The Nanny with the Skull Tattoos

Chapter 2

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Three days after his mother told him it was time, Max packed his and Chloe's few belongings into his beat up old Taurus, strapped his daughter into her car seat, and left his childhood home. His little girl kicked the seat behind him the whole way, and he drove with a box in his lap, but he was free. In a weird sort of way, it felt good to move out.

When he dropped the last box on what would eventually be the living room floor, Max turned to Chloe. She sat on the floor by the double windows, a toy clutched in one of her hands. "Well, Chloe, here we are. Home, sweet home." He looked around the nearly empty room, frowning. His mother had let him take his desk, twin bed, and all of Chloe's furniture, but he had nothing else. "Lonely home," he amended.

"Daddy," Chloe said, and turned away from him.

Shrugging, he ambled into the kitchen to start unpacking. It took three minutes. He spent two minutes trying to open the box, and another minute putting his daughter's baby food into a cabinet. Stomach growling, he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

"Guess I'll order some pizza," he said. "Chloe, are you going to eat some pizza?"

His daughter gave no response, babbling happily to herself as she smashed two plastic action figures against each other in the living room.

He called his favorite pizza place, ordered a large pepperoni, and returned to the living room to watch Chloe. Then, his phone still in his hand, he scrolled through his contacts. "I think I know who'll take that third bedroom," he told Chloe.

"Hey, asshole," his best friend, Riley, answered in her best fake British accent.

"Hey, yourself," he told her. "I just ordered a huge pepperoni pizza. Wanna split it?"

She snorted. "Short on cash?"

"Nope," he said. "I was hoping you'd come keep my bed warm. I'm all alone in my new apartment and it's scary by myself."

"Maybe some other time," she said, laughing. "Wait, what? You got your own apartment?"

"If you bring beer, I'll let you get drunk and sleep on my floor." He stretched his legs out, pointing the toes of his scuffed Nikes toward the ceiling.

"I wish I had my own place," Riley said. "My parents are killing me."

Grinning, Max gave Chloe the thumbs up sign. "Well," he said, drawing out the word. "I happen to have a third bedroom, empty and ready for you."

"Wow," Riley said. "I don't know what to say. This is so. . . sudden."

Max laughed. "Seriously, though." He wished she was sitting right across from him. It would be easier to read her face.

"Seriously?" she said.

"Why not?" Riley had been his only high school friend to stick around after Nicole got pregnant. "You, me, Chloe. We'd be a happy family. And you could help me fill this place with furniture. Don't you get a discount at Kohl's?"

"Barely," Riley said. "We don't sell much furniture, anyway. When did you move out of your parents' house?"

Max lifted his eyebrows. "I guess I didn't tell you." He filled her in, feeling a little bad for not calling her first. Luckily, Riley had never been the needy kind of friend that demanded every detail of his life. They just worked.

"That's crazy! Your mom just kicked you out? What is she gonna do, use your room as an office?"

"If that was the case," he said, "she could have used one of the guest bedrooms, or the spare room they're using for storage."