“Busy morning,” she said.
“I’ll be right out there to help you,” Margo promised. She popped the muffins into the oven, washed her hands, then joined Em. She should have felt great, seeing customers lined practically to the door, but all she could think of was something Robert had told her the other day.
“You’re actually losing money on your breakfast crowd, Margo,” he’d said. “You’ve got to adjust your prices.”
But which items and by how much? She couldn’t go too high or her customers would take their business elsewhere. Robert was working on the numbers and hoped to have something for her in time for the meeting with the bank next week. But she was still worried that the changes wouldn’t happen in time to make a difference.
“One skinny decaf and a berry bran muffin.” Margo rang in the sale, then used tongs to place the muffin into a parchment bag. She handed it to the young businesswoman, then smiled at the next person in line. She’d helped half a dozen customers before the buzzer sounded on her watch.
“Sorry, Em. I’ve got to get those muffins out of the oven.”
She left the poor woman with a lineup only marginally shorter than it had been fifteen minutes ago. In the kitchen, she pulled the muffins from the oven just in time, then took a tray upstairs for the kids.
She served yogurt with the muffins and slices of oranges. When Ellie and Peter were finished eating, she tested Peter’s blood then gave him his insulin. Even with both arms around Boy’s neck, he still winced whenever he had to get a shot. And she still felt like the worst parent in the world giving it to him.
“Thanks, Peter. All done.” She noticed Ellie clipping the leash on to Boy.
“Can we take him for a walk, Mom?”
“Sweetheart, no. Maybe when you’re older and he’s had some obedience training. Why don’t you guys watch a movie?”
She didn’t like leaving them sitting in front of the television while she went back to work, but she didn’t have a choice. The bistro was always extra busy right through lunchtime and one person couldn’t handle that on their own.
“Sorry, Em,” she apologized, when she finally joined her behind the counter. “I forgot the kids didn’t have school today, or I would have brought in extra help.”
“That’s okay,” Em said, but clearly she’d been struggling on her own. The container for used coffee grounds was overflowing, all the counters were sticky and dirty dishes littered the sink. Em, who always cleaned up behind herself, had obviously been run off her feet.
Even with two working, there was barely time to grab a drink of water, or go to the washroom. Every now and then, Margo dashed upstairs to check on the kids. When the first movie ended, she started another.
“I’m bored.” Peter stared out the window at the sunshine. Margo knew the kids would love to be out on their bikes, or with friends at the playground.
“We’ll do something fun tonight,” she promised. “But right now I have to go back to work.”
She gave them sandwiches and apple slices for lunch, then ran downstairs. The midday crowd was steady—Margo barely had time to lift her head from the cash register and order pad. So she was startled when around one o’clock a familiar voice asked for an iced latte. Margo did a double take. “Catherine?”
Tom’s wife was dressed casually in jeans and a blue-and-white striped shirt. Her sunglasses rested on the top of her head and her chestnut hair gleamed as if it had been freshly brushed, then sprayed into its perfect position.
She looked relaxed and casual, yet poised. And Margo was instantly aware of how disheveled she must appear in comparison. She smoothed a stray curl behind her ear. “This is a surprise.”
“You didn’t know Peter called me?”
Margo shook her head as Em handed Catherine the icy drink she’d ordered. Catherine slid three dollars across the counter and Margo automatically opened the till and stacked the bills in the appropriate tray.
“I’m sorry. I suppose I should have insisted on speaking to you, but Peter told me you were busy.”
“I was.”
“Yes. I see.” Catherine tried another smile. “According to Peter, he and Ellie don’t have school today.”
“That’s true.”
“And it’s so lovely outside, I was wondering if I could maybe take them out for a few hours.”
Margo should have seen it coming, but she hadn’t. It took a few seconds for her to find her voice. “That’s very nice of you. I’m sure the kids would love that. Just a minute and I’ll run and get them.” She turned to Em, who was frothing milk for the next order. “I won’t be long.”
“It’s no problem.”
“You’re a saint, Em.” As Margo dashed up the stairs for about the tenth time that day, she prayed that Em would never quit. She’d be lost without her. If her financial situation ever improved, the first thing she would do was give the woman a well-deserved raise.
In the apartment Margo found both kids sitting on the couch, looking like zombies. Feeling more guilty than ever, Margo switched off the television. “Okay kids, change of plans.”
“Did Catherine come?” Peter’s face brightened.
Margo nodded. He sounded so excited, she didn’t have the heart to chastise him for calling his stepmother without asking her first. “Put on your shoes and a hoodie. It’s not as warm outside as it looks.”
When they were ready, she rubbed sunscreen on their cheeks then brought them down to Catherine.
“I’ll have them home before dinner,” Catherine promised. As they headed for the door, she reminded the kids to say goodbye to their mother. Only then did Ellie and Peter run back to give her a kiss.
Margo tore her gaze from the door.
“You’re doing the best you can,” Em said quietly. “Don’t feel guilty.”
“Thanks, Em.” She made a production of checking the display unit. “Wow, we sure sold a lot of cookies today. I’d better get some more.”
