Читать книгу Daddy For Hire - Joey Light - Страница 10

Abby walked to the back door, pushed the screen open and shouted over the splashing water for the boys to come in.

Jack listened to their halfhearted protests as he grabbed a few more cookies and went back to his seat at the table only a little ashamed at how many peanut-butter cookies were landing in his gut. It had been so long since he’d had anything that tasted this good.

He was indulging himself in a feeling he hadn’t had in a long time: anticipation.

Abby sauntered back from the door and over to the sink, leaning a hip on the counter. “Okay, Murdock, if you can win over these boys of mine, that aren’t too keen on the idea to begin with, if you can pass the ultimate test of two tough little guys who think they’re taking great care of themselves and Mom just fine, then I’ll give it some serious thought. Maybe trying it for the summer.”

He offered a mock salute. “Can’t ask for more consideration than that.”

Abby’s friend Mary Kay came through the door first, way ahead of the boys, and slid to a surprised halt. “Well, hello.”

Jack immediately stood up and moved over to her, offering his hand. “Jack Murdock. Nanny applicant.”

“Oh, yeah. Mary Kay. Neighbor.” As her son, Matt, ran through the doorway, she snagged him and slowed him down. “My kid, Matt. Slow down, big guy.”

Matt buried his head in a towel as he attempted to dry his mop of thick brown hair. He was straightaway followed by two blondes that, except for a difference in height, could have been twins.

In a few moments, the room seemed filled with water droplets spraying everywhere, jabbering and laughter and yards of fluffy, multicolored beach towels.

Abby moved over to them and sped up their drying process. Dropping one of the towels on the floor, she put her foot on it and backtracked it to the door, soaking up the river the boys had let in.

The youngest boy had his green turtle inner tube still stuck securely around his waist. His darker blond hair was sticking straight up toward the sky, and his lips were turning purple from the sudden change in air temperature.

“Go upstairs and change and then come right back down. I want you to meet and talk with Mr. Murdock awhile.”

The oldest drew himself taller. “Oh, Mom, we were going back out to play ball.”

“Later.”

Above all the groans, Mary Kay propelled Matt toward the back door, getting the unspoken message.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Murdock.”

Matt protested. Mary Kay shoved a little harder. “Move it, kid. There’ll be time for playing later after you take out the trash and—”

“Oh, brother, what did I do now?” he whined as the door bounced shut behind them.

“Scoot upstairs and dry off. Cookies and milk when you’re back down,” Abby directed.

Silence descended as the kids left the kitchen. Abby was a little amazed that she didn’t feel more uncomfortable with a stranger sitting at her kitchen table. And a male one at that. She’d been hornet’snest mad at all men for a short amount of time after finding out. more and more about her husband’s “other life.” But she had worked her way through that as she had almost everything else: by sheer willpower.

“Do the boys play any kind of sport?”

She laughed. “Every kind. It seems like we’re on the road fifty percent of the time going to this game and returning from that one. Saturdays consist of giving up a huge midafternoon chunk of time to some sort of practice or another. And, of course, as summer grows closer there’s camping trips, swimming lessons, overnights with friends, birthday parties, and so on. They keep plenty busy.”

The adults heard the rumble of the boys’ feet as they sped down the stairs and swung into the kitchen.

“Guys, this is Jack Murdock. The last man to apply for the nanny job.”

Abby could see the curiosity in their eyes as they tried to connect this man with whatever visions six-and eight-year-olds had of a nanny. Remembering how the kids had acted up and discounted the entire situation time and time again with previous applicants, Abby was surprised when they both just gave Jack a good look over. Of course, even they had to see he was nothing like the other candidates at all.

Jack held up the fragments of the car. “So, who’s the unlucky guy who wrecked this?”

“Me,” Nick, her oldest son, said proudly, poking a thumb in his chest, his eyes lighting up. “But not before I got it to do a wheelie at the roof pitch. Mom had a fit.”

