Читать книгу Family Ties: Family Ties / Promise Of Grace - Bonnie Winn K. - Страница 15

A few days later, Flynn entered his daughters’ room. Once again he admired all of Cindy’s handiwork, but still he felt she had gone overboard. She claimed she wasn’t spoiling the girls, but he was worried about all her overly generous gestures. From experience he knew it wasn’t wise to grow up believing life was always this kind.

He reached down to pick up a discarded pair of pajamas the girls had left behind. As he stood, he noticed a new addition to the room. A picture of Jesus.

All the betrayal of his past choked him. It was one thing to spoil the girls, it was another to tamper with their beliefs.

Hearing Cindy’s steps in the hall outside the room, he called out for her. “Would you come in here?”

The echo of footfalls on the wooden floor paused, then turned into the room. “Yes?”

“What’s this?”

She glanced around the room. “What?”

“Don’t play games. This picture.”

Cindy looked back at him wryly. “Well, I think that’s pretty obvious.”

“What’s it doing in here?”

She pointed to another picture on the wall—one filled with cartoon characters. “I’m decorating their room.”

“The picture of Jesus isn’t a decoration. It’s a statement.”

“I think that’s an exaggeration. The girls aren’t even three years old yet.”

“The younger the mind, the easier it is to brainwash.”

“Brainwash?”

“Influence, then.”

“Flynn, they’re babies!”

“Then why the picture of Jesus?”

She hedged for only a moment. “I like the idea of Him looking over them, protecting them.”

“That’s a fairy tale,” he told her flatly, deep anger and remembered pain darkening his thoughts.

Shocked, she stared at him. “You can’t mean that!”

“Don’t delude yourself, Cindy. Especially for a craze you’ll forget by next month.”

Hurt flashed in her eyes. “Is that what you think of me? That I’m chasing fads like a teenager?”

Exasperated, unwilling to face the pain in her expression, he threw up his hands. “All I asked is a simple question.”

“Then I’ll give you a simple answer. Your lack of faith is going to hurt your daughters. If you’re having a crisis of faith—”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he responded, with only the slightest grip on his anger.

She studied him, opened her mouth, then closed it again. Nodding, she turned away.

“Cindy?”

She glanced at the picture on the wall. “I’ll take it down later. But I can’t guarantee that you won’t see it somewhere else in the house.”

Unable to watch her leave, he turned toward the window. Then he heard the sound of tiny steps, then a tug on his jeans.

Flynn glanced down. “Hey there, Alice.”

“Up?” she asked.

He obliged, picking her up until they were at eye level.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, sweetie.”

“Why you hate Jesus?”

He hadn’t known a fist to the gut could be delivered by a guileless toddler. “What makes you say that?”

Alice screwed up her precious face. “Me heard fight with Cinny. I wanna have Jesus here.”

“But it’s only a picture.”

“How come, then?”

Why not indeed? It was only a picture, it had no power over them. Over him.

Yet the torturous question accompanied him as he went through the motions of the day. It was late afternoon when he finally sought Cindy out again.

She was in the kitchen, preparing a huge casserole.

“That’s quite a lot of food,” he commented, not certain how to begin this discussion.

“For tonight,” Cindy replied. Then she glanced up, catching his puzzled glance. “Remember the people coming over tonight? I told you about them.”

“Oh, right. I’ll clear out pretty soon.”

Exasperation flooded her expression. “Flynn. I invited them over to meet you.”

He’d completely forgotten, caught up in hours of rare contemplation, a prisoner of a past he’d never outrun. “Of course.”

A buzzer went off and she walked to the oven, pulling out a fragrant tray of rolls. Searching for a place to put them on the crowded tile counter, she glanced up at him. “Did you need something?”

He moved aside the casserole dish at the end of the counter, making a place for the rolls. “I’ve been thinking…”

Uncharacteristically, she didn’t jump in with words to ease his way.

Which made him feel even stiffer, more uncomfortable. “It’s about this morning…the picture. You can leave it in their room.”

She studied him silently, again surprising him. Flynn wondered where all her fiery words had gone. Especially when she only nodded.

He considered an apology, but the place inside him that held those words had been dammed up long ago. “Do you need any help?”

She seemed to consider this, too. Then she gestured toward the fridge. “You could put the salad together.”

“Sprouts included?”

But her usual ready laughter didn’t surface. “Whatever you’d like to put in it. The vegetable drawer is pretty full.”

