Renting to Own

by Linda Rettstatt

  She grabbed the wall phone. “Hello.”

  “Lily, it’s Vicki. I’m just checking to see if the party’s still on, and if you can keep the kids overnight after the party. If not, I need to get a sitter.”

  “The party’s on, but moved indoors. Amy and Nicky can stay over.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it. Jeff and I haven’t had any alone time since before Nicky was born. Are you sure a gang of five-year-olds and a six-month-old aren’t too much?”

  “It’ll be fine. Nicky’s a sweetheart. And only four of the girls are staying all night.”

  Vicki laughed. “You are a saint. I’ll see you in a few.”

  A saint, or completely insane?

  Chelsea donned the new tiara Lily had given her. She chattered incessantly while Lily moved the living room furniture to clear space for an indoor picnic. “Can we play make up?”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, honey. The other moms might not appreciate me sending their daughters home looking like…” The only word she could think of was hookers, but that wasn’t right. Saved by the doorbell.

  “I’ll get it.” Chelsea raced to the door and flung it open. “It’s Amy.”

  Amy pulled a small suitcase behind her. Vicki followed her daughter inside, her arms laden with a diaper bag, blanket, and six-month-old Nicky. “I owe you one. Nicky’s extra clothes are in Amy’s suitcase. You have my cell number, just in case. We’re going to dinner, then staying at the Sheraton overnight. I’ll get the playpen from the car.”

  Lily took the baby from her arms. “We’ll be fine, won’t we, Nicky?” She grinned when Vicki returned and set the folded playpen inside. “You and Jeff get reacquainted. Don’t rush back.”

  “Thanks.” Vicki hugged her daughter and kissed the baby’s cheek. “Bye, bye, Nicky. Amy, you be good and listen to Lily.”

  The baby watched, wide-eyed, as his mother closed the door behind her. Lily turned away, teasing his chubby cheek with her fingertip, distracting him. “Hey, Nicky, let’s go see what’s cooking in the kitchen. Chels, you and Amy take her things upstairs before the rest of your guests arrive. Okay?”

  The two girls tugged the small suitcase up the stairs, giggling the whole time. Lily settled the baby on her hip and went to the kitchen. A car pulled into the driveway and Helen got out of the passenger’s side. She had called Lily earlier in the week to say she would be bringing a friend along and wouldn’t be staying overnight. Lily watched as the driver stood on the other side of the car. He had to be over six feet, silver-gray hair and a mustache, distinguished looking. Helen waited with the open umbrella until he rounded the car, then they walked to the door together.

  “Anybody home?” Helen called out.

  “Hi. Come in.”

  The man moved in behind Helen.

  “Lily, this is John Benson. He’s a friend.”

  John put an arm across Helen’s shoulders. “We met in a book club. Never argue literature with an English teacher.”

  Helen flushed and looked at the baby. “Who’s this little guy?”

  “This is Nicky. I’m keeping him for the night so his parents can have a break. His sister is Chelsea’s friend, Amy. They’re upstairs. John, it’s nice to meet you. Please, come in.”

  Feet pounded on the stairs and Chelsea came screaming into the kitchen. “Auntie Helen.” At the sight of John, she stopped in her tracks. “Who’re you?”

  Helen hugged her and made introductions.

  John stooped to shake the child’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I see by the tiara, you must be—let me guess—Princess Ariel?”

  Lily watched her daughter’s face light up. Score one for John.

  “Mommy, can we make a tent in the living room?” Chelsea pleaded.

  “Sure. Give me a minute.”

  John cleared his throat. “I’m a bit of an expert tent-maker. I have six grandchildren. I’d be happy to help.”

  “You sure?” Lily looked at his neatly pressed shirt and perfectly creased slacks.

  “I’d enjoy it. Where are the tent-building materials?”

  “They’re in the hall closet. Chelsea can show you. Thanks so much.”

  “My pleasure.” He extended his hand to Chelsea. “Lead the way, Princess.”

  Lily waited until they crossed through the living room, then turned to Helen. “Oh, my God. He’s wonderful—and so handsome.”

