rolled her eyes. “I’m getting more papers to type up every day. Pretty soon, everything will even out.”
He only shook his head. He didn’t really approve of the late hours she spent transcribing papers for local businessmen and college students, but he helped her anyway by picking up the papers and dropping them off. Like her, Mick knew she had few options.
They both looked up when they heard the doorknob turn. It was locked as per Derek’s instruction. He looked supremely satisfied as he used the key to get in. “Much better.”
Angel glared at him. “You’re not keeping a key to my apartment, Derek, so forget it.”
He didn’t look daunted. “Mick, you want to help me carry a few things in?”
“Sure.” Mick was already on his feet, setting the half-eaten slice of pizza aside. He looked anxious, and Angel imagined he was every bit as curious as she was.
Then she remembered herself. “Now wait a minute! I don’t want or need anything from you! I already told you that.”
Derek went out the door whistling. Mick followed him, trying to hide his smile. Angel hadn’t seen him grin this often in one day since she’d met him. They returned with several boxes and various brands of disposable diapers. Angel could have wept. Using cloth had been so tiring and so much added work, but the expense of disposables was out of the question.
As they carried them in, Derek explained. “The woman at the store told me some kids are allergic to some kinds. You can tell me which works best and I’ll pick up more of them. But this ought to hold you for now.”
He set the boxes in the living room, a huge wall of them, then tiptoed into Grayson’s room where she couldn’t see him. The apartment was tiny, only the two small bedrooms, a closet-sized bath, then the open area of the living room and kitchen, separated by half a wall which cornered the refrigerator. Angel seethed, even more so when he came back out carrying the almost filled diaper pail. “Where are you taking that?”
“To the dumpster.” He made a face, turning his nose away. “I left the clean ones in there in case you wanted to use them for dust rags or something.”
She started to get up, but he was already out the door again and she slumped back in frustration.
By the time he and Mick finished carrying things in, she had full cupboards, a stuffed refrigerator and freezer, a bathroom that practically overflowed with feminine products, and a sore throat from all her complaining, which Derek blithely ignored.
Not only did she now have the basics, but she had luxuries she hadn’t recently been able to afford. Had Mick told Derek that she missed conditioning her hair and giving herself facials? That she missed creamy lotions and scented bath oils? Or had he figured it out on his own? She wouldn’t ask. He’d simply have to take it all back; she wouldn’t be bought. Material things weren’t what she wanted or needed from him.
Mick dropped the last large sack behind the couch and straightened. “I’ve got to get going. I have to be at work in fifteen minutes.”
Derek came in and handed him a newly purchased ice-cold soda, holding his own in his other hand. Another luxury she’d avoided. She had milk, water, tea and for health reasons, juice. The soda looked so good, her mouth watered.
Derek propped his hip on the back of the couch, close to her head, and Angel forgot about the soda to scoot away. Derek winked at her, knowing damn good and well she didn’t want him that close, before turning to Mick. “Where do you work?”
“Part of the week at the garage on the corner. The weekends at the Fancy Lady. It’s a neighborhood bar. I wash dishes there.”
Mick had his chin jutted out, his obstinate expression that dared Derek to make a wisecrack. Instead, Derek appeared thoughtful. “Aren’t you too young to work in a place like that?”
“I look old enough. No one ever questions it.”
“I suppose not.” Again, he stuck out his hand. “I appreciate your help today, Mick.”
“No problem.”
“You know, if you ever wanted to work just one job, for decent pay, I have a friend who’s looking for someone.”
Mick narrowed his eyes, skeptical. Few things had ever been given to him, and when something good came along, he generally