They worked in silence for a while. Flynn wasn’t certain how to break the strain, how to bring the sparkle and laughter back to Cindy’s face.

She glanced up at the clock. “Yipes, I still have to shower and change my clothes before everyone gets here.”

“I can finish in here,” he offered, surprising himself as much as Cindy.

“Well, I did want to tidy up—”

“I can take care of it,” he insisted.

She took a final glance at the food, then nodded. “The table’s set and—”

“Go.”

“And I—”

“Go.”

And she did.

It didn’t take long to clean up the kitchen, then check on the girls who were making Play-Doh teddy bears on the faded, terrazzo terrace. Because of the tall, wide windows he’d been able to watch them as Cindy had been doing before he arrived.

He remembered the first time he’d tried to feed the girls and clean up while watching them. It had never occurred to him to put them in the safety of the fenced backyard. An old wooden toy box beneath the awning held a large and varied collection of toys to keep them occupied.

His daughters looked content, having assimilated into Cindy’s life and home as though they’d always been here. He thought of the gathering Cindy had planned for the evening, suspecting she hoped to accomplish the same for him. Knowing that hadn’t been possible since he was a child, equally certain it would never be possible again.

There was something about a group of people who’d known each other long and well. Their chatter filled the air, snatches of conversation that melded from person to person. It seemed everyone was talking at once, but in a good way. No one was excluded, no one hanging outside the fringes of the group.

And due to Cindy, Flynn was included, as well. She’d introduced him to the collection of people who ranged greatly in age and background. Ruth Stanton, a perky seventy-two-year-old woman, welcomed Flynn as warmly as did people of his own age, and some much younger.

Having met Michael and Katherine Carlson before, Flynn felt a little more comfortable with them. Michael in turn introduced him to Tom Sanders, clearly a good friend, also a casual, warm person. Then he met Gregg Rosentreter, Roger Dalton, Don Westien and Gary Simpson. All the men, obviously good friends, were welcoming.

The fact that it seemed everyone at the party attended Rosewood Community Church wasn’t lost on Flynn.

Seeing Cindy heading toward the kitchen, Flynn followed her, relieved to see no one else was in the room. “How’d you go about assembling the guest list for tonight?”

She thought for a moment. “Well, you’d met Michael and seemed to like him. I thought you might have something in common with the other guys he’s friends with—also, they’re people I especially like.”

“No other motive?”

Frowning, she narrowed her eyes. “Such as?”

“They all go to your church.”

She relaxed a fraction. “That’s where I met my friends.”

“All of your friends go to your church?”

A touch of exasperation entered her expression. “It’s not a requirement. I’m friends with some of my neighbors, other people I’ve met in town. But, yes, my closest friends are those from the church. You’ll notice I did invite most of the people who live on this street, as well.”

“To throw me off the scent?”

Something flickered in her green eyes, a flash she quickly disguised. “The sole purpose of tonight’s party is to introduce you to people in the town you’ve chosen to call home. I’m sorry it bothers you that so many of them attend my church. But I could hardly walk the streets and invite total strangers.”

Looking at her, the evidence of her temperament, as fiery as her hair, challenged him. Again, he couldn’t help comparing her to Julia, remembering how his late wife would never have confronted him. “No, I don’t suppose you could. Cindy, I do appreciate your effort but—”

“You didn’t ask for a party. I know. Just me being me again.”

“Cindy—”

The tall swinging door pushed open. “Here you are,” Katherine exclaimed. “Can I help do anything?”

Flynn watched as Cindy reluctantly pulled her gaze away. “Yes,” Cindy replied shortly. “Keep Flynn entertained. I’ll take some more punch into the dining room.” The door swung smartly behind Cindy as she exited.

Uncomfortably Flynn studied Katherine, wondering if he was about to get a sermon.

Katherine strolled over to the oven, opening it to peek inside. “Cindy makes killer crab puffs.”

“Pardon me?”

“Her crab puffs—they’re great. I know she’s into granola and nuts, but she can cook up a storm of gooey, good stuff when she wants to.”

“Oh. Well, we’ve gotten used to her cooking.”

Katherine laughed. “Better you than me. When she and I go out, I pick the restaurant and you should see her put away a hamburger and shake.”

Flynn suspected Katherine wanted to talk about more than food, yet he stuck to the safety of the subject. “The main course tonight is vegetable lasagna.”

“Now that’s one of her healthy creations I love.” Katherine closed the oven door. “But that’s our Cindy, a mass of contradictions.”

