by Rita Herron
He’d seen Paige go out with Derrick several times. He’d tried to ignore her, but he always ended up brooding until she arrived home. She and Derrick must be getting tighter. Dammit, he missed her. Didn’t she miss him at all?
“It’s your mother on line three,” Clara said.
“Got it.” Zeke grabbed the receiver. “Hi, Mom, what’s up?”
“Well, dear, I promised the girls they could spend the night again. How about this Friday?”
He could send the girls to his mom’s and he and what’s-her-name could have the house to themselves. Instead, he heard himself say, “Wait till Saturday, Mom.”
“Okay. I’ve already made their favorite cupcakes and filled the candy dish.”
Zeke pinched the bridge of his nose. “Great, see you tomorrow, Mom.” He hung up, annoyed with himself. Why hadn’t he taken her up on the Friday night deal? He could have a night alone with his date, maybe enjoy a more adult evening. What color hair did Vicki have anyway?
He ran a hand across his stubbled jaw, trying to remember, but his mind instantly conjured images of Paige. Right now, he’d be satisfied to stay home and watch Bambi with the twins and his sexy neighbor. Especially if he could share a bowl of buttered popcorn with Paige.
Well, almost satisfied.
THE PAST TWO weeks, Paige had submerged herself in her design project, worked on Amelia’s wedding dress and spent several evenings with Derrick house hunting. Derrick had narrowed it down to three choices. Hopefully, he’d decide on one soon. Her patience was wearing thin. She’d wanted to be choosing her own house—a new place for her and her own husband. Worse, she kept picturing Zeke’s face everywhere she went—in the kitchen making coffee after a long night of lovemaking, in the shower, steaming water dribbling over his hard, angular features, in the bedroom…
She shook herself back to reality. At least Amelia’s dress was almost finished. She simply needed to add the lacy trim and beads on the bodice and the veil.
Friday afternoon, she counted up the checks in the register at Bev’s Boutique and sighed. She’d turned down an invitation to meet another one of Amelia’s friends for happy hour, claiming work as an excuse. Instead, she’d planned a quiet night home, with a good movie and a bowl of popcorn. Now, if only she had someone to share it with, the evening would be perfect. But she remembered her nightmare about Joey and the twins, and knew Zeke couldn’t be the one.
“SUMMER, AUGUST, pick up the den before Vicky and her son arrive, please.” Zeke scraped the food from the leftover dishes and peeked into the den. A tornado zone. Music from The Flintstones drifted through the room and in spite of his request, the twins hadn’t budged from the television set. How had Paige gotten them to cooperate so quickly?
“Girls, Vicky’s bringing dinner any minute. Clean up now.”
“I don’t wanna,” August complained. “Cartoons are on.”
Summer curled up on the couch with her blue bear and sucked her thumb. The kittens climbed from the box where he’d put them under the stairwell and raced around the foyer. The doorbell rang, but the girls simply stared at him, then back at the TV. Henrietta grunted and continued chewing on one of her toys. Some watchdog.
“Girls, they’re here!”
He hurried to the door and swung it open, hoping his girls would behave themselves. They’d been disagreeable ever since he’d told them about his date. Vicky Preston stood on his stoop wearing a short red dress and black heels. Her short dark hair spiked around her oval face. She glanced at his clothes and frowned, prompting him to check for dried blood or animal hair on the front of his shirt.
“Hi, I brought lasagna, I hope that’s okay,” she said in a nasally voice.
“Sounds great,” Zeke said.
“And this is Timmy.” She urged her frowning dark-haired son inside. He grunted when Zeke spoke to him, his face twisting with disgust when he noticed the cartoons. “Don’t you have a Nintendo video system?”
“Sorry,” Zeke said. “But we don’t.”
“Unbelievable.” Joey blew out a breath, momentarily lifting his long bangs off his eyes, then curled his upper lip and gave Zeke a once-over. “Man, I’ve never seen anyone wear a purple shirt with green pants.”
“What?” The girls had mixed up his clothes again! They were going to turn his hair completely gray before he was thirty-five. No wonder Vicky had looked at him so strangely. “Sorry, I’m color-blind. Sometimes I mismatch my clothes.”
