Miss Fix-It

by Hart, Emma

  “Yeah, well, you started that with us when you told everyone I’d stayed late or whatever it was you said.”

  He frowned for a moment. I watched as realization dawned, and he laughed hard. “Oh, god. I never told you.”

  “Never told me what?” I narrowed my eyes.

  Brantley scratched the back of his neck. “I never said that. It was a joke. I was fucking with you.”

  I leaned over the table and smacked his arm. “Oh my god. All that stress, and for what? You ass!”

  “I’m sorry.” He didn’t look sorry at all. “I forgot I never said.”

  “Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

  This time, his laughter was silent. “Well, there you go. Now, you know.” He sipped his coffee, eyes shining with mirth. “I did actually want to talk to you about something.”

  “I should have known there was a catch with this lunch thing,” I said. “Does that mean it’s not a date?”

  “It’s a half-date,” he replied.

  “I think I can deal with that. What did you want to talk about?”

  He paused.

  And I knew. I knew exactly what he was about to say.

  “You heard my conversation with Ellie, didn’t you?” I beat him to it.

  He nodded. “I was coming up to check she wasn’t being a pain in your ass. I don’t think I heard it all, but I heard enough.”

  I swallowed. God—what if he thought I’d overstepped my bounds? Had I overstepped? Should I have just not had that conversation with her at all?

  “I’m sorry,” I started. “If I shouldn’t have talked about it with her, but I didn’t know what to say.”

  His brows twitched into a frown. “What? No—it’s not that all. I wanted to, first, thank you for how you handled it. I could tell she came at you from left field with her questions.”

  I blew out a long breath and slumped back a little in my seat. “Honestly, yeah. And I knew what she was fishing for, but…” I trailed off, looking away.

  “But that’s not what you want,” he finished for me.

  Not coldly, not sadly, not anything. Just a statement.

  One that was true.

  Or one that was.

  Was…

  Maybe.

  I picked at my napkin. “I don’t know how to respond to that,” I admitted quietly. “I don’t know, Brant. That would have been true even a week ago, but I don’t know how I feel right now.”

  He raised his eyebrows, surprise glinting in his turquoise gaze. “That wasn’t what I was expecting you to say.”

  “Well, I…” I sighed. What the hell could I say? How could I explain feelings I didn’t understand? “I don’t know what to say to you.”

  He rested his forearms on the table and leaned forward. “You don’t have to say anything to me. You don’t owe me any kind of explanation, no matter how much I want one for that vague-ass answer.”

  I half-smiled. “There are a lot of things in my head right now. I’m basically arguing with myself a whole lot.”

  “Careful. I don’t want you to think too hard and hurt yourself.”

  I stared at him flatly.

  He grinned at me. A real boyish grin that sent butterflies through my stomach. “I still just want to say thank you for the way you handled her. She notices a lot, and…it’s not always a good thing. For the record, you already know that what she said is true.”

  A lump formed in my throat. “I know.”

  He took a deep breath. “And I like you, Kali. I like you a lot.”

  My heart skipped.

  “I know it’s hard and it’s complicated, but I wanted to make that clear to you.” He paused, then scratched at his jaw. “The last thing I expected when I moved here was to find someone like you.”

  His words curled and curved through my body, grabbing hold of me.

  The last thing I expected when I knocked on your door was to find someone like you.

  That was what I wanted to say. But, the words wouldn’t come.

  I was saved from an immediate reply by the arrival of our food. After a quick check on whether we had everything, we were left to ourselves and I finally grew a pair and asked the question about something I hadn’t realized was even bothering me until now.

  “Can I ask you something?” I met his eyes.

  “Anything.”

  I licked my lips. “Am I…” Deep breath. “Am I the first? Since she died?”

  He stared at me for a moment, then nodded his head. Just once. “I’m a father before anything else. I wasn’t looking to meet anyone when I met you.”

  I swallowed. “I get that. I was just wondering.”

  He smiled wryly. “Well, I’m so glad we got to have a nice, light conversation over lunch.”

