Because she answered with a giggle, Luke climbed the steps. “Where’s your partner in mischief?” She didn’t need to tell him. He found Brooke on the floor of the master bedroom beside the telephone.
Seeing him, she dropped the receiver and scooted past him out the door.
“Down. Down,” Traci insisted, wiggling in his arms.
He thought twice about it. One on the loose could get in enough trouble. “Go watch television,” he instructed before lowering her to the floor. As she scurried away, he replaced the telephone receiver, then did a damage survey of the room. Seeing nothing dumped or broken, he strolled out.
“Are they up here?” Val called to him, standing at the top of the stairs.
He’d thought they’d both gone downstairs. “No, I-”
She took off before he could finish and sailed into one bathroom. “They have to be downstairs,” she yelled at him.
He followed, reaching the bottom step to see her dashing toward the kitchen. Luke chose a different path of searching, and relied on sound. Soft giggles drifting to him, when Val reappeared, he pointed toward his den. “They’re in there,” he said in a low voice.
Contently the twins sat on the floor near his desk, emptying drawers and tossing around papers.
At being caught in the act, Brooke simply grinned, but Traci scrambled to a stand and raced to Val to tug on her hand. “Pee, pee.”
Luke had his doubts. “It’s a diversion.”
“Could be,” Val agreed, not missing both laughter and skepticism in his voice. “But I can’t take a chance that it is.”
Alone with Brooke, Luke set her in front of her toy computer and started picking up the papers. He looked away from her for no more than a minute. When he looked back, she was gone.
He crossed the room in a few long strides and visually scanned the dining and living rooms. With a turn, he spotted her climbing from the kitchen stool onto the counter. Taking no chances, he hit the floor on a skid and snagged her before she lost her balance.
Leaning back against the counter, he recalled that he’d been feeling guilty about missing his morning run lately. With them around, he didn’t need an exercise program. “Go by your sister,” he said, seeing Val setting Traci down in front of the television set.
After putting the stool into the utility closet and out of the temptation of little hands, he reclaimed his toolbox from the other room.
By one-thirty, he’d almost finished with the locks on kitchen cabinets.
“I’ll never get organized,” Val muttered, entering the kitchen from the garage.
In a far corner of the room, Traci crawled through one of the large, empty boxes. “Be a doggie, Brooke.”
“Moo-moo.”
Luke’s chuckle lifted Val’s head from a carton of dollhouse furniture. She assumed it was because she hadn’t heard the sound in so long that it warmed her instantly. She started to smile but didn’t. He wasn’t looking at the girls now. He was staring at her in a way too familiar for her to pretend it was a casual glance. Her heart beating faster, she raked her fingers through her short strands. In a few hours she’d learned one thing for certain. The constant nearness after not being around each other for so long was going to cause a few problems. “If you’re going to be in here for a while longer, I’m going to put some of the clothes in dressers.”
“I’ll keep an eye on them.” As she swept by, like a wave of freshness, her scent floated over him. Luke inhaled deeply, absorbing it. If she wanted to play fair, she wouldn’t wear that damn perfume.
In between fastening safety locks on the sliding-glass door, he checked on the girls. Still trailing each other through the box, they tooted and shrieked what sounded to him like choo-choo. Assured they were occupied, he returned to the job he’d started. Only a few moments passed.
“Luke!” Rather than alarm, he heard urgency in his wife’s voice.
What could be wrong now? He dropped the screwdriver into the toolbox and in three strides reached the stairs. “What’s wrong?”
She flew down the steps, past him and dashed to the kitchen. “The toilet overflowed.”
Luke followed to find her rummaging in the utility closet. “What did you do?”
She stepped out of the closet, holding a mop and a bucket filled with rags. Strands of hair around her face glistened with moisture. Her soaked T-shirt clung like a second skin. “I found the water shutoff valve,” she said before sprinting past him.