Abigail watched Jack as he listened intently to Nick’s story. He sure would be nice to have around. But then, so were German shepherds, and even they needed a lot of upkeep. This entire situation could just turn out to be a major complication. He was much too easy on the eyes. And very substantially the classic male.

Feelings she’d thought she would never succumb to again were warming her insides. She willed them to stop, but they refused.

His jeans fit perfectly. He was handsome and had a smooth way of walking, and he simply had a great body. His stomach was flat. He was a good cross between Sam Elliott and a tall Clint Black. A man that caused a woman to conjure pictures of blazing orange sunsets…wild rides on untamed stallions…the two of them wrapped in one blanket sitting near a campfire.

Abby had to admit she felt her heart slowly melting. For the first time in a long line of drawn-out, lonely days spent resenting the male species and her stupidity in dealing with it, she felt some of her pentup anger ease.

It was almost as if she could actually feel her lifeblood snaking through her veins. Hot and way too fast. She detected a quickening. A heightened awareness of her body and mind. It was like seeing everything through 3-D glasses when all her life everything had been one-dimensional.

“Have any glue?” Jack asked, a screwdriver in one hand and pliers in the other.

Nick shook his head. “Sure, but it won’t do any good to stick it all back together ’cause the motor won’t work anymore.”

“You’re sure of that?”

Nick started to affirm his train of thought but stopped short. “I guess not. But it sure looks trashed to me.” He slid from the chair and ran to his room to retrieve the tube of glue.

Ben didn’t miss a thing even though he refused to crack a smile at Jack. He watched him manipulate the parts to the broken toy with fascination but remained silent.

Abby realized that Jack was simulating, without trying, what he might be able to do if he became part of the household: fit the puzzle pieces back into place, strengthen some weaknesses. Take the scattered pieces of the whole and patch them together so they’d work. Maybe not perfectly, not like the original, but quite good enough.

Suddenly Abby felt pure, cold fear slide over her. This man simply stirred up too many feelings inside of her. He was too physical, too powerful, too commanding a presence. Maybe this scenario would be the best thing for Nick and Ben, but what would it do to her? She shook her head. She was a mature adult. It would only do what she allowed it to do.

Certainly she could live in the same house with this man and not make a fool of herself. Not resent him the way she had come to resent the arrogant existence of the entire male population. Unreasonable feelings, true, and ones she could deal with if she had a mind to. Up until now, it had been easier not to.

Nick came running back, dropping a misshapen tube of model glue in Jack’s hand. Instead of returning to his seat, Nick stood by Jack and the two of them bent their heads over the task.

“Ben, come on over here and hold this piece against here while Nick and I use the screwdriver to set the engine back in place.”

Ben, pretty used to doing what grown-ups told him to do, got down from his chair and sauntered over, pretending to be painfully bored and unimpressed.

Abby watched, fascinated, as Jack closed his big hand over Ben’s little one. “Right here. Just like that.”

Jack tweaked and prodded and twisted and poked. The boys patiently handed him tools and held this here and that there. Abby was amazed that they could stand still that long. Abby forced herself to load the dishwasher. She needed to be busy doing something other than watching how deftly the man’s hands worked.

They were still laboring over the broken toy twenty minutes later when Katie toddled in. Her thick, dark hair was mussed, her even darker eyes were still circled with sleep and her little mouth was curled in a tiny pout. Abigail wondered at how she found her way around the strange surroundings. And she hadn’t even whimpered.

“Hi, Katie.” Abigail walked slowly toward her so as not to startle her. The little girl rubbed her eyes and blinked up at her as she drew closer.

Without hesitation, Katie stretched out both arms to be lifted up. Instinctively Abby bent down and obliged her.

The moment those soft little arms crept around her neck, the little head tucked beneath Abby’s chin, she was lost all over again. All the longings for a daughter, all the wishes for a little girl in starched dresses and patent leather shoes…She and Jim used to lie awake at night and talk about what it would be like to have a daughter. Pink things and lacy stuff. Frilly dresses. Bows. Pigtails. Baton lessons.