  I stared at him for a moment, my lips twitching, then started to laugh. “You’re the one who wanted this chat.”

  “True. It escalated, though.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  He picked up his fork and let his lips curl into a small smile. “I hope not.”

  ***

  Ellie stared at me. “Are you done yet?”

  I glanced up into the doorway. “Nope. Not quite.”

  She sighed and leaned against the frame. “Oh, gosh. It’s taking so wong.”

  I fought back laughter. “I’m sorry. Maybe three more days. Four at most. Is that okay for you?”

  “Can’t you do it kicker?”

  “’Fraid not. I wish I could.” She had no idea.

  “Dat’s okay.” She put her hands in the pockets of her skirt. “Daddy’s working and Ewi is asweep on the sofa. I bored.”

  I tilted my head to the side. “Okay. Did you want to help me?”

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m building your toybox. See the pink lid?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Can I do some scwewing?” Hope flashed across her face.

  “Sure. Come sit.” I waved her over. “Here’s a screwdriver for you.”

  “Oh. It’s pink,” she breathed.

  “They’re all pink.” I grinned and moved the toolbox between us. “See?”

  “Wow.” Wonder crossed her little face. “Dat’s ‘mazin’.”

  I grinned.

  “How do you know which one you need?”

  “Which screwdriver?” I clarified.

  She nodded, clutching hold of the handle so tight her knuckles went white.

  “The screws are different. Look.” I picked up one of the crosshead screws and showed it to her. “If you look the head of your screwdriver, it matches the shape. See?”

  She made a great show of looking at both the screw and the screwdriver.

  “If you put it in, it should fit.” I pinched the sharp end of the screw and held it out to her. “Try it.”

  She did just that, poking it. Except I’d given her one that was a size too big.

  “Oh, hold on. That’s too big. They come in different sizes, see?” I pointed at the screwdriver. “You need a smaller one.”

  “Can I get it?” she asked.

  “Sure. See if you can find the next size down.”

  “Okay.” She rifled through them, checking each one until she came to a flathead screwdriver. “It’s different.” She held it up.

  “Yep, there are two types. I don’t think I have any screws that it would fit, but not all screws have the cross. Some have one line, and that’s what you’d use a flathead—that’s what it’s called—screwdriver for. But, if you have a cross screw and don’t have the right crosshead screwdriver, you can use a flat one.”

  “Weawy?”

  “Yep. Poke the screw with a smaller, flat one.”

  She got one of the small ones out and did it. More delight crossed her face. “Okay. I need a cwoss one, doe, wight?”

  I smiled. “Yes, you need a cross one. Did you find it yet?”

  She nodded. “You sittin’ on it.”

  I plucked the screwdriver from next to my thigh with a grin. “Here you go.”
I put the screw in the pre-drilled hole and twisted it a few times. “Okay, come here.” I patted my thighs, and she came to sit on me. “Now, very carefully, put the screwdriver in the screw and twist it clockwise, okay?”

  “Why cockwise?”

  I bit back a laugh. “Clockwise is to the right. That’s how you tighten screws. There’s even a rhyme my daddy taught me when I was little.”

  “What is it?”

  “Righty tighty, lefty loosey.”

  “Wighty tighty, wefty woosey.”

  It had a certain charm coming from her.

  “That’s it. Turn right to tighten, and left to loosen.”

  “Okay. Can I do it now?”

  “Sure. Do it as tight as you can.”

  She leaned forward and, oh so carefully, inserted the head of the screwdriver into the screw. She turned the screwdriver, sticking her tongue out of the side of her mouth. I leaned around to see her face—she wore the mask of complete concentration.

  Tongue out, eyes narrowed, brows drawn together.

  It was the most adorable thing.

  “Dere,” she said, sitting back. “I did it.”

  “Amazing job!” I squeezed her lightly. “Can I please have the screwdriver to check how tight it is?”

  She nodded and handed it over to me.

  I checked. She’d barely turned it at all, but she was having fun, so it was what it was. I tightened the screw the rest of the way and grabbed the next one. At least I was almost done.