That wasn’t what he’d meant, but he was glad she had. He didn’t have any idea where the damn thing was located. Taking two steps at a time, he climbed the steps to catch up with her. “Dropped too much paper into it again, did you?”
Not thrilled at his assumption that she was the guilty party, Val tipped up her chin and swung a slow look back at him. “Excuse me,” she said tightly.
At the landing, he fell into step beside her. “I thought we’d worked this out. When you do your ritual…”
She fired a withering look up at him. “My ritual?”
“When you cream your face, dump the tissue in the waste-”
“It’s two in the afternoon,” she cut in. “Why would I be cleaning my face?”
That shut him up.
So did the puddle on the bathroom floor.
Standing beside her outside the bathroom door, he said the obvious. “It’s wet in there.”
Val had the good sense not to say what she was thinking. “Here’s the plunger.” She thrust it at him, then stripped off her sneakers and socks to mop the floor.
“Damn.” Yanking off his socks, he kept staring at the floor as if he’d never seen water before. “How could one of them have gotten up here without being noticed? I thought they were playing with the box the whole time.”
Head bent, Val slopped the mop around on the floor to dry up the excess water. “They’re wily.”
Barefoot, he squeezed by her. “They’re only two.”
“It’s a trait learned at an early age,” she said, wringing the mop water into a bucket.
While he shoved his arm into the toilet water, he grumbled, “These hands aren’t meant for this.”
Val bit back a laugh. “What was thrown in there?” she asked in her best serious tone under the circumstances.
Scowling, Luke withdrew his arm and held up a bright orange plastic dinosaur.
He looked so disdainful at the toy that Val barely stifled her grin. “Did you get toilet seat clamps when you were at the hardware store?”
“They’re in the bag.”
She thought it wise to leave before she began to laugh. “I’ll get them.” She hurried down the steps but paused long enough to see the twins still tunneling through the box. She returned to him and the sound of the toilet flushing. “All fixed?”
His lips curved in a slow-spreading smug smile.
Machismo was alive and well, Val mused. He’d made one simple household repair and acted as if he belonged on the television sitcom “Home Improvement.” “I’ll mop first, then you can put on these clamps. But I have to get downstairs. They can’t be alone too long.”
“An understatement.” Unexpected humor colored his tone. “We’re learning that, aren’t we?” His voice trailed off.
Val knew why. Quietness meant trouble. She whipped around. One step into the hallway, she stopped.
Without her saying a word, Luke guessed some disaster had struck. “What now?” he asked, joining her in the hallway.
Zigzagging in and out of rooms, Traci madly dashed with toilet paper trailing her.
“Where do you think Brooke is?” Val asked with a glance toward the stairs.
Luke charged for their bedroom. Rarely were the twins far apart.
Enjoying herself, Brooke sat on the floor in the master bedroom, busily dumping a wastebasket.
“Which one’s mess do you want to clean up?” Val asked from behind him in the doorway.
“Call it,” Luke said on a laugh.
“I’ll take the to
ilet paper queen.”
Chapter Three
“Who bombed this place?”
Carrying the mop and bucket to the kitchen, Luke swiveled a look at the gray-haired man standing at the front door. Amusement sparkled in Edwin’s brown eyes while he scanned the messy living room.
From the stairs, Val made an excuse about the disarray. “Gramps, we don’t have them settled in yet.”
Slowly he hunkered down to where the twins were playing with blocks. “What could take so long? Two tykes like this can’t bring much with them.”
Luke chuckled, drawing a frown from Val.
“Keep your eyes on them for a minute,” she requested, wanting to change her damp T-shirt.
“Do you want coffee or an ice tea?” Luke asked her grandfather.
Trailing him into the kitchen, Edwin played out a moment of hesitation before answering. “You choose. And I’ll choose the topic of conversation.”
Crusty, Edwin never failed to amuse Luke. “I bet you will,” he said, giving Edwin a tolerant smile as he closed the door of the utility closet.