Vicky giggled, her pointed chin jutting out, as if she was grateful he had an excuse for his poor taste.
“Let’s eat.” Suddenly eager to hurry the evening along, Zeke called the girls. They groaned and dragged their feet. Timmy stepped on one of August’s ponies and the sound of plastic cracking ripped through the room.
“He broke it on purpose,” August bellowed, pointing her finger in his face.
“Did not,” Timmy snarled.
“Did, too!” To his horror, August slammed her fist into Timmy’s stomach.
Timmy coughed, doubling over as if he’d been mortally wounded, and Vicky threw her arms around her son.
Zeke pulled August away. “Honey, please don’t hit. It’s not ladylike. He’s our guest.”
“But he’s not ladylike.” Summer fisted her small hands on her hips, glaring mutinously at the boy.
“I’m not a lady!” Timmy barked.
“He’s a meanie,” August snapped. “He broked my toy.”
“She’s a stupid girl,” Timmy countered.
Zeke pointed to the table, ushering them into their chairs. “Look, there’s no need to start calling names. You two got off on the wrong foot, so why don’t we all start over.”
Vicki waved a long fingernail toward the casserole dish. “Come on and eat, girls. I think you’ll like the lasagna.”
The twins took their seats, their faces skeptical while Vicky dished up the main course, adding salad and bread. Zeke poured milk and tea and opened the wine, then offered Vicky a glass. He sure needed one.
“What’s that green stuff?” Summer asked, picking at the food.
“It’s spinach, very nutritious,” Vicky said cheerfully. “We’re vegetarians.”
“Yuk!” August cringed.
“Double yuk!” Summer covered her mouth with her hand and ran from the table, spitting the food into the trash can with dramatically exaggerated noises. The loud commotion woke up the mama cat, who promptly leapt onto the table with a screech that jarred his eardrums.
Vicki swiped a hand at the cat. “Get down, you…you beast.”
“Don’t yell at Kitty!” August shouted.
Zeke reached for the cat, but she darted across the table. Vicky’s face paled as the calico whipped her soft tail around, swiping the lasagna with the furry tip.
Zeke removed the animal, scolding it gently while Vicky jumped up and gathered her things. “I’ve never in my life seen such rude children.”
Summer and August stared at Zeke, wide-eyed and innocent, then disappeared to their rooms in a streak of red T-shirts.
“I’m sorry, Vicky,” Zeke said, mortified. “I don’t know what’s wrong with them tonight.” He ordered the girls back to the table, his temper on the verge of exploding. “Come here and apologize.”
The girls inched their way in, their faces contrite. Thank heavens, maybe they could salvage the evening.
“We’re sorry,” August said in a small voice.
“Yeah. We are.” Summer held her hands up in front of her. “Since you’re company, we want you to hold Juney.”
“Who’s Juney? One of your dollies?” Vicky slid long nails through the ends of her wispy hair, her voice suspicious.
Zeke frowned, wondering what mischief the girls were planning now. He’d never seen this mysterious Juney.
“He’s our new frog we found in the backyard.” Summer dropped the croaking animal in Vicky’s lap with a proud grin.
Vicky screamed and jumped backward, bumping the table so hard her wineglass topp
led over. It rolled across the tablecloth and bounced onto the floor with a splintering crash. Henrietta howled at the sound of the noise and the cat darted under the table, mewling like an injured panther.
“Girls!” Zeke’s temper threatened to boil over when Summer and August raced out of the room again, giggling and whispering.
Vicky stood, her face grim. “Timmy, come on. Let’s go. This man obviously has no control over his children.”
Her hostile tone set Zeke’s teeth on edge, but still, she hadn’t deserved such bad treatment from his daughters. “Listen, Vicky, I’m sorry. The girls don’t normally behave so badly.” But he uttered the apology to the wall. Vicky and her son had disappeared, lasagna and all.
Minutes later, after he’d cleaned up the kitchen and broken glass, he strode to the twins’ room, determined to discover the reason for their disruptive behavior. They must still be upset about Renee’s delayed visit.