She escaped to the kitchen just in time. As the tears came, she gave herself a few moments to feel sorry for herself. It didn’t help that she had only herself to blame. If she’d been better organized, she would have made sure she was free today. Then she would be taking the kids to the park right now, not Catherine.
Not that she had the money right now to hire extra staff….
Margo rested her head against the cool stainless steel refrigerator. Was Em right? Was she just being hard on herself? When she’d worked in the law firm, she’d never had trouble managing her workload. But she’d had a personal assistant at the office and a full-time nanny at home.
Still, other single mothers managed to juggle looking after children as well as their jobs. Selena, Rosie and Nora all did. Why couldn’t she?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Days Unemployed: 19
ROBERT WAS EXPECTING to hear back from his previous days’ interviews before noon. When eleven-thirty rolled around and he still hadn’t received a call on his BlackBerry, he decided to go for a walk.
Out of habit he ended up in the financial district. He strolled by his old office tower and watched his former coworkers spill out of the building for their requisite thirty-minute lunch break. They were entitled to more time than that, but almost none of them took it, unless they were on a business luncheon with a client.
After that, he hopped a cable car to Belinda’s apartment. Her kitchen window faced the street. The drapes were partially drawn so all Robert could see was the toaster that sat on the breakfast table. He remembered how no matter how much he’d fiddled with the settings, the toast had come out either too light or too dark.
Next to the kitchen window was the balcony off the eating nook. A new bike was chained to the railing. It was the exact model he’d picked out of the store front window. Had Belinda bought it for him? Or the new guy?
Robert wondered how Andrew was doing. He hadn’t received any calls since Belinda had laid down the law. Hopefully that meant everything was okay.
Ro
bert checked the time. Three o’clock. He pulled out his BlackBerry for the umpteenth time. No missed calls. He sighed, feeling the disappointment like an extra five pounds between his shoulder blades.
He decided to catch the next cable car. He rode it to the end of the line, then kept moving on foot. Soon he stood in front of another window.
Margo’s Bistro. The soup of the day was Red-and-White Surprise. He inhaled the heady aroma of wonderful, home-cooked food, then pushed on the door. Em was working at the counter alone. He lined up behind a guy with baggy pants and dread-locks. When it was his turn, he ordered the soup.
“Interesting name,” he said. “What is it?”
“Red pepper and leek.” Em sounded as if she’d explained this many times already that day. “It’s actually delicious, believe it or not.”
“I believe it.” He had faith in anything Margo made, with the possible exception of muffins. He watched as Em ladled first a red soup, then a white soup into a wide, shallow bowl. Both were quite thick and stayed on their respective sides of the bowl. Then Em took a knife and ran a line through the center, blending the two colors in a zigzag pattern.
“Would you like a—”
“Herbed scone, please.” He paid for the food, then went to his usual table. Though the door was closed, he could tell someone was in the kitchen. Margo, he hoped. He planned to go and talk to her, but first he finished the soup, which was amazing, full of flavor with a smooth, but substantial, texture.
When he’d scraped out the last spoonful, he headed for the kitchen as if he had every right to push past the door marked Employees Only. As he’d guessed, Margo was there, stirring something on the stove. She was wearing her apron and her hair had been pinned up the way she usually wore it when she was at work.
The edgy feeling that had nagged him all day disappeared at the sight of her.
“I had a crappy day. Until now, that is. How about you?” He moved closer, tempted by the white skin at the nape of her neck. He wished he had the right to put his hand there. To turn her toward him.
But she continued stirring whatever it was she was cooking on the stove. Without even glancing in his direction she said, “I bet my crap beats your crap.”
He could tell she was serious. “What happened?”
She told him about the kids having the day off from school and how unprepared she’d been and how Tom’s wife had been the one to step forward and save the day.
“The kids just came home from spending three hours at the park. They were flying kites. For all that time.” She shook her head as if she couldn’t believe it. “I’ve never been able to get a kite to stay up for more than five minutes.”
“It’s not that difficult. I could teach you.”
She shook her head and tucked her chin lower, still not looking at him. He wasn’t Dr. Phil or anything, but he had a feeling her kite-flying ability wasn’t the real issue here.
“You’re a good mother.”
She flicked off the gas range and finally faced him. Her red-tinged eyes gleamed with tears. “Once, I thought I was, but lately I’m not so sure. Opening this bistro was my dream…but what if I’ve taken on way too much? I don’t have time to make a success of this place and raise two small children as well. Even the time I do find to spend with Ellie and Peter, I’m never really focusing on them. I’m always wondering if my staff is doing a proper job or if they’re going to run out of soup or scones or cookies.”
He thought about that. “When you were working for that law firm, you must have put in long hours, too.”
“At least I pulled in a good paycheck for my efforts. I could afford a nanny to do the cleaning and laundry and the million other jobs that pile up around a house. I hadn’t realized until you went over my books how much money I’ve been losing.”
“Information is a good thing. You’ll be able to turn this place around.” He felt guilty that he’d spent his morning wandering aimlessly instead of coming up with recommendations that would help her. “I have nothing planned for tomorrow. I’ll spend the whole day going over your records. I’m sure we can come up with something. In the meantime, let’s fix your crappy day. Where are the kids?”