The child smelled of warm sheets and baby shampoo. A picture of those big hands of Jack’s lathering this tiny head appeared in her imagination. A man had to be unique, very special to actually take the time to perform the many tasks of raising a child alone.

And this child trusted that the adults in her life would love her and cherish her and do all the right things by her. She had no way of knowing that her mother wasn’t in the picture. Not yet anyway. Abby kissed her soft cheek.

That was what Jack saw when he glanced up from his conversation about camping with the boys, the repair of the car just about completed. His daughter was being happily hugged and talked to by the cool and beautiful Abigail Roberts. The picture contracted his heart.

He detected a gentleness in the way Abby soothed his daughter. Caring. He wanted this for Katie. She deserved it. She was just a toddler and relied on him to make the best decisions for her.

Regret washed over him like a bucket of ice water. Maybe he hadn’t tried hard enough to save his marriage. Maybe it was all his fault. His wife had told him it was all the time. Maybe…

He couldn’t afford to dwell on what-ifs. He looked at Abby. What were these feelings she stirred in him? Gratitude. Nothing else, he assured himself. The fact that his body had tuned itself into hers the minute she had yanked the door open was only the reflection of appreciation that a workable solution might be on the horizon. To think of her in any other way would be too dangerous at this point in his life.

Okay. So he was just downright attracted to her. Strongly charmed by her. That was the natural, biological way of things. But this was business. This was only for the sake of a bunch of kids that needed some strain of normalcy in their lives.

Well, maybe one one-hundredth would be for him. A little everyday, ordinary peace and contentment. And what could it hurt to have a beautiful, sweetsmelling female to brighten up his every hour? As long as he looked but didn’t even think about touching.

Abigail sensed that Jack was watching, and she turned toward the table to see that he sat there, dwarfing it. Something strange ran through her heart. Something warm and exiting. Something promising. She held something that was vital to him in her arms, just as she was trusting him with two little somethings that were her very life.

“Someone is looking for you, Daddy.”

After taking just a few more seconds to enjoy the view, he got up, walked over to them and trapped Abby’s gaze with his own. “Well, she found me, Mommy,” he teased.

Just his use of the word conjured pictures. Ones that came too quickly and too brightly.

Time ticked between them. Suspended. One. Two. Three.

He took Katie when she fell forward into his arms. They stood close, Abby and Jack. Tiny white-hot sparks danced the short distance between them to heat the air. Abigail’s gaze rested on the strong, muscled arms that supported the child, the wide, square hand that chucked her under her chin. She wondered what his hands would feel like on her body.

She immediately pulled her gaze away and walked to the sink to run water, rinsing this morning’s frying pan before shoving it in the dishwasher. Anything to keep occupied.

Ben, assuming the need for his help was over, headed for the other room and the television. Abby was sure he had already made up his mind about a nanny and very little could change it.

Abby listened to the sound of Jack’s footsteps as he returned to the table with his daughter. She liked the sound. Security. How could a near-stranger make her feel secure in her own home?

“This is Katie. Katie, that’s Nick, and that guy over there, leaving, is Ben. Say hello.”

“’Lo.”

Nick, who had appointed himself the man of the house since Jim’s death, picked up a cookie and offered it to Katie. She took it and slid down from her daddy’s lap, scooted under the table and came up on the other side to sit in the chair next to Nick. Ben voiced a forced greeting and disappeared around the doorway, and Abby listened to him plop onto the sofa and click the remote.

Abby sighed. There had to be more than a dozen ways for a heart to break. Ben was experiencing all of them.

Abby locked the door on the dishwasher and twisted the knob. It looked as if Jack would be there awhile now that he had appointed himself mechanic. The machine began its cycle.

Jack’s head whipped up at the low, screeching noise. “Did you lock a cat in there?”

Nick laughed and Abby asked, “What?”

“That noise.”

“Oh, that. I’ve gotten so used to it that I don’t hear it anymore.”