Edwin’s bushy gray brows rose above the top of his wire-rimmed glasses. “While we’re alone, I want to discuss my granddaughter.” As if pained, he pushed his glasses forward and massaged the bridge of his nose. “This divorce is a dumb decision. You never said. Is it your idea or hers?” he asked, shoving his glasses back.
“I don’t remember.” Luke avoided placing blame. Too much fell on him.
“How can you not remember something that important? Never mind, never mind. I’ll tell you what you have to do.” Suddenly on a roll, he added, “You need to win your wife back. And you’d better do something before some other guy muscles in.” As the girls tramped in, Edwin retrieved a soft peppermint candy for each girl from his shirt pocket.
Thank-you’s came in unison.
“You have an advantage, Luke,” Edwin mumbled while shoving a peppermint into his mouth. Sucking on the candy, he offered a closed-lip grin at Luke and started stacking the blocks that the girls had brought in with them. Blond heads tipping, the twins watched intently.
“What’s that?” Luke asked.
“Love.”
Love doesn’t seem to be enough, Luke wanted to tell him.
“Just so you don’t think I’m picking on you, let me tell you that I told her the same thing.”
Luke couldn’t stop himself from asking. “What did she say?”
Edwin grimaced. “Nothing. That’s what she said. Nothing.”
Preparing himself for an onslaught of advice, Luke sat back in his chair and decided to lighten his own mood by enjoying Edwin’s spiel.
“Sometimes people-” Edwin silenced in midsentence as the girls toppled the tower of blocks he’d just built. He started again. “Sometimes people have no sense,” he muttered. “They make problems for themselves.” He restacked the blocks, then looked up, frowning. “Don’t you have any understanding of my problems?”
Warily, Luke narrowed his eyes. “I wasn’t aware that you had problems.”
“Of course, you are. Few of my friends can even stand the men that their daughters or granddaughters married. I was one of the lucky ones.”
Luke chuckled. “You do have a smooth tongue, old man.”
“I’m not paying any attention to your snide remarks. Face it,” he insisted, “You were damn lucky, too. You got my granddaughter.”
Luke had always thought he was. Val had been all he’d ever wanted. “Everything is different,” he answered. “And you know why. You know what went wrong.”
“But in time-”
“Nothing is that simple,” Luke reminded him.
“All I’m asking,” Edwin appealed, “is to consider what I suggested.”
Puzzled, Luke looked up. “And what is that?”
“Romance.” Edwin regarded him with a thoughtful expression. “Romance her.”
Luke laughed. Edwin never failed to surprise him.
“Win your wife back,” Edwin said slowly as if Luke were mentally slow. “It’s-” His attention zeroed in on the stairs and Val’s descent. “It’s a great idea.”
Catching the end of the conversation, Val paused before entering the kitchen. “What’s a great idea?” That her grandfather avoided looking at her assured her he was definitely up to something.
“That I come back tomorrow and help out.”
“Why not now?” she questioned while handing Brooke the Raggedy Ann doll from the counter that she was stretching to reach.
“And miss Monday night football?” he asked as if she were crazy.
On a laugh, Val waved her hand. “’Bye, then.”
“’Bye, sweetie.” He planted a quick kiss on her cheek on his way to the door. “You got company,” he called back, leaving the door open.
“Hi.” Irene breezed in with a giant-size panda under each arm and a shopping bag dangling from her wrist.
It took little brain power for Val to guess her mother-in-law had come bearing goodies and a determination to spoil the twins.
They rushed to Irene, eyeing the pandas. “One for each of you.”
Hugging hers, Traci gazed up at Irene over the panda’s shoulder and wrapped her other arm around Irene’s leg. “Tank you.”
Like a beaming, proud grandparent, Irene ran a hand over Traci’s cornsilk hair. “You’re welcome.”
More restrained, Brooke had yet to accept her panda.
Val knew that Irene would be patient. Carrie had gained celebrity status after she’d had the twins. Everyone who’d known the Dawsons had oohed and aahed about the twins from the day Carrie had brought them home from the hospital. With each passing day, those same people had noticed Brooke tended to approach people more cautiously, to contemplate each new adventure, while Traci, the extrovert, plunged impulsively forward.
