by Patty Blount
But he hadn’t paid attention.
He tightened his arms around her and vowed to do better.
“Me, too! Me, too!” Maddie cried and piled on. That got Emmy started so he leaned into her stroller to give her a loud kiss and a hug, too. “And Lia! Don’t forget Lia, Daddy.”
Oh, boy. He wasn’t going to take advantage of the situation.
But Lia, it seemed, had other ideas. She wrapped her arms around him and laughed. “Yay, I get hugs and kisses, too?”
Playing along, he pressed a loud smack to her cheek, which made Maddie giggle and Olivia pout, and him…well, it made him aware.
Very aware.
When they started walking again, Lia looked at him. “Gabriel, I’m happy to watch your daughters when I can. Just ask, okay?”
“Yay! I want Lia to babysit, Daddy.”
“Yeah, sure. Okay.”
At Ben’s Bagels, Olivia opened the door and held it while Gabe steered the stroller through. “Who’s ready for breakfast?” Ben’s Bagels had the best bagels in New York, as far as Gabe was concerned.
“Morning, Ben,” he called to the tall thin man behind the counter that ran the entire length of the shop. He wore a white apron and blue cap.
“Hey, Gabe. What can I get you?”
Gabe pulled out his travel mug. “More coffee. And we’ll need half a dozen bagels, all with cream cheese.” He suddenly remembered Lia. “Unless you want something else?”
She shook her head. “I like cream cheese. And I like whole wheat.”
Cool. Okay, then. “Coffee?”
“Sure.”
“That’ll be one plain, one everything, one—”
“Rainbow, Daddy!”
“Right. One rainbow. Liv?”
“I want the cinnamon raisin.”
“One cinnamon raisin, one whole wheat, and the last one is to-go. That’ll be a plain bagel. And a large coffee.”
“Coming up. Go have a seat. I’ll bring the order out.”
“Thanks.” Gabe pushed Emmy’s stroller over to a corner table near the window, got the baby fastened into a wooden high chair and headed to a refrigerated case to grab some orange juice containers. When he stepped up to the register to pay, Ben slid his travel mug across the counter, along with a second cup in a to-go container with cardboard sleeve.
“Your fuel, sir.”
“Got that right,” Gabe replied with a laugh. He brought the juice to their table, poked straws through the holes and handed one to each of the older girls. For Emmy, he poured some into her sippy cup, diluting it with a little water.
“Lia. How do you like your coffee?”
“Milk and sugar.”
“Be right back.” Gabe went back for the cups, fixed Lia’s the way she’d directed, and brought them back to the table. “Girls, be careful of the hot cups.”
“Bay-gul, Dad-dee.”
“Coming up, Emmy.”
Maddie eyed Olivia’s bagel. “I like raisins, too. Do you like raisins, Daddy?”
Gabe despised raisins and shook his head. “Uh-uh, no way, no raisins for me.”
Giggling, Maddie asked, “Did you ever try raisins? You can’t know you don’t like them unless you try them first. Right, right?”
He grinned at her attempt to make him eat the words he’d said to her so many times. “I have tried them and don’t like them. But if you like raisins, you should eat them.”
“Next time, I can get two bagels. A rainbow one and a raisin one. Or three! Do you like raisins, Lia?”
“Love them.”
He glanced at Olivia. She was still quieter than normal and he wished he could figure out how to make things right for her. “How about you, Liv? Are you pro-raisin?”
She shrugged. “I think they look disgusting but I like how they taste.”
“Okay, that’s two pro-raisin, one anti-raisin, and one moderate.”
“What’s that mean, Daddy?”
“Moderate means Olivia is so-so about raisins. Pro means you and Lia like them. And anti means I’m against them.”
“Oh. I’m anti-vegetables ’cause they’re ’sgusting.”
Lia hid a smile behind her cup but he laughed. “Vegetables may be disgusting, Maddie, but they’re super-fuel for your body.”
“Here we go, Ivers family.” Ben slid a tray covered in bagels to their table. “One rainbow, one plain, one everything, one whole wheat, and one cinnamon raisin.”