  Helen’s face flushed. “He’s a nice man. And, yes, not hard to look at.”

  “I think you’ve been keeping secrets.”

  “We’re just good friends.”

  Lily smiled. “Yeah, that would explain the way he looks at you.”

  “You shush, or I’ll say that magical word—Rick. Tell me what I can do to help.”

  “Have a seat. You can entertain Nicky while I check on the mac and cheese.” She passed the baby to Helen. “It was Chelsea’s special request, along with hot dogs and cake.”

  The baby whimpered, then focused on Helen’s necklace. Helen bounced him on her knee. “Remember when Chelsea was this age? They grow up fast, don’t they?”

  Lily adjusted the oven temperature and sat down across from her friend. “They sure do. I can’t believe Chelsea’s five years old.”

  The doorbell rang, and Chelsea announced the arrival of two more little girls. Lily went to the door to talk with the parents. John had created an elaborate three-room tent by covering most of the furniture with the sheets and blankets Lily kept for just such a purpose. Within the next half-hour, the house vibrated with giggles and high-pitched voices.

  Rick arrived bearing a huge, brightly wrapped box. He was immediately pulled into the room to play the role of the king in their fairytale game.

  “Chels, let him at least get inside,” Lily called from the doorway.

  “Here, you’d better take this.” He passed the large box to her. “Careful, it’s fragile.” He turned to the waiting children. “M’ladies, the king has arrived. Where shalt he recline?”

  Chelsea furrowed her brow. “Huh?”

  “Where do you want me to sit?”

  Lily shook her head and laughed, settling the box in the corner before returning to the kitchen. “Well, Rick’s the center of attention in there. I’m going to feed Nicky and put him down for a nap, then I’ll get the hot dogs cooking.”

  Helen stood with the baby. “I can take care of him.”

  “Thanks. Everything’s on the counter, and his playpen is in the den. Hopefully, he’ll fall asleep for a while.” John walked to Helen’s side and put an arm across her shoulders while he rubbed a hand lovingly over the baby’s head. The casual intimacy between Helen and John sent a twinge of loneliness through Lily.

  A burst of laughter drew her attention to the living room. She moved to the doorway and looked inside. Rick sat in the recliner, a towel tied around his neck, one of the lampshades on his head, and using an umbrella as a scepter.

  He looked up at her. “Ah, a fair maiden from the far off land of Kitchonia. What bringest thou to my humble kingdom?”

  She walked into the room. “I’ve prepared a feast for your subjects, m’lord. I thinkst they may need to wash and ready themselves for dinner.”

  He raised his eyebrows and looked at the girls. “M’ladies, the festivities continue momentarily. Now go, washeth thy hands-eth.”

  The girls stood and raced behind Chelsea to the powder room.

  Lily laughed. “Hands-eth? Let me guess. You never read Shakespeare.”

  He arched one brow. “Dost thou mock the king?”

  “Why, no, m’lord. Thou might hath me beheaded-eth. Are you going to wear my lampshade through dinner?”

  “Why? Jealous? I’m sure we can find you something…ah, perfect.” He grabbed the newspaper, rolled it into a cone shape and tucked a corner under to hold it in place. He set the paper hat onto her head. “There. All you need is a scarf to wrap around it. You look like a damsel, not so distressed.”

  His hand lingered on her shou
lder. She looked up at him and fell into his smile. His face changed, and his fingers tightened on her shoulders, his head lowering toward her.

  “Mommy, we’re all washed up.” Chelsea skipped into the room, followed by her entourage.

  Lily stepped back, her paper hat toppling from her head. She took in a quick breath and turned away from Rick, hoping the warmth that stirred in her didn’t show. “Okay, everyone find a seat. I’ll bring in your plates and get your drinks.”

  “I’ll help.” Rick replaced the shade on the lamp and removed the towel from around his shoulders.

  The kitchen seemed to shrink in size with his presence as she carefully moved around him, trying not to let their bodies touch. He was going to kiss me. And I was going to let him. A quiver started at her center and spread to all the wrong—or right—places.

