Читать книгу The Single Dad's Virgin Wife - Susan Crosby, Susan Crosby - Страница 9

Noah pulled into the driveway the next night at six-thirty. He hadn’t called when he left the office, and he could’ve called from his cell phone at any time, yet he hadn’t.

He didn’t know why. He wasn’t rude, generally. Oblivious, maybe at times, but not intentionally rude. And it hadn’t slipped his mind, because she hadn’t slipped his mind. Tricia. He hadn’t even been working, but reading trade magazines so that he wouldn’t get home until a half hour after the usual dinnertime, although it was two hours earlier than his norm for the past year.

If he really wanted to figure out why he’d deliberately stalled, he could call his brother Gideon, who wasn’t a psychologist but understood human nature better than most people.

Noah didn’t want to know why.

He made the long walk from the garage to the house. No one opened the back door to greet him, although the dining room lights were on, and they all would’ve seen his car turn into the driveway, his headlights arcing across the window. Maybe they were done eating.

Margie would have had the kids racing to the back door to greet him.

He reached for the door handle, then stopped and reminded himself that his world had changed forever. There was no Margie. No wife. Even though the At Your Service agency where David had found Tricia was nicknamed “Wives for Hire,” Tricia wasn’t his wife. Except she was doing an admirable job of filling many of Margie’s roles….

But no sex, of course. That was in the contract they both signed, although he wouldn’t have gotten involved with an employee, anyway. It hadn’t been an issue with any of the other nannies, contract or not. Tricia was the first one to even tempt him.

Noah entered the kitchen just as they were carrying their dirty dishes in, Ashley leading the way. Accusation and disappointment hit him full force from her expression alone. Why? He hadn’t made it home on time for at least a year.

“Hi,” he said, setting his briefcase on the counter.

“Hello.” She turned on the faucet and rinsed her plate. She opened the dishwasher and slid her dishes inside then left the room.

“Dinner was good,” Adam said. He put his dishes in the dishwasher without rinsing.

Zoe followed suit. “Beef stew,” she said in way of greeting.

Then Zach, whose expression was even more accusatory than Ashley’s. Why? What had he done?

Zach took his time rinsing his plate, using a cloth to get every bit off the plate and silverware, then loaded them. Finally he looked at Noah. “You promised to be nice,” he said, then left.

Ah. So part of being nice was being home for dinner. Okay. Noah understood now.

“Hello, Noah. Did you have a good day?” Tricia said as she brought her own dishes in.

He was not in the mood to be chastised, directly or indirectly, and her tone indicated she was doing exactly that. He was especially annoyed because she’d been intruding into his thoughts all day already. “This is your doing, I assume.”

“My doing?” She rinsed her dishes, avoiding looking at him. “Your children seemed to think things were going to change. I have no idea what or why. All I know is, you didn’t call to say you were on your way home, so we ate without you. What’s wrong with that?”

“I meant having the children doing dishes.”

She looked startled. “That’s what you’re mad about?”

No. He was angry that his children were barely speaking to him, but he couldn’t blame Tricia for that. “I don’t want them doing chores.”

“Why not?” She propped a hip against the counter and crossed her arms.

“Because you only get to be kids once.”

“Home is where we are prepared for life. Doing chores is part of life.”

“Not in my house.”

“Noah,” she said quietly, “the children want chores. They want responsibility.”

“How do you know that?”

“They told me.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. He’d only meant to save them from the kind of childhood he’d had—babysitting his two younger brothers while his father and one stepmother, then another, worked full time. He was ten years old when he was first put in charge of seven-year-old Gideon and three-year-old David. As the years passed, Noah had supervised homework and cleaned the house, including doing laundry. The only way he’d gotten out of cooking duty was to be really bad at it, on purpose.

“I assume they didn’t tell you without prompting?” he asked, heading to the dining room to eat.

She followed. “Not exactly.” She made a move to grab the pot of stew. “I can heat this for you.”

“It’s fine.” He served himself the remainder of the salad, rolls and stew, then glanced up as she hovered. “Not exactly?” he repeated.

“One of the things we did today was discuss their schedules, not just their academics but extracurricular activities. In the grand scheme of things, we talked about responsibility. I sort of tossed out the idea that they could make their own beds and do their own dishes rather than letting them sit in the sink all night.”

He gestured she should sit. “And they jumped at the chance to assume that responsibility?”

She hesitated. “Not all of them.”

“Let me guess. Ashley and Zach were gung ho. Zoe got huffy. And Adam…”

“Said they’d be putting Cora out of work, and how could we live with that?”