“Mom tried to fix it, but she got stuck.”

“Mr. Murdock doesn’t want to hear about that, Nicky.”

Jack grinned, assuring her that he did. “Turn it off. I’ll have a look at it.”

“Thanks.” Realizing she’d just be in the way, and wanting her kids to get to know Jack, she decided to leave. “I’ll be upstairs if you want anything.”

She climbed the stairs to get on with the vacuuming. As soon as she heard herself humming, she stopped short. This was new. The thought of cleaning the rugs had never brought on singing before. Either this was a good sign or a very bad one.

A diversion. Something new in their lives. Katie and Jack. They were like a beautifully wrapped box placed in front of her. A gift from someone unknown. The wondering, the curiosity at what she would find once she opened the lid, was getting the better of her.

She forced the thoughts from her mind as she plugged in the cord and stepped on the switch, bringing the machine to life. No thinking. That had been her rule for many, many months. She counted each back-and-forth motion of the vacuum wand, one, two, three, four. Keep her mind from wandering to the man below in her kitchen, five, six, seven, eight.

When she went back downstairs, completely convinced that she had only imagined the effect Jack Murdock had on her, Nick and Jack were discussing a cabin that Jack owned somewhere up north. “And when I was a kid, we used to go sleigh riding for the entire day and have huge bonfires to roast hot dogs at night. We’d be so tired, our parents had to carry us home.”

And Abby felt that edge, that awakening stir inside of her. again. It wasn’t her imagination. It was him. Just by being who he was, he was able to wake her out of her emotional deep sleep. Even though it was the last thing she wanted. Control. She was in command of her emotions. She would rule.

They continued their chitchat about Little League and booster shots.

Abby took the clothes out of the washer and headed out back to hang them on the line. Even if she decided to give this little scene a chance, they couldn’t just fall in like roommates on some nighttime sitcom. There had to be decorum. Some distance. Just the thought of a strange man in the house was more than a bit unsettling. Yet somehow Jack didn’t seen like a outsider.

It was a very large house. And there was plenty of room….

Doubt toyed with her. Tested her. Tortured her. The unknown. Here it was again. For years she had lived secure in her knowledge and realization of how wonderful her life was, only then to discover that it was all a farce. A lie! Maybe she couldn’t tell the difference between illusion and reality—ever! Maybe right this minute she was being duped again.

No. No way. She was suspicious now, of everything and everybody. She was much too sophisticated to let anyone pull the wool over her eyes as her husband had. She wouldn’t think of it. Not right now.

The screen door banged shut as she reentered the house.

Jack’s deep voice had shifted to serious and studious. “We’ll let this set overnight and then try it. It might just work long enough for you to try it on a tree limb or Highway 95.”

“Oh, no, you don’t!” Abby instructed, unable to believe he’d just said something like that to an eight-year-old.

“Relax. Nick and I had a talk about the proper places to run these things. He’s decided he doesn’t want to take any more chances with this one. Especially since he won’t get it back again if he does.”

She relaxed. “Good.” So he was one step ahead of her and maybe had handled the rule of where to play with the remote-control car better than she had.

Jack got up and walked around to Katie. He took her hands, one at a time, and brushed the cookie crumbs from them. He led her into the living room. Abby pretended to be busy selecting something from a cupboard, but her ears were tuned in.

“Mind if Katie watches cartoons with you?”

“Nope.” Ben’s tone was one of complete disinterest.

“She likes the Smurfs.”

“They’re dumb.”

“The Jetsons.”

“Stupid.”

“Turtles?”

“They’re okay.”

Jack came back into the kitchen.

Nick was on his feet instantly. “Want to see the wagon I’m working on? It’s pretty old.”

“Lead the way.” He turned toward Abby. “Just give me a holler if Katie gets restless.”

Abby nodded.

Alone in the kitchen, Abby crept to the doorway and peeped into the living room. Katie was sitting next to Ben, looking up at him. Ben was perched on the arm of the sofa, swinging one leg over the side. His gaze would wander from the television to the little girl beside him without moving his head.