“Upstairs, playing. They aren’t very happy about it, though. They want to be outside, but according to Tom, my neighborhood isn’t safe enough for that.” She leaned against the counter. “This upcoming weekend is one they’re supposed to spend with me, but they’ve both hinted rather broadly that they’d rather have gone home with Catherine.”
It sounded like distraction techniques were in order. For Margo and her kids. “Your evening staff will be here in an hour. Do you think you could skip out for a bit?”
“I don’t know. Em’s already done a lot of covering for me lately.”
“It’s not that busy.” Em spoke from the doorway. She eyed the two of them, then went to a cupboard and pulled out a bag of bagels. “Take off early for a change, Margo. Things will be fine here.”
“But—”
Em stopped her with a look. “I mean it, Margo. Take a break. You need it and your kids need it.”
When the other woman had left the room, Margo hesitated a minute, then pulled off her apron and stuffed it in the hamper. She turned to Robert. “Looks like I have some free time. Now what do I do with it?”
“Play.”
She laughed. “Sounds like fun. But what?”
“Do your kids like soccer?”
“I don’t think they’ve ever tried it.”
“I thought all kids played soccer these days.” He’d loved the sport when he was little. His mom had enrolled him in the neighborhood league every year.
“Tom was never interested in putting the kids into competitive sports.”
“Every kid ought to learn to play soccer. Come on, call them down and let’s go to the park.”
“But we don’t own a soccer ball.”
“I do.”
“You do?”
He could read the question in her voice. It had to do with more than soccer. Up until now, he hadn’t had much interaction with her kids. Truth was, even though Ellie and Peter seemed to have a good relationship with their dad, he was still a little nervous about getting too close to them.
But he couldn’t stand seeing Margo so unhappy. He had to do something to help her. “I’ll go home and get the ball. How about we meet in the school playground in fifteen minutes?”
THE KIDS AND MARGO were waiting by the time Robert pulled into the vacant teachers’ lot. Margo had tied the dog to a nearby tree, and Boy looked as eager as Peter and Ellie when Robert pulled the soccer ball and some orange pylons from the trunk.
“What are those for?” Peter wanted to know.
“We can use them to play some warm-up games. Then later, they’ll be our goal posts.” Robert showed the kids how to kick the ball with the side of their foot, then he set up the pylons so they could practice ball control.
Peter was still young and didn’t have much coordination, but both Margo and Ellie were surprisingly good. Robert ran through a few simple drills to teach them the basics, then suggested they split into boys against girls for a little match.
Soon all four of them were running and laughing and vying for a chance to kick the ball. When a young father showed up at the park with his daughter and asked if they could join in, both Ellie and Peter shouted, “Sure!”
They were friendly, happy kids, who seemed delighted to be out in the late afternoon sunshine. Even Margo had no trouble cutting loose and chasing after the ball, every bit as determined as Ellie and Peter to be the one to get to it first.
Robert loped around the field, feeding the ball back to the kids every chance he got and making the occasional run at the goal to get everyone excited.
The other father was pretty skilled at the game and a few times they tussled over the ball, with the kids cheering in the background.
About forty minutes after they’d started playing, Margo held up her hand to stop a play. “Pet
er, are you all right?”
“I feel a little spinny.”
“Do you mean dizzy?” Margo went to her son and tilted his face up so she could see him. “We should go home.”
“But I’m having fun.”
“Well, I have a juice box in my purse. Maybe if you sat down for a minute and drank that, you’d be able to play a little more.” The look she gave Robert was anxious. “At the hospital they warned us that if he was more active than usual his blood sugar could dip.”
Robert nodded. “My buddy had to watch out for the same thing.”
The other father and daughter thanked them for the game, then made their way to the monkey bars at the other end of the schoolyard.
Robert kicked the ball to Ellie. “Want to practice shots while your brother has his drink?”
“Sure.” Ellie followed him to one of the makeshift goal nets.
He took up goalie position and let her shoot from about fifteen feet away. “So, do you like soccer?”
“It’s fun.” She landed a big kick and sent the ball sailing over his shoulder.
“Good one.” He ran for the ball, then tossed it to her for another try. They played for several minutes, before Ellie seemed to get tired of the drill.
She tapped the ball a few times with her toe, then glanced at her mother and Peter. They were still sitting on the side of the field. Ellie tilted her head and looked at Robert thoughtfully. The quiet, dark-haired girl favored her father in both looks and deportment, as far as Robert could tell. But in that moment, in that careful, assessing glance she gave him, he could see a resemblance to her mother.
“Are you going to marry my mom?”
Robert didn’t know how to answer Ellie’s question.
“Your mom and I haven’t known each other very long.” That hadn’t stopped them from enjoying several passionate kisses already, but it was still true.
Ellie tapped the soccer ball in his direction, then moved closer. “That’s what Dad said about Catherine at first.”
Love And The Single Mom (Singles.... With Kids #1) Page 11