  “I do again?” Ellie asked hopefully.

  “Sure.”

  She wore the same expression as she turned it. The sticking out tongue was my favorite part of all of it.

  “Ellie, you’re quiet. What are you—” Brantley stopped in the doorway, phone to his ear. “Oh. You’re here.”

  Ellie turned to look at him. “Ewi fell asweep. Kawi said I could help.”

  He looked at me for confirmation.

  I motioned to the fact she was sitting on my lap.

  His lips tugged up. “She’s not bothering you, is she?”

  “No, she’s helping. Look. She’s doing the screws.” I pointed to where she was giving it a good try at tightening it. “It’s almost done. She’s enjoying herself.”

  “Okay. If you’re sure?”

  “She’s fine. If she stops being good, I’ll pick her up and hand deliver her to you in your office, okay?”

  He laughed, holding up a hand. “Okay, okay, fine. I just thought… Crap. Hello?” He ducked away. “Yes, I’m still here.”

  His voice trailed off as he went downstairs.

  Ellie made a clicking noise with her tongue. “Daddy said a bad word.”

  Ah. Crap.

  “He did. Naughty Daddy. Can I try that screw now?”

  She nodded and let me tighten it. We repeated this over and over until all the screws were in place and tight. She even held the lid in place for me while I attached the hinges.

  When it was all said and done, Ellie gently closed down the lid and walked around the box. Then, she stopped in front of it, and with a huge, proud grin on her face, she met my eyes.

  “It’s perfeck, huh?”

  “It sure is,” I agreed. “You did a great job helping me. Thank you.”

  Even if it had taken an extra half an hour.

  She beamed. I’d never seen her so delighted about anything before. “Can I help you tomorrow, too?”

  “You can help me do your bookshelf when you get back from Summer’s. Does that sound good?”

  She nodded. “I’m hungry. Do you fink Daddy cooked me food yet?”

  “I don’t know, but we can find out.” I glanced at the time. It was almost six p.m. No wonder she was hungry.

  Ellie ran downstairs and into the kitchen. I took the time to pack up my tools before following her, but I left the box in her room.

  I went down and found Eli awake, sitting on the sofa, and Ellie pouting in front of him.

  Eli looked at me. “Daddy’s on the phone. He keeps shouting.”

  I frowned and walked toward Brantley’s office. He sounded super frustrated, even though he wasn’t shouting, but there was something about the “damn intern” mentioned a few times.

  I rejoined the twins in the living room. “Daddy’s working, isn’t he?”

  They both nodded.

  “He probably doesn’t know what the time is.” I paused. “Why don’t we go in the kitchen and I can get you some dinner?”

  More nodding. They ran into the kitchen, and when I stepped into the room, Eli was already trying to give Ellie a leg-up onto the counter.

  “Oookay!” I said, waving my hands. “Let’s not do that. I’ll look instead of you two trying to break a bone.”

  “Oh,” Ellie said sadly. But, they both moved, climbing up onto the table via the chairs instead.

  I stared at them.

  Eh. I’d won one battle. Why start another?

  I left them there and opened the cupboard. I had no idea what I was looking for. Pasta? Spaghetti? What did you feed the tiny humans?

  The souls of the elderly or something?

  My eyes fell on two cans of tomato soup.

  Ah-ha.

  “How about tomato soup and grilled cheese?” I asked.

  “Yes!” they shouted, clapping.

  “Okay.” Good. I could do that. “Sit on the chairs, grab a juice, and let me get to work.”

  Miraculously, they did as they were told.

  Well. I’ll be damned.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “Again?” I questioned.

  They both nodded. “Pwease?”

  That simultaneous speak was starting to get a bit less weird. Maybe.

  “One more time, then you have to go to bed.”

  They both looked at me with wide eyes and nodded again.

  “Okay, fine. You twisted my arm.” I’d just opened the front cover of the book to read it for a third time when Brantley’s shout of “Shit! Eli? Ellie?” sounded.