In a few minutes, Katie slid from the couch and walked around the room, looking at everything. Ben’s baseball mitt was lying on the coffee table, and Katie poked at it. Abby watched Ben start to make a move and then decide against it. Katie went around to the wing-back chair and pulled his brightly colored book bag onto the floor. She plopped down and played with the zipper. Ben said nothing, but he kept a wary eye on her.

Abby knew, deep down in her heart, that Katie would be good for Ben. She would draw his attention away from himself and his sadness. She would force him to interact simply by existing in the same space.

And Jack would do the same for her. Even if he was never aware of it.

What were his needs? A substitute mother for his daughter was obvious. But there was more. She felt it.

Okay, so hiring him as a nanny seemed the best thing to do. It still felt weird and way out of character for her. Getting beyond that would be half the battle. Change was needed. And she needed help to expand and explore. She’d turned so sour on life for so long, she desperately needed someone to push her back into it.

Jack and Nick returned to the house, Nick jumping around and jabbering. Katie ran into the kitchen at the sound of her dad’s voice. Ben nonchalantly followed a few seconds later.

“A good coat of red paint and it will be as good as new.”

“I hope it holds together.”

“Mom,” Nick groaned, “I told you I know what I’m doing. Even Jack says it’s sturdy. Stop worrying.”

“It’s a mother’s job to worry,” Jack defended her.

Nick moaned again.

“It’s time for us to go. Nice to have met you Nick, Ben. Hope I’ll be seeing you soon. And thank you for the cookies, Mrs. Roberts. I haven’t had anything that tasted that good since…Well, I haven’t had anything that’s tasted that good at all. Say goodbye, Katie.”

She kicked her little legs and wiggled her fingers.

Ben peeled away from the wall and darted back into the living room.

Nick turned to join his brother. “See ya, Jack, and thanks for working on stuff with me.”

“Anytime, buddy.”

Jack paused as Abby was walking him toward the front door and looked at her over Katie’s curly head. “Nice kids. Real nice kids.”

“Thank you. And your daughter is beautiful.”

Jack grinned. “Sure is. She’s low maintenance, too.”

It would be a big step for all of them. Regrets were something she wanted nothing to do with anymore. Not when it came to the well-being of Nick and Ben. She had to be positive. She hauled the huge oak door open.

Automatically she put her hand on his arm and again found it hard and supporting. “You must know how much I want to be sure this is the right thing to do.”

He nodded.

She laughed. “No guarantees, I guess.”

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Glancing out the open door and back to her again, his face was serious. His mouth broke into that nice grin she found she watched for already. “I guess I could simply call you and ask you out to dinner,” he suggested.

His eyes were clear and direct. And saw too much. If she chose to go in this direction, she’d just have to make sure it wasn’t too much of an enjoyment. Business. She instilled the word in her brain. Strictly business.

“I’ll call you.” Abby waved goodbye to Katie.

“Or I’ll call you.”

Heat coiled in her stomach, sank and whispered lower. As she closed the door, she felt the instant absence of something nice.

Abby walked back into the living room. The kids were deeply involved in a hushed conversation.

Nick could contain himself no longer. “Hey, Mom. Jack said he had a real live log cabin up in the mountains. He used to go there and fish. Stayed there all by himself even when he was little. Did you see he fixed my car?” He held it tightly and then moved to place it in a safe spot on the counter as he followed his mom back into the kitchen.

“Lunch, Ben,” she called. Nick was already at the table.

Abby set a heaping plate of diagonally cut peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches in front of all of them. Fresh, cold milk was poured into amber glass tumblers. A bowl of rippled potato chips and a plate of freshly baked cookies finished the scene.

Abby leaned over and tweaked Nick’s nose. “You liked Mr. Murdock, huh?”

