Free When It's Right by Jennifer Ryan Page A

school, and then home to him when he was a baby.”
    â€œYes and no. I would take him to a sitter in the morning and go to school. Then I’d go to work, and then I’d pick him up. Our father couldn’t be relied on to pay the bills or buy food, so I got the paperwork to set us up for some social ser­vices, and that helped with the rent and food. I had to pay him fifty dollars to sign the papers. Whatever was left from the state checks, he drank, smoked, or popped. The money I made I used to buy Justin clothes, food, and diapers. Without me, he’d have ended up in the system or dead. Our father wasn’t capable of taking care of himself, let alone a baby. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he dumped Justin with the first person who’d take him. For a price, of course.”
    She struggled to get up the stairs. Blake stayed two steps behind her, and even though he had her bags in his hands, he was ready to catch her if she fell.
    â€œYou’ve done a great job raising him. Most fourteen-­year-­old girls are worried about their hair and if a junior or senior will ask them to the prom.”
    â€œI wasn’t a contender for an invitation to the dance, let alone a date.”
    â€œWhy?” he asked, genuinely surprised. “You’re beautiful. I can’t imagine any guy passing up the chance to take you out on a date.”
    She ignored the compliment. In her condition, let’s face it, he was just being nice. “Who wants to hang out with the girl who has a drunken drug dealer for a father and a baby to raise. I was a lot of fun on a Friday night. Poopie diapers, spit-­up, and formula. It’s real easy to lose a lot of friends when your excuse for not going to the movies is that you have a baby to put to bed.”
    â€œDo you regret it?”
    She reached the top of the stairs and stared at Justin jumping on the bed in his room to the right. The smile on his face was enough to bring fresh tears to her eyes. “Not a single moment. Look at him. He’s happy. I could have kept him and taken off and started over. It would have been hard, because I don’t have anything. What little was left in the apartment I pawned or left. I brought him here because I want him to have a chance at a normal childhood. I want him to have that, and I will do anything to make that happen.”
    â€œWhat about you, what do you want, Gillian?”
    The intensity in his gaze said her answer mattered. For the life of her, she had no idea. Up to this point, she’d just been surviving and keeping Justin safe. She looked up at Blake, and although he was too close, she shrugged. She didn’t step back and found that she didn’t feel the need. That was something new.
    Dee ran the water for Justin’s bath in the bathroom across the hall. The smell of vanilla and peaches bubblebath floated out on the air. Dee came to the door, a soft smile on her face as sweet as the fruity smell.
    â€œYour room is there. Go see if you like it. We’ll fix Justin’s room to suit him. I made up yours, but if there’s something you need, just let me know.”
    Gillian walked into the room and stopped short. It looked like something from a magazine. The walls were a soft, pale green with white curtains across the tops of the windows. Pictures of antique water pitchers filled with spring flowers hung on the walls. French doors led out to a small deck area with a turquoise café table and chairs. A walkway connected with the apartment above the garage and served as a cover for the first-­floor walkway that led to the garage and the stairs up to the second floor. She liked the design.
    The room smelled of the lemon oil and beeswax Dee used to polish the wood dresser and night table. A cream bedspread with tiny pink roses embroidered into the material covered the queen-­size bed. So very lovely, it looked soft and inviting. A green glass vase filled to overflowing