  “In here,” they chorused.

  I shuddered.

  Maybe it wasn’t getting less weird.

  He rushed into the front room, stopping dead when he saw us. His hair was a mess, and he had the look of someone who was both frustrated and confused.

  “Hi,” I said brightly. “Welcome back.”

  He blinked at me. “I’m so confused.” He scrubbed his hand through his hair. “I don’t even know what time it is. There’s no way I’ve been on the phone that long.”

  The twins, bless them, nodded sagely. “Hours, Daddy,” Eli said dramatically.

  “We omost starved!” Ellie added.

  “Oh, stop it. No, you didn’t. We found food just in time, didn’t we?” I said to them.

  “I don’t know,” Eli continued. “It was cwose.”

  “Close! Close? Oh, yes. Look at you. You’re skin and bone.” I gently prodded his side and he dissolved into a fit of giggles.

  Brantley blinked at us. “I don’t know what’s happening here.”

  To be honest, he looked exhausted.

  “Well,” I said, closing the book and putting it on the coffee table. “Me and Ellie finally got done with the coffee table around six. We came down and you were on the phone, so after some attempted Cirque De Soleil moves, we rustled up the delicacy that is soup and grilled cheese, drank some milk and found some pajamas, and read about a dinosaur who poops everything out. Twice. We were about to read it a third time when you graced us with your presence.”

  “Wait. What is the time?”

  “Seven-thirty.”

  “Jesus.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even realize.”

  “It’s okay. We’re all good, right?” I looked at both twins. “We had fun.”

  They both nodded. “Bedtime now?” Ellie asked.

  “Yes. For sure. Come on. I’ll take you up.” Brantley blew out a long breath. “Say goodnight to Kali.”

  “Goodnight, Kawi!” they sang, sc
rambling up off the sofa. Then, they both stopped, turned, and jumped on me. I shrieked as I caught them, and they both planted a big kiss on my cheeks.

  “Fank you,” Eli said.

  “Goodnight,” Ellie echoed.

  I squeezed them both with a laugh. “Night, guys.”

  They grinned and got back up, running off to the stairs again. Brantley stared at me for a moment and held up a finger.

  “Will you wait for me to come back before you leave?” he asked tentatively.

  “Sure.” I smiled.

  He looked as though he wanted to say something else, but changed his mind. He followed after the twins, and I looked at their piles of dirty clothes on the floor.

  Brantley looked shattered, as if he could fall asleep standing up.

  I got up and grabbed them, then ran them through the back to the utility area just off the kitchen. I put them in the dirty laundry, then returned to the front room and picked up the dinosaurs who had been attending Barbie’s wedding to Batman.

  Then, with my hand around the tail of a T-rex, I froze.

  I stared down at the toy in my hand.

  Who had I become?

  Not long ago, the idea of children terrified me. They were tiny, loud hellions who shouted and screamed. They were gross and dirty and messy.

  Now, here I was. I’d taken over seamlessly, feeding them and getting them ready for bed, and now, I was picking up toys. Putting their dirty clothing in the laundry basket.

  The scariest part?

  It felt completely natural.

  Sure, the twins had been scarily well-behaved, but that wasn’t the point.

  A part of me…A part of me felt like I belonged here.

  I took a deep breath and dropped Mr. T-rex into the toybox. He roared as he collided with a dump truck, but I muffled that by slapping the lid on top of the box.

  My mouth was dry. When had I changed from a kid-hater to playing…well, playing mom? When had it happened? Was there a point, or had something changed?

  Was it acceptance of feelings for Brantley?

  Was it his acknowledgment of feelings for me?

  Or had I just fallen so irrevocably in love with two, three-feet-tall pre-schoolers? With tiny hands and sassy grins and dimpled cheeks?

  I mean, I hadn’t even thought twice about getting them ready for bed tonight. I’d just done it, like I knew what I was doing, when I didn’t. Not at all. I didn’t know where their pajamas were. I didn’t know where to put that stupid pooping dinosaur book away.