He should have escaped right after the crab puff remark. Now he was stuck. “Yeah, I suppose so.”

“How many trust fund kids do you know who devote their lives to volunteer work instead of shopping and gliding around the world?”

Flynn stiffened. Apparently Katherine didn’t know her friend as well as she thought. “For the time being, anyway.”

But Katherine didn’t immediately rebut the reply. “So, that’s how it is.”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing. I’m glad you and your daughters are getting settled in.”

“Well, we will when my house is finished.”

“Of course. It’s always difficult to blend two lives.”

Flynn remained cautious. “Cindy’s been patient, but we’re intruding on her routine.”

Katherine shrugged. “I haven’t heard that from her. It’s a difficult time for you and your daughters and I know she’s thrilled to be able to help out. But you know Cindy, she just wishes she could do more.”

Flynn studied her, wondering at any hidden meaning. “I’m not sure what that would be.”

Katherine’s smile, however, was enigmatic. “She probably doesn’t, either.”

The kitchen door was pushed open again. Without looking at Flynn, Cindy walked over to the oven.

“They looked almost done when I checked them,” Katherine offered.

“Thanks.”

Katherine nodded, then left the room.

The remaining silence was a palpable thing.

Flynn felt forced to end it. “Katherine says you make killer crab puffs.”

“Yeah, well, Katherine tends to be a bit prejudiced.” Cindy withdrew the baking sheet, transferring the appetizers to a porcelain tray. “We’d better get back in there.”

“Cindy?”

She didn’t meet his eyes. “Yes?”

“I seem to have a way of irritating you on a daily basis. I guess I’m just not used to someone taking control of things, offering so much. It was really great of you to arrange this party tonight.”

This time, she did raise her eyes, her green eyes darkened to the color of sheltered, unlit forests. “So what else is new? I’ll never be like Julia and everything I do is a daily reminder of that.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Cindy walked toward the door, one hand on the old wood, prepared to push it open. “Yes, it is. Even if you don’t want to admit it.”

Flynn followed her slowly. Why did Cindy think he would want her to behave as Julia had? Julia was his wife and Cindy was…Cindy.

Walking into the crowded parlor, he was immediately swept into the group of people. Michael made a point of including him in his conversation with Tom Sanders.

It was a friendly gathering. Everyone seemed genuine, most made hospitable offers ranging from baby-sitting services to help on the house he was building. It was rather amazing.

“We start softball practice this Saturday,” Michael was telling him.

“I’m not sure I have time to—”

“We don’t take no for an answer. Just ask Michael,” Tom Sanders added.

Michael’s grin was wry. “I can vouch for that. It’s a lot of fun. And we can always use another player.”

Flynn looked from one determined face to the other. “Why don’t we see how Saturday shapes up? I don’t want to dump the kids on Cindy for the day.”

“Are you kidding?” Tom asked. “She’s nuts about your girls.”

Puzzled Flynn stared at him. “And you know that…how?”

“She talks about them constantly,” Tom replied. “She’s as proud of them as any parent.”

Unconsciously Flynn stiffened. “She’s their aunt.”

Tom shrugged. “I wish I’d had an aunt like Cindy, someone who makes everything seem like a treat. I think Cindy could make fun out of a pile of sticks in the rain.”

Flynn studied Tom, wondering if the man had more than friendly feelings for Cindy. “So, you and your wife have been friends with her for a while now?”

“I’m not married,” Tom replied. “Not anymore.”

Which meant he and Cindy could well be more than friends. Funny, he didn’t seem like her type. Flynn shook away the thought. It wasn’t any of his business whom Cindy chose to date. Yet he found himself observing Tom, evaluating the other man.

As the evening drew to a close, all the departing male guests reminded Flynn of the upcoming weekend softball game. And, oddly, he was tempted to go.

When the door closed behind their last guest, Flynn watched as Cindy began to quietly collect bowls and trays. He joined her, filling his hands with the delicate china Cindy treasured. “So what do you think about their insistence that I play softball?”

“I think you should do what you want to.”

Flynn angled his head. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

She turned briefly. “How would you know?”

“What?”

“You don’t know me at all. How could you possibly think you would recognize when I’m being myself?” Not waiting for an answer, she disappeared into the kitchen.

Flynn was left holding the delicate china, as deceptively fragile, it seemed, as Cindy herself.

The softball field was much like Rosewood itself, old-fashioned and appealing. A small shack sold ice-cream cones, canned soda and homemade hot dogs.