Lia’s smile froze on her face and Gabe wondered why—Oh. Right. Ivers family. He shrugged it off. If Ben wanted to think they were a thing, more power to him.
“Yay!” Emmy applauded. Ben bowed and made Maddie giggle.
Ben handed Gabe a paper bag. “That’s your to-go order plus a few treats for the girls.”
Gabe smiled. “Thanks, man.”
“Enjoy.”
“Okay, everybody. Dig in.”
Olivia ate in silence. Maddie chattered about how good raisins and rainbows tasted. Emmy danced in a wooden high chair. Gabe just kept watching Lia while simultaneously worrying about Kim wanting to sleep and Olivia wanting to skip soccer.
When Olivia finished her juice, she jumped up. “I have to go to the bathroom.”
“Me, too! Me, too!” Maddie sprang to attention, but Gabe’s hand on her shoulder kept her seated.
“Do you really need to go to the bathroom or do just want to be with Liv?”
Maddie hesitated, just for a moment, and Gabe knew the truth. “Ducky, I know you love your sisters, but you have to give them privacy sometimes. Do you know what that means?”
Brown eyes wide, she shook her head. “Uh-uh. What?”
“Privacy is being private about some things so that only you know about them. Going to the bathroom is private. What’s under your clothes is private.”
“Oh, like your—”
“And sometimes—” Gabe quickly cut her off before she brought up the whole ‘big thing’ story in front of Lia “—sometimes, you need to stop asking people a hundred questions and just let them be. Understand?”
Maddie thought about that for a minute and then shook her head. “I like questions. Questions are how I know if someone’s my friend or not. Are you my friend, Emmy?” she asked the baby.
Emmy, who was just two, answered as two-year-olds are compelled to do. “No!”
“That’s not nice,” Maddie protested.
“Eat your breakfast, Maddie.” Gabe angled his seat so he could keep an eye on the restroom from here. He hated public bathrooms, hated having to bring the girls into the men’s room but hated even more when they insisted on going alone. But he knew Ben’s. The restroom here was a single toilet. As long as the door was locked, Liv was safe.
“So, Gabriel. Are you working on any new projects?” Lia asked and he stared at her dumbly. “You mentioned you’re an engineer?”
Oh, right. “Funny you should ask that. I just returned to that work. One day a week, but it’s cool. We’re removing the fire escapes from a downtown residential building and updating all the stairwells to the current fire codes.”
She sipped coffee, licked her lips and he shifted on his chair. “Removing the fire escapes?”
“Yeah. Most new structures don’t have them. Instead, the stairwells are fireproof.”
She nodded. “I never knew that.”
He glanced toward the restroom again. Liv was finally on her way back and he relaxed. He told Lia all about his work and it wasn’t until Emmy let out a squeal of protest that he realized he was boring all of them. “And that’s probably way more than anybody ever needed to hear about structural design.”
Lia waved a hand. “Actually, it was interesting. You must be very good at it.”
Gabe’s face warmed. “I am. But how can you tell?”
“Because you love it. You love talking about it.”
He shrugged. “I do love it. Not sure how good I am at it these days.” He took a bite of his bagel.
“Why not?” Lia handed Maddie
a napkin.
Gabe gave Emmy her cup of juice. “Well, you’ve seen my place. I’m keep trying to eke out more space, but it’s like squeezing blood from a stone. Five of us in four rooms is tough, but that’s the apartment that comes with the superintendent job. I can afford the difference in rent on a bigger unit once I earn some extra money, but for now, I have to make this unit work.”
Lia’s eyes lit up. “I can help you with that. I helped research a book called Small Spaces.”
Nodding, he sipped some coffee. “Like your newsletter? Nice job, by the way.”
“Thanks. And yes, the newsletter idea sprung from that project.”
“I like the life hacks section,” he admitted. “Okay.” He circled his hand. “Let’s hear your ideas for making this apartment work.”
“Well, you could give the girls your larger bedroom.”
“Dad-dee has a big bed.”