“I’ll carry it for you for now,” Irene suggested, not rushing Brooke to accept her gift.
That earned Irene a slim smile from the little one.
“What are you playing with?” Irene asked.
“Dolls,” Traci answered.
“Oh, I love dolls. Do you have others?” With Traci’s nod, Irene beamed at her. “Will you show me where they are?”
“Irene.” Val hated to ruin Irene’s fun, but she recalled how Carrie had always said that a missed naptime meant an evening with Cranky and Crabby. “It’s naptime.”
“Oh, is it?” Her eyes fixed on the twins, Irene kept smiling. “Well, you and Lucas sit down, have a cup of coffee or a glass of ice tea and relax. Come on, girls.” Irene snagged a small hand in each of her own and urged the twins to the stairs. “Show me your room.”
Traci raised big blue eyes to Irene. “Polly’s there.”
Irene had had enough contact with the girls to know that Polly was Traci’s baby doll. “I imagine Polly is already napping.”
Traci bobbed her head agreeably.
“That’s good.” At the stairs, Irene glanced askance. “Valerie, you’re not sitting. Sit. I’ll put them down.”
Val really wanted to. In less than twenty-four hours she’d learned one vital lesson to survival. When the twins rested, so should she, but she felt nervous. With the twins upstairs, safely being watched by Irene, it was just Luke and her again. “I think I’ll get some of this picked up.”
Her voice had sounded breathy to him. Because of him? Luke wondered.
“Gramps left quickly.”
“He had his say.”
“And what was that?”
Thoughtfully he studied her. “What you’d expect from him. Basically he told me that I was losing the best thing in my life.” With the sole of his sneaker, he nudged at the leg of the chair, pushing it out for her. “Why don’t you take a minute to rest?”
Val said nothing. What could she say? I needed you, and you didn’t need me. She walked into the living room, sank onto the chair and avoided Luke’s stare as he followed her. It seemed best to her to keep conversation off the subject of them. “We
need to get a bigger toy box.”
Luke saw what she did. It looked as if they’d been burglarized. Sofa cushions were strewn, along with toys and dolls, across the plush carpeting. “A moving van parked in the backyard might work.” Her smile came quickly, unexpectedly. With effort, he looked away and down at his glass. “Want a sip?”
As he held out his glass to her, she leaned forward for it. They could still be friends, she told herself. No anger or fights had split them. They’d simply drifted apart. So even if their marriage was over, why couldn’t they remain friends? Lots of mature people managed such a relationship. “Seriously, do you think we’ll ever get this place in order?”
An easy task. It was their life they hadn’t been able to put back together. “What’s order?”
Val raised her eyes to him. How with a few simple words did he manage to zero in on the crux of the problem? What used to be, no longer existed. “How did Carrie do this? I couldn’t have dreamed this would be so difficult, could you? Carrie always looked so in control, so calm.”
In his opinion, she wasn’t giving herself enough credit. For someone who liked everything in its place, she was handling the messiness with motherly panache. “She came upon this responsibility naturally.” As she angled forward to return the glass, his gaze wandered to the strain of cotton at her breasts. Little things kept churning him up. He’d been blocking desire for her, but it was in full force again, he realized. “You’re getting them with their motors in high gear.”
Val brushed back her bangs. “I didn’t have a chance to ask earlier. Is your patient okay? The one you checked on last night.”
Unlike some of his colleagues’ wives, she’d always revealed a kindness, a caring about the patients, a genuine interest in what he was dealing with. “It was touch and go for a while, but I believe he’ll be okay. I have an idea about all this,” he said, indicating the mess in the living room.
Consciously she concentrated on relaxing muscles in her shoulders. There was no reason to be so tense. They were talking with ease. That was a good start. “What idea?” she asked, leaning back in her chair.
Married...With Twins! Page 4