Cindy made sure the triplets held hands, an uneven line of rambunctious little bodies. She’d been surprised that Flynn had agreed to come to this first practice. Reluctant to the point of reticence, she had expected him to find a thousand excuses not to go.

She wondered if Michael’s unscheduled, unexpected visit the previous night had made a difference. Busy with the triplets, she hadn’t heard their discussion. And then this morning, Flynn had announced his intention to attend the game.

Seeing her friend, Cindy waved at Katherine, who waved back while angling her head in Flynn’s direction.

No need to be subtle, Cindy wanted to shout. But Flynn hadn’t seemed to notice. Relieved, she walked the girls around the small field.

Tom approached with a grin. “So, how are the four most beautiful women in town?”

Cindy winked, recognizing Tom’s harmless teasing.

He responded by tugging her pert ponytail, making the girls giggle.

Since Tom was much like a brother, she only shook her head in bemusement.

He knelt down, bringing his gaze eye level with the triplets. “So. You going to clap and cheer for Daddy or for me?”

“Daddy!” they chorused loyally.

He whistled. “Tough crowd.” Standing back up, Tom reached for Cindy’s cooler. “I’ll carry this over to the bleachers.”

“Thanks. That gives me at least one free hand.”

“Cute kids, Cindy.”

“Yeah, they really are.”

Tom glanced down, seeing that the girls weren’t paying attention. “Lucky break Flynn decided to move to Rosewood.”

Cindy withheld the sigh that had been building inside since Flynn’s first mention of relocation. “Yeah, lucky.”

Tom slowed his steps. “Everything okay, Cin?”

She met his concerned gaze. “I finally have some family here. It’s spring. What could be wrong?”

He hooked his arm with her free one. “Remember, you can tell me if something’s wrong. I have a sturdy shoulder.”

She glanced up at him with a heartfelt smile. “So you do.”

“Cindy?” Flynn snagged her attention.

Startled, she glanced at him, not aware he’d walked over to their little group. “Yes?”

He glanced at her arm, still loosely linked with Tom’s. “Are you sure you can handle all the girls by yourself?”

Tom discreetly dropped her arm and self-consciously she pushed at the hair that fell across her forehead. “Of course. Why?”

Flynn glanced once again at Tom. “They can be a handful.”

She shrugged. “I brought treats.” She motioned with her head to the swing set, slide and seesaw in the park beside the softball field. “And there’s plenty to keep them busy. Besides, they can’t wait to see you play.”

“Daddy play!” Beth demanded.

Flynn scooped her up. “In a few minutes.”

Mandy tugged at his pants leg, as well, but Alice hung on to Cindy’s hand. Flynn obliged by picking up Mandy, giving both girls a hug, then putting them back down.

“We have to let Daddy go practice,” Cindy explained.

“Me play, too,” Beth demanded.

“No,” Cindy told her firmly. “This is Daddy’s day.”

“She could walk to the field with me for a few minutes,” Flynn replied.

Cindy wanted to thump him. And he thought she was spoiling them? “I spent quite a bit of time explaining to the girls that this is a grown-up game, that little girls don’t get to play.”

“I didn’t intend to let her play.”

“No, but I’ll spend the entire time keeping her off the field if you take her out there.”

“That’s an exaggeration,” Flynn replied.

Tom cleared his throat. “I’d better get back to the practice.” He held up the cooler. “I’ll put this on the bleachers.”

“Thanks,” Cindy replied, wondering why Flynn was scowling as though he had ants in his shoes.

“Sure,” Tom replied, walking away quickly.

“What’s with you?” Cindy asked.

Flynn’s scowl didn’t lighten. “Problem?”

“You just chased away one of the nicest people here. Some special reason why?”

“You tell me.”

Puzzled, Cindy grasped Alice’s hand a little tighter. “So, are we going to grapple over taking the girls on the field?”

He looked at her for a long moment. “No, I don’t guess we will.”

Then his gaze shifted toward Tom. “Nothing to argue about at all.”

Confused, Cindy stared after him as he stalked on to the field. And for the life of her, she couldn’t imagine why he hadn’t taken to Tom.

“Men,” she muttered.

“Men?” Beth asked.

“Yes, sweetie. We’ll talk more about them when you’re older. For now we’ll stick to Cinderella and Prince Charming.”

Mandy drew her brows together. “Like Daddy?”

Yep. However, Cindy was the only girl in the world whose glass slipper wouldn’t fit. At least not for Prince Flynn.