Lia exchanged a grin with him and he shrugged. “The girls always want to sleep in my bed.”
“It’s really comfy, Daddy,” Maddie announced.
“There’s a lot you can do, Gabriel,” Lia continued. “Built-ins, furniture that does double duty.”
He nodded. “I’ve been looking at pull-out sofa beds.”
“That’s one option. Have you thought about a Murphy bed? They’re a great way to gain extra space.” Lia took out her phone, tapped the screen, then showed him a website.
He took her phone, scrolled through the pictures. He’d never even thought about hideaway beds. The pictures were impressive. Some were desks, others were bookcases and still others were sofas when the bed was folded.
“They’re not that expensive and they install fairly easily—or so I’m told… What?” Lia caught the way he was staring at her.
“I am thoroughly embarrassed that I never thought of this.”
“Can I see, Daddy?” Maddie stood up. She studied the pictures and frowned. “I don’t want to sleep folded up.”
Laughing, he shook his head. “It’s okay, Ducky. It’s only folded up when you’re not sleeping.” He took Lia’s phone back, synapses firing at light speed, and wished he had a sketch pad. If he put a Murphy system on the wall where the living room bookcase stood, that would free up his room—Oh! He could put similar beds in that room so the girls would have not only a place to sleep, but also a place to hang out. Kimberly would be thirteen in a few months. He’d much rather have her home than hanging out in places he couldn’t keep an ear—or an eye—on things.
“Dad-dee, pee-pee.”
Startled, he froze for a second and then remembered Emmy had no diaper on. “Right! Potty. Hold on, Emmy. Hold on.” He grabbed the bag off the stroller, quickly scooped Emmy from the high chair and hurried to the restroom where Emmy hit the bull’s-eye. “Good girl. High five!”
“Yay! I tell Ee-uh.”
Lia. Shit. The girls. He’d… Jeez, he’d just left Liv and Maddie out there. He hadn’t thought twice about it. He’d, well, he’d just assumed that Lia—
He chased after the baby, found her already on Lia’s lap, telling her all about the potty. Maddie was doing her chair-dance thing and then held up a raisin to Lia’s mouth that she gobbled up with a little growl. Liv slumped over the table, picking her bagel apart. She brightened considerably when something Lia said impressed her.
“Dad, Lia recorded that interview with LeeAnne Walters. Remember the one I said I wanted to see but you said no? Anyway, she said I could watch it. Can I do that with her later?”
Gabe winced. He was supposed to do that and completely forgot. “Sure thing, Liv.” He sat down, grabbed his coffee. Lia looked at him sideways.
“Something wrong?”
He shook his head. “No. Everything’s…great.”
“I’m sorry. I should have checked with you first. I didn’t think.” Lia put a hand on his arm, which sent his hormone levels happily into orbit. “If you want, I’ll lend you that book so you can figure out what plans would work in your apartment. We could look through it while Liv’s watching the documentary.”
“Yeah. It’s fine. That would be great.”
There was that word again. But the really weird part was…he wasn’t lying. Not one bit.
*
On the walk home, Lia held Maddie’s hand—but remembered to ask Gabriel first if that was okay.
It was.
Lia tried not to read anything into that, tried not to make a big deal out of it, but this was his daughter. He was trusting her with one of his children. What deal got any bigger?
Maddie chattered all the way back to the building and Lia admired Gabriel’s patience answering questions like why bagels had holes, why raisins were wrinkly, and why she couldn’t eat bagels for lunch and dinner, too. Emmy pointed out things of interest along the way, shouting out Bird! Car! Puppy! whenever the need arose.
Lia had never had more fun.
“Okay, girls, you stay with Lia. I’ll give Kim her bagel and be right back.”
“’Kay, Daddy.”
In her living room, Lia queued up the recorded documentary she’d made. “Here you go, Liv.”
When Olivia said nothing, Lia turned to Maddie.
“Maddie, would you like to read a book or color?”
“Ooo, I love to color.”