  Lily prepared plates of hot dogs and mac and cheese and Rick delivered them. She filled glasses with soda and carried them on a tray to where the girls sat, circled under their tent. “We’ll be in the kitchen. Call if you girls need anything.”

  Rick filled two plates and set them on the table. “You having soda, or something stronger?”

  She dropped into one of the chairs. “Soda. Thanks.” She watched as he made himself at home, fetching ice from the freezer and filling two glasses with dark amber cola.

  Helen and John entered the kitchen. “The baby is fed and sleeping contentedly,” Helen announced.

  “Thank you. Sit down, I’ll get you some food.” Lily rose from her seat.

  “You stay right there and eat. We’ll help ourselves.” Helen picked up two plates, handing one to John.

  Just as Lily forked the last bite of mac and cheese into her mouth, a wail emanated from the den. “Uh-oh. Somebody’s awake.”

  “Mommy, are we going to have cake now?” Chelsea stood in the doorway with her tiara tilted precariously to one side.

  “As soon as I take care of Nicky.” She went to the den, changed the baby’s wet diaper and picked him up. He was inconsolable, tears streaming down his reddened face. Lily bounced him in her arms, but to no avail. She carried the wailing infant through the living room and into the kitchen.

  “What did you do to him?” Rick asked.

  “I didn’t do anything to him. I think he just woke up and realized he’s in a strange house without his mother.”

  “Let me try.” Rick held out his hands.

  Lily hesitated for a second, then handed over the baby. Rick held him up and smiled. “Hey, little man. What’s the fuss?”

  The baby hiccupped, sniffled and grinned at Rick.

  Lily shook her head. “I don’t believe it.” Is there anything more attractive than a man who can comfort a crying baby?

  “It’s a guy thing. He’ll be fine now. Worked with my nephews every time.”

  She set the cake on the table and lit five candles. “Everyone ready to sing?” She led the procession into the living room, where the voices of the children joined hers in singing Happy Birthday.

  Chelsea straightened her tiara and took in a deep breath before blowing out the candles. “I made a wish, but I can’t say it, ’cause then it won’t come true. But you and Mommy were part of it.” She grinned at Lily and Rick.

  “We were? Well, then I really hope you get your wish.” Rick dropped into the recliner, the now-quiet baby in his lap.

  After cake and ice cream, Lily presented Chelsea with the stack of gifts in various shapes and sizes. The last gift to open was the large box Rick had brought. The child’s eyes widened, and she squealed with delight when she tore away the paper to reveal a dollhouse with a full array of furnishings. “Look, Mommy. It’s beautiful.”

  “I see.” Lily glanced at Rick. “How’d you know she wanted one of those?”

  He grinned. “A little bird told me.”

  “It wasn’t a bird. It was me.” Chelsea giggled, opened the box and stepped back while John and Helen removed the pink and purple house.

  Chelsea crossed the room and put her arms around Rick’s neck. “Thank you, Rick.” She pressed a kissed to his cheek.

  “You’re welcome, Princess. I’m glad you like it.” His eyes shone. Lily made a mental snapshot of Rick, a baby in his lap, and Chelsea’s arms around his neck. And him looking perfectly content. Her heart gave a little stutter.

  *

  Helen carried plates to the kitchen and returned to announce that she and John needed to leave. “It was a wonderful party, Lily. Thank you.”

  “Thanks for coming. And, John, it was nice to meet you. I hope I’ll see you again.”

  He smiled, placing a hand on Helen’s shoulder. “I hope so, too.”

  After they left, parents arrived to pick up three of the girls who weren’t staying over. Rick carried the playpen up the stairs and set it up in Lily’s room, where Nicky would sleep for the night. He stood at her side while she changed the baby and dressed him in a sleeper. Rick’s nearness caused her to fumble with the snaps. She settled Nicky in the playpen and turned on the monitor.

  “He’s a cute little guy,” Rick said.

  “He is cute, and exhausting. I’ve forgotten how much work an infant can be.” She stopped at Chelsea’s room, where the five girls were busily making up their beds on the floor. Each had brought her own pillow. Two had sleeping bags; the others spread their blankets on the quilts Lily had provided. “You girls be quiet. Don’t wake up the baby. Okay?”