Nick, sandwich fisted and mouth full by now, looked at Ben and nodded in wide-eyed, solemn agreement. Ben looked away. “Yeah, he sure wasn’t like the rest of those guys. Jack’s okay, Ben. You just don’t want him around ’cause he’s not Dad.”

That struck a chord. “Nah,” Ben argued instantly.

“Uh-huh,” contested Nick.

Ben shoved Nick, and Nick shoved Ben back.

Nick knew what buttons to press to get to Ben. “Quit being a baby!”

Ben launched himself from his chair to Nick’s, his little arms and legs going as if he wanted to pummel his brother to death. A baby, indeed.

“Hey, you two, cut it out right now. Finish eating.”

Ben wrestled with Nick even though Nick managed to continue eating his sandwich at the same time. Abby moved over, lifted Ben from the body of his brother and sat him sternly in his own chair. Ben continued to send stormy glances Nick’s way.

Abby studied the two tough, wiry little boys. Both light haired and dark eyed like their father. Nick had Jim’s stubborn chin. Ben had his wide forehead and nose. They both showed his heart and soul, which at times had been beautiful. She silently prayed neither had inherited his weakness for lying and cheating.

Nick spoke from behind his milk mustache. “He’s cool, Mom. He’s big. I bet he can wrestle a real long time without getting tired.”

Ben continued to eat and play with his food. “I don’t like him.”

Nick rolled on, ignoring his little brother’s statement. “And he said he likes car racing, too, just like me.”

Abby busied herself cleaning the kitchen and half listening to Nick’s continuous monologue while she fell deeply in thought.

“Yep, and he likes Batman and camping, too.”

“I don’t like him.” Ben raised his voice.

“It’s okay, Ben, you don’t have to like him.” Abby made the statement short and simple.

She hadn’t seen such interest, such excitement, shining in Nick’s eyes in a long, long time. This Jack Murdock was either the best con artist she had ever seen or a godsend. Whichever, something seemed to be working.

Abigail fussed at the kitchen counter and pretended to be busy. “He seems to be very nice.”

Nick’s keen mind reduced it to its lowest common denominator. “Is he gonna come live with us or not?”

Chuckling, Abby capped the jelly and used the dishcloth to clean the purple stickiness from the side of the jar. Come live with us? “Maybe…but I don’t know yet.”

Nick’s voice took on the tone of the older, know-it-all brother and son. “Mom, let’s just do it. Let’s do what Dad used to say. Just close your eyes and make up your mind. Jump in with both feet. Ben, you’ll like him after a while.”

The words stung, hummed like a wasp sinking a venom-filled stinger. How easily Nick had repeated Jim’s lines word for word. How very, very much he sounded exactly like his father. How quickly the ghostly image of him appeared, standing there in the kitchen with them, that wonderful, unforgettable grin on his face. The love for his family shining in his eyes. She wondered if that love shone from his eyes when he was with…Her heart broke. Again.

For a long moment, Abby stood there, keeping her back to her family while she absorbed the blow from the good memory and the bleak realization of reality. Jim’s silhouette shimmered slowly from her mind.

She picked up her own sandwich and took a seat at the table with the boys. “The movie starts at five, and you guys have to clean your rooms before we go.”

Ben pouted. “I don’t like him. I don’t want him here.”

Nick, as always, took the lead. “Be quiet, Benny. You’re too young to know what’s good for you anyway.” Then, to his mother, he added seriously, “Mom, we need him.”

Ben slid down from his chair and pushed it hard under the table. “No, we don’t.”

“Oh yes, we do, Benny.”

“No. No. No.” Ben stood straight and tall like a little tin soldier. “I don’t want him here.”

“Ben.” It took all her strength not to run to the little kid and scoop him up in her arms. “You don’t even know Mr. Murdock. You remember when you first started wearing your in-line skates? You hated them because you kept falling and skinning your knees and elbows. After a while, you loved them because you’d gotten used to them and didn’t fall much anymore. Sometimes that’s the way it is with people. At first you don’t like them, but after they’ve been around a little bit, you do.”