“Got you covered.” Lia took out some paper and markers and set Maddie up in the kitchen. Emmy wanted to color, too, so Lia had a little brainstorm. She shoved her coffee table into the kitchen, grabbed some throw pillows from the sofa, and organized the two younger girls there so Olivia could watch her documentary in peace.
“Olivia, can I get you anything?”
“No.”
Lia pressed her lips together.
“Thanks,” she added, suddenly remembering manners.
Smiling, Lia opened the rear door when Gabriel knocked. He walked in, grinned at his girls at their little art station.
“Where’s Kimberly?”
His smile faded. “She says she’s tired but I managed to coax her up for the bagel. I hope she’s not coming down with something.” He put a large sketch pad on her kitchen table. “I brought this so we could sketch ideas out.”
She winced. “Um, yeah. I’m not so good at sketching.”
“That’s okay. I am. Just give me a second.” He stepped into her living room, checked on Olivia. “How’s the show?”
“Good.”
Lia bit back a grin when Olivia didn’t even look at her father. Gabe shook his head and rejoined her in the kitchen.
“That’s some desk you got,” he said, jerking his finger over his shoulder. “Mission control.”
“Yep,” she said proudly. “I was going to make an office out of one of the bedrooms, but like working down here more. I really love it, but have to call the store and set up service.”
“How come?”
“It’s damaged. One of the drawers is warped.”
“I’ll take a look.”
Lia shook her head. “Not necessary.”
“It’s not a problem. This is what I do.”
He crossed in front of Olivia’s line of sight, earning a hiss, and examined the three drawers in the desk’s base. He opened and closed them, saw the problem immediately. He returned to the kitchen. “You got a flathead screwdriver?”
“Sure.” She went to the drawer where she kept her tools, handed him the screwdriver and followed him back to the corner of the living room where the desk was. He opened the drawer as far as it would move, slid his hands along the metal side rails, pressed on something and just like that, the whole drawer came out of the desk.
She watched him crouch down, carefully eye the tracks on both the desk and on the drawer. With the screwdriver, he pressed a spot on the track, then eyeballed it again. Satisfied it was straight, he replaced the drawer and closed it. Lia’s mouth dropped open.
“That’s it? It’s fixed?
“That’s it.”
“You really are Super Man. Thank you so much.”
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“Daddy, I can’t hear.”
“Oops. Sorry, Liv.” He handed Lia back her screwdriver and went back to the kitchen.
“Seriously,” Lia began after she put the screwdriver away. “You did that in like three minutes.”
He shrugged. “No big deal.”
She sat beside him at the kitchen table and began paging through his book, studying the pencil sketches of buildings, houses, a set of bunk beds, and…and a dog house? “These are amazing, Gabriel. Like really good. Have you ever done people?”
His gaze met hers, held. “I have some of the girls,” he admitted with a shrug.
“Could I see them?”
He laughed, low and soft. “Are you asking to see my…etchings?”
Lia’s face burst into flame. “I’ll just go find that book.” She hurried into the living room, searched the tall bookcase beside her desk for the Small Spaces book she’d help research and took it back to Gabriel, who was on his knees showing Maddie how to draw a puppy for Emmy.
She froze near the kitchen door, saw the connection that linked them, unmistakably, as a family. Emmy’s blue eyes, the shape of Maddie’s face—they were Gabriel’s. But it wasn’t just their DNA. It was the trust that filled the girls’ eyes when they looked at him. And it was the naked pride that filled his when he looked back.
She’d never have this. Even if she did take Roseann up on her amazing offer to carry a child for her, half that hypothetical baby’s DNA would be a mystery. Whose features would she see on a small face?
Tears gathered behind her eyes as the cold hard fist of that reality squeezed her heart.
“Lia. What’s wrong?”
Suddenly, Gabriel was there, his hands on her arms, his face full of concern. Deliberately, she took a step back, shivered when his hands fell to his sides. “It’s…silly. I’m being silly. Don’t mind me.” She waved her hand, swatting at that cold hard reality like it was an insect. “Come on. Let’s get to work.”
