Just a simple text that said, “How are you? How’s Matteo?” And Ruby sat there for five full minutes trying to figure out how to answer. Pride said, “Don’t respond. You barely know this guy. You already showed him your worst moment. Don’t make it worse by being needy, but loneliness said he asked because he cares. Just answer. And she finally typed, “We’re fine.
Thank you for Saturday night. You didn’t have to do that.” And hit send before she could overthink it. Three dots appeared immediately. Then his response, “I know I didn’t have to. I wanted to. My daughter Sophie wants to meet the baby from dad’s date. Any chance you’re free for coffee this week?” and Ruby felt something warm and terrifying spread through her chest because this man wasn’t running away.
He was running toward her and that felt dangerous. They met Sunday morning at a park near Ethan’s house, one of those neighborhoods with actual sidewalks and trees that weren’t half dead from the Texas heat. And Ruby pulled up in her beat up Honda Civic that made a noise like a dying cat and saw Ethan standing there with a little girl who had blonde hair and braids in his same green eyes.
Sophie spotted Matteo in his stroller and literally sprinted over. Oh my gosh, Dad. He’s so cute. Can I push the stroller? Does he like swings? I’m Sophie. I’m nine. What’s his name? And the words came out in one breathless rush that made Ruby laugh for the first time all week. This is Matteo. He’s 18 months, and yes, he loves swings, but you have to push really gently, okay?” Ruby said, and Sophie nodded so seriously like she’d been given a sacred mission, and carefully started pushing the stroller toward the playground.
Ethan walked beside Ruby, hands in his pockets. “Sorry, she’s been talking about this non-stop since I told her about Saturday. I think she’s been lonely for a little kid to fuss over.” Ruby watched Sophie make faces at Matteo, who was giggling like it was the funniest thing he’d ever seen. She’s incredible.
You’re clearly doing something right. They sat on a bench while Sophie pushed Matteo on the baby swing, and Ethan said quietly, “Most days I have no idea what I’m doing. Mia was the good parent. She knew how to braid hair and pack lunches that other kids didn’t make fun of. I just try not to screw up too badly.” Ruby turned to look at him. I know that feeling.
Matteo’s dad left the literal day I told him I was pregnant. Said he wasn’t ready to be a father. So, it’s just been us. And half the time I’m winging it and hoping he doesn’t notice. Ethan’s jaw tightened. His loss. Matteo’s clearly awesome, even if he did pee on me that one time. Ruby burst out laughing because she’d forgotten she told him that story at the diner.
And Sophie came running over, dragging Matteo in his stroller. Dad, Ruby, can Matteo come over for lunch, please? I promise I’ll help watch him. And before either adult could answer, she looked at Ruby with these big, hopeful eyes and said, “My mom died when I was six. Dad’s been really sad for a long time.” But he smiled the whole way here talking about seeing you.
So, can you please come over? Ruby’s throat went tight and Ethan looked mortified. Sophie, we talked about boundaries and not saying every single thing you’re thinking. It’s okay, Ruby managed, blinking back tears. I’m really sorry about your mom, Sophie. Sophie shrugged with the kind ofmatter-of-fact sadness that kids have when they’ve had to grow up too fast.
Me, too, but dad says she’d want us to keep being happy and not just sad forever. So, we try really hard. They ended up at Ethan’s house, which was this normal suburban ranch with toys in the yard and a vegetable garden that was mostly weeds. And Ruby felt herself relax because it wasn’t some perfect Pinterest house.
It was lived in and real. And Ethan made grilled cheese sandwiches that were slightly burned on one side and nobody cared. 3 days later, Ethan called her at 8:00 p.m. right after she’d put Matteo down and said, “Weird question. Don’t hang up.” And Ruby said, “That’s a concerning way to start a conversation.” And heard him laugh.
My office manager just quit, moved to Colorado with her boyfriend. The job is basically answering phones and scheduling landscape jobs and keeping my crews from ordering 400 bags of mulch when they need 40. It pays 22 an hour and you could bring Matteo. There’s space in the office for a play pen. You interested? Ruby’s first instinct was immediate defensive anger.
I don’t need charity, Ethan. It’s not charity. His voice was patient. I genuinely need help. My foreman tried to schedule three different jobs at the same house on the same day last week. Another guy sent an invoice to the wrong client for $12,000. I’m actually desperate here. Ruby paced her tiny apartment.
Matteo’s soft breathing coming through the baby monitor. I don’t know anything about landscaping. Ethan said, “Do you know how to use Google Calendar?” And Ruby said, “Obviously.” And he said, “Can you tell the difference between a rose bush and a cactus?” And she said, “I’m not an idiot.” And he said, “Then you’re overqualified. Start Monday.
” She started Monday and within two weeks had reorganized his entire chaotic filing system, set up automated client reminders, and upsold three maintenance packages that brought in an extra $6,000. And Ethan walked into the office one afternoon and just stared at the color-coded schedule board she’d created.
“Is that are those actual categories? I can read this without having a panic attack.” Ruby looked up from where she was sitting on the floor playing blocks with Matteo. Your previous system was held together with sticky notes and prayer. This is basic organization. And Ethan said, “You’re incredible.” And the way he said it made her stomach flip.
They fell into this rhythm that felt dangerous in how natural it was. Coffee together every morning. Lunch at his desk or hers. Matteo playing on a blanket surrounded by plastic trucks. Sophie coming after school to do homework and teach Matteo his colors. And it felt like family in a way that terrified Ruby because she knew how fast family could disappear.
One Thursday afternoon in late September, Ethan’s in-laws showed up unannounced. Mia’s parents from Dallas and Ruby was at her desk with Matteo on her hip when they walked in and the temperature in the room just dropped. Ethan introduced them. Ruby, these are Mia’s parents, Frank and Diane.
This is Ruby, my office manager. and Ruby shook their hands and felt Diane’s eyes taking in every detail. The baby on her hip, her clearance rack blouse, her two young face, and Diane’s smile didn’t reach her eyes when she said, “How nice.” 20 minutes later, Ruby heard voices from Ethan’s office, not yelling, but that tense quiet arguing that somehow worse.