Noah laughed, which made Tricia laugh, too. “That’s my boy.”

“Is he the most like you, out of all of them?”

The stew was lukewarm but tasty, the salad lukewarm and wilted, and the rolls cold but still crunchy. “I think Zach’s the most like me. How’d your day go?”

“Great,” she said. “They’re certainly all individual, and yet the twin thing is strongly at work.”

“They used to have secret languages when they were very young, but not anymore.”

“Maybe not spoken, but they know how the other feels. I’ve never had a sibling, so I have nothing to compare it to.”

“And I only know my brothers and I didn’t have it. So, everyone got all their work done?”

“Yes. If you’d like to see it, I can bring it to your office later. Or I can meet you in the classroom.”

“I’d like a summary, but I don’t need to see the actual work. If you can come to my office right after the children go to bed, that would be great. I won’t take up much of your time.”

“All right.” She stood. “For now I’d like to go to my room. I’ve been on duty for almost twelve hours.”

He hadn’t considered how long she worked. No wonder he lost nannies all the time. But Cora was supposed to keep an eye on the kids during lunch, giving the nan—teacher a break before afternoon activities. “Cora didn’t relieve you for a while?” he asked.

“She offered, but I didn’t want to interrupt the flow of the day. I’ll let her from now on. I hadn’t realized how tired I would be without a break.”

“Good.”

With a quick goodbye, she left. She hadn’t looked tired. Her blond hair still held its curl, her eyes were as clear as ever. She wasn’t slouching. In fact, her posture was perfect, her shoulders back, her breasts a tempting sight he tried to ignore, which was hard to do since her form-fitting T-shirt showed off every curve.

Noah usually ate dinner alone, which was fine with him. Tonight it bothered him. Maybe because he was sitting at the dining room table instead of standing at the kitchen counter. He finished up in a hurry, then debated what to do about the dishes. There were no leftovers. He should’ve left some stew so he could just put some foil on top and stick it in the refrigerator.

In the end, he put his dishes in the dishwasher but left the pot soaking in the sink.

He wandered into the family room. Zoe was playing a soccer video game on the small television. Adam was intent on his handheld Game Boy. Zach and Ashley were watching something on the Disney Channel, a movie about teenagers and basketball, with a lot of singing and dancing involved.

Noah sat on the couch next to Ashley, who moved a few inches away, her lips pinched. He didn’t know what to do with her. It seemed like everything he did these days was wrong, and she was so quick to judge him. And vocal. That was new. Before, he could guess by her expression when she was upset with him. Now she told him, as well. He should be grateful not to have to guess anymore, but it left him confused, too.

“When this is over, would you come to my office, please?” he asked her.

She waited a few seconds, then nodded.

He wanted to escape, but he made himself sit there, trying to be part of their world. He didn’t have a clue how they usually spent their evenings after dinner. Like this? Watching TV, playing games?

What did they used to do, as a family?

Well, really, did the past have any bearing on now? They were older. Life had changed.

“Where’s Miss Tricia?” Zach asked during a commercial.

“In her room,” Noah answered.

“Why?”

“I guess she had things to do.”

Zach eyed Noah like he was responsible, like he’d ordered her to her room, or something.

“Oh,” Zach said glumly. “Will she come down later?”

“I don’t know. She’s off duty as soon as I get home.”

All four of the children turned and looked at him for a few long seconds before they went back to watching television and playing video games without uttering their opinion.

“Would you like to play a game?” he asked the room at large. He knew the cabinet held tons of board games.

“Why?” Adam asked, not looking away from his Game Boy.

“To spend some time together as a family. Having fun.” He tried not to sound defensive.

“It’s too close to bedtime,” Ashley said. “We probably couldn’t finish.”

No one else commented. No one made a move to play a game. So he sat and watched the rest of the movie with Ashley and Zach, trying to seem interested.

“I’m ready now, Father,” Ashley said, getting up and heading out.

“What’s she ready for?” Adam asked.

“I want to talk to each of you individually,” Noah answered, including all of them in the answer. “It’s nothing bad. I just want to know about your day and what you learned.”

“Like you used to,” Zoe said, not taking her eyes off her video match.

“Yes.” So they remembered. Guilt came to sit on his shoulder.

“Are you going to test us?” Adam asked.

Noah almost sighed. “No. Just talk.”

“For how long?”

“For as long as it takes. Ashley’s coming first.”

“Ashley always goes first,” Zach muttered.

What happened to his agreeable, obedient children? When had he lost control? Or maybe it wasn’t a matter of control but that they felt he’d abandoned them.