  “Okay. G’night, Mommy. G’night, Rick.”

  Lily knelt and wrapped Chelsea in a hug. “Goodnight, baby. Happy birthday.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Goodnight, Princess.” Rick bowed. “M’ladies, sleep well.” Giggles followed them from the room.

  “I think you have a fan club,” Lily said to Rick as they descended the stairs.

  “It’s my babe magnet qualities coming through. And I don’t even own a plane.”

  She chuckled, then wondered about the edge in his voice when he added the crack about a plane. Was he jealous?

  “I’ll help with cleanup.” Rick gathered plates and cups from the living room.

  “You don’t have to. I can manage.”

  “Lily, you look like you’re ready to drop. Let me help.” He pulled the bag from the trashcan and filled it with crumpled gift wrap while Lily loaded the dishwasher.

  With the kitchen in order, they moved to the living room, folding sheets and blankets—remnants of the tent. Their fingers touched and Lily felt a spark. Probably just static. She carried the stack of bedding to the closet and dropped it onto the floor. “Thanks, Rick, for everything.”

  “You’re welcome. I enjoyed myself.”

  She laughed. “Of course you did. You had eight little girls adoring you.”

  “What can I say? I’m the king.” He removed his car keys from his pocket. “I guess I should be going.”

  “It is getting late.”

  He headed to the door. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

  “Bright and early.” She followed him onto the front porch.

  He descended the top step, stopped and turned around. He strode back to her and, before she realized what was happening, kissed her. When he pulled away, his face held the same look of surprise Lily felt. She stood, riveted to the spot. He tilted his head and his mouth met hers again, his body pressing her against the doorframe. His fingers caressed the back of her neck, and she quivered.

  His eyes searched hers as he whispered, “I’ve wanted to do that for a while now.” He stepped back and dragged fingers through his hair. “That was so way out of line. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” She struggled to regain her breath.

  “No, I’d better go.”

  “Uh-huh. Just…maybe once more.” She rose on tiptoe to meet him, cutting off his speech. Her lips parted and their tongues danced. She melted against him.

  “What are you doing?” Chelsea’s small voice asked.

  Lily jumped and pushed Rick away. “Huh? I was just saying goodnig
ht to Rick.”

  “Yeah. I kissed your mommy goodnight, just like you kissed me goodnight earlier.” Rick grinned.

  “I didn’t kiss you like that on the lips.”

  Lily slid away from Rick, rubbing her fingers over her lips. “Do you need something, Chels?”

  “Robin’s crying. She wants to go home.”

  “Okay, I’ll be right there. You go back inside.” She turned to face Rick. “I better go.”

  “Yeah. So, I’ll see you Monday.” He took a step toward her, then stopped and turned, ambling down the steps and to his car.

  Lily watched him pull the car from the drive. She traced a finger over lips that involuntarily stretched into a smile, a smile that soon faded. Monday’s going to be awkward.

  Chapter Eighteen

  One by one, Chelsea’s friends left with their parents the next afternoon. Vicki arrived to pick up Amy and Nicky. Jeff thanked Lily and took the playpen to the car.

  “Thanks, Lily. I owe you.” Vicki smiled. “I mean really owe you one.”

  “Nice get-away, huh?”

  Vicki glanced at the two little girls who listened attentively. “We’ll talk—later. How was Nicky?”

  “He woke from his nap to realize I wasn’t his mother. Fortunately, Rick was here and, surprisingly, has a way with kids. Nicky took to him.”

  “Oh, I know. Nicky’s a man’s man. He can fuss and drive me nuts all day. Jeff comes home and picks him up and, voila, he’s completely content. Makes me sound like a lunatic for complaining.” She jostled the baby in her arms. “Amy, get your bag. I’ll talk to you later, Lily. Thanks again.”

  Lily closed the door and called to Chelsea. “I’m going downstairs to start laundry. Don’t go outside without letting me know.”

  “Oka-ay. I’m going to play with my dollhouse. Can we call Rick and ask him to come over and play?”

  Play? A current snaked down her spine at the thought. “No, I don’t think so.”