He found them sitting on the bed, their small legs dangling over the sides, their faces drawn. He sat down and folded his arms. “Girls, I need you two to explain why you misbehaved tonight.”
Summer shrugged, staring at the tips of her sneakers. August simply chewed her fingernail, ignoring him, her gaze fixed on the ceiling.
He made a clicking sound with his teeth. “Come on, out with it. Why did you intentionally ruin tonight? I thought you wanted me to find you a new mother.”
“We do but we didn’t like her,” August said.
“You didn’t give her a chance,” Zeke said, totally baffled.
Summer poked out her lips. “’Cause we don’t want her. Or that stupid boy of hers.”
“We want Paige,” August said. “Not some dumb brother.”
“Yeah. Since our real mommy’s not coming, we want Paige for a mommy.” Summer glared at him. “Not Icky Vicky.”
Zeke’s fingers dug into the pink comforter. “We’ve already talked about this. Paige is a friend, but she wants a career, not a family.”
“She can have her job and us, too,” August said, her lower lip trembling.
“Yeah, you gots a job and us. And Toby’s mommy cuts hair and Beth Ann’s mommy sells drugs.”
Zeke’s heart stopped. “She does what?”
“To hospitals,” August clarified.
His heart started beating again, but tears slipped from Summer’s eyes and his chest clenched, the way it did every time he saw the girls suffering. He knelt beside the twins and wrapped his arms around them. “It’s okay, girls.”
“No, it’s not!” August yelled.
“Paige said if you wants somefin bad enuf you can figure out how to get it.”
Zeke sighed. How he wished that was true. But you couldn’t force someone to be a mother if she didn’t want to. “I know you’re upset about your mom not coming home this month, girls. And I realize you like Paige, but we’ll find someone else we like, too, someone who has time to spend with all of us, who won’t leave—”
“Like Mommy did?” Summer mumbled.
Zeke swallowed, forcing a calm into his voice. “Yes, sweetheart.” He removed his handkerchief and gently dried tears from Summer’s eyes, his heart aching as he hugged both girls. “I promise I won’t ever choose any one you don’t like, okay?”
The girls nodded against his shoulder. He closed his eyes and rocked them both back and forth, just as he had when they were babies. The first time he’d held them in his arms, an overwhelming sense of protectiveness had hit him. He’d believed he and Renee could make it work, that he could spare his daughters from ever being hurt, but he hadn’t been able to protect them from the one person who was supposed to love them the most, their own mother. His head throbbed. He wanted to make his kids happy. And he was more determined than ever not to lead them on about Paige, to find someone else who would love the girls and him.
Still, as the girls fell asleep in his arms, despair settled over him, because Paige’s face was the only one that filled his dreams. And he knew he had to forget her.
Chapter Nine
Paige finished stitching the lacy bodice of Amelia’s wedding gown, rubbed her hand over her tired eyes and hung the dress over the back of the dining room door. She stepped back, admiring it, envisioning herself in the gown, with a handsome groom waiting at the end of the aisle for her. Zeke’s dark eyes automatically popped into her head, and she shook herself, mentally forcing the image from her mind. Time for marriage and family later.
Disgusted with herself, she readied for bed, dragging on a new pale blue nightshirt she’d bought at the boutique. She’d just curled up in her bed with a book when she heard a noise from downstairs. Probably Henrietta again, sleeping in her kitchen. Or maybe it was the vandals.
Slipping on matching bedroom shoes and a robe, she grabbed the portable phone and a can of hair spray for protection, tiptoed down the steps warily, her heart pounding. Stifling a gasp when she spotted a shadow, she squinted to make out the form, her breath catching in her throat. Then the shadow moved and footsteps padded across the carpet, the sound of whispering voices echoing through the tense silence. She quickly heaved a sigh of relief when she recognized two small bodies scampering through her den heading toward the stairs.
“Summer, August?”
The twins froze, their small faces silhouetted in the moonlight shimmering through the front window. Their eyes widened in fright, then they recognized her and ran into her arms, promptly bursting into tears. Paige cuddled them close while they sobbed against her.
“What’s wrong, girls?” Paige gently stroked their hair, her chest tightening as their small bodies heaved for air.
“We missed you,” August whimpered. “But Daddy said you was too busy for us…just like Mama is.”
“We won’t be trouble.” Tears streaked Summer’s red cheeks. “Promise. Don’t forget about us. We likes you.”
“Oh, girls, I like you, too,” Paige’s voice broke as her own eyes filled with tears. She blinked back the moisture, a dull ache pressing against her chest as she ushered the girls to the sofa. She hugged them close, wishing desperately she could make all their problems disappear. Maybe when their mother returned she’d decide she couldn’t leave them again and the twins would have their mom back. “Shh, shh, don’t cry now. It’s going to be okay,” she crooned softly. “I haven’t forgotten you, and I’m sure your mom hasn’t either.”
“She’s not coming like she promised,” Summer said in a tiny voice.
Paige stroked Summer’s arms, the desolate expression in the little girl’s eyes tearing at her. “Is that what your mother said?”
August nodded. “She told Daddy she won’t be here till our birthday.”
“But Daddy says he’s gonna do eberthing he can to make her stay when she does come.”
Paige’s heart squeezed. She couldn’t blame Zeke but still the realization hurt.
Summer rubbed her knuckles over her eyes. “Don’t you wants to see us anymore either, Paige?”
“Of course I do, you’re two of my favorite neighbors,” Paige answered softly.
“Daddy says you don’t wants to marry us.”
Paige swallowed, wondering what exactly Zeke had told the girls. Either the twins had a very fertile imagination or they had misconstrued something Zeke had said. “Your dad’s right, we aren’t getting married, but we’re friends. I love your visits.”
“Then how come Daddy says not to come over here?” August asked, starting to hiccup from her sobs.
Paige swallowed. “Well, it’s kind of complicated, sweetie. I am busy, but it doesn’t mean I don’t like you, ’cause I do, very much.” She sighed and hugged them. “You could always call me and see if it’s a good time to visit.”
“We’re busy, too,” August said, sniffling.
“Yeah, we goes to day care.”
“And to Grammy’s.”
“I know, honey. But you girls wanted a mommy and I guess your dad’s looking around for the best one, someone who doesn’t work and can stay
home and take care of you all the time.” Besides, your real mom is coming back and your dad’s going to try to convince her to stay. Then you can all be together again, just like you want.
She hugged them again, wishing things were different for all of them, reassuring them that she truly cared.
“We didn’t like Icky Vicky,” August added.
“Timmy’s a big fat meanie.”
“I gots mad,” August said.
“And I wanted to cry,” Summer admitted.
“Icky Vicky screamed when I gave her my frog.”
“Then Daddy gots rreeeeel mad.”
Paige smiled as bits and pieces of their conversation gelled. “Who’s Icky Vicky?”
“The girl that come over and brought yucky green ’sagna,” August said.
“She gots boy’s hair,” Summer added.
“Oh.” Vicky’s car must have been the strange vehicle she’d seen in the driveway yesterday. “You know, I have something that might make you feel better. You two stay right here.” She hurried to the kitchen and brought back two dolls, then squeezed between the girls on the sofa again, propping the folk dolls in her lap. “These were two of my favorite dolls when I was little.”
“You gots lots of pretty dolls, don’t you?” Summer asked.
“Yes,” Paige said with a small laugh. “My dad used to give them to me every Christmas and birthday. We started collecting them when I was about your age.” She swallowed against the lump in her throat. “Angel, the pretty one on the settee over there is my favorite. My dad brought her to me from Germany. He gave her to me right before he died.”
“Do you miss your daddy?” Summer asked.
Paige ran her fingers lovingly over the little girl’s cheek. “Of course I do. That’s why I keep my dolls. They remind me of all the good times we had.” She pressed her hand over her heart. “And I always keep him right here in my heart.”
“I can keep Mommy right here,” Summer said, pressing her own little fist on her chest.
