by Tara Mills
She flashed her still perfect little smile at him, her dimples sinking deep.
Sleepovers were going to be changing after this. Maybe he was a little too reluctant to host them here and a little too enthusiastic when Missy wanted to spend the night elsewhere. What else had he screwed up?
“Dad, what’s lingerie?”
Chad scrambled for the right answer. “Underwear,” he said finally.
“Oh.” She slipped off of her stool, clearly disappointed. “I thought it might be something special.”
“Nope. Just plain, old-fashioned underwear.”
“Boring.”
“Yeah.”
She left him to clean the kitchen and sweat over everything that seemed to be snowballing all at once. He needed to spend more quality time with his kids, feed them more than sandwiches for every meal just because they liked it and he didn’t feel like battling over the menu.
Slowly, a smile crept across his face. Of course, it was so simple, so obvious. Things were about to change, for all of them if he had a say in the matter.
Chapter 5
Relaxing under the pavilion at the park with the lake as a backdrop Joy finished the last bite of fruit salad and pressed the lid down on the empty plastic container. She released a contented sigh. “That was really good.”
Piper smiled. “Thanks. Just wait, summer’s just around the corner and we’re going to have a lot more fresh fruits available.”
“I love this time of year.”
“Berries.”
“Mmm, berries,” Joy agreed.
Still blissed out from their afternoon on the lake Piper tipped her head back, closed her eyes, and squirted a stream of bottled water directly into her mouth. “You know what sucks about living in an apartment?”
“Hmm?”
“No pantry,” said Piper.
“I’m in a townhouse and I don’t have a pantry either.”
“Short sighted.”
“No kidding.”
They mulled over their loss silently for a moment before Joy spoke up.
“I’d love a root cellar.”
“A root cellar? I could see that. Do you can?”
“No, but my grandma did. Of course she had a garden. She had fresh herbs, vegetables, and fruits most of the year and what she couldn’t serve fresh came out later in a jar.”
“Good?”
“Awesome.”
“My mom was the queen of the can opener. What she didn’t microwave she boiled.”
“So where’d you come from?”
“My friends’ moms. I practically begged them to invite me to spend the night — I was shameless — just so I could eat real home cooking. Gretchen’s mom was my favorite. She was so down to earth, a real hippie type. She let me hang around in her kitchen and bombard her with questions. I really appreciated that she never made me feel stupid but I guess it was common knowledge by then that my mom wasn’t exactly the domestic type. Anyway, I showed an interest and she sort of nurtured me. Mrs. Copeland was the first person I told when I decided to enroll in culinary school.”
“And that’s where you met Mick.”
“And we were having such a nice time here.”
“He’s part of that past.”
“He is,” Piper acknowledged grudgingly.
They both fell into silence. After a couple of minutes Joy suddenly slapped the picnic table, making Piper jump.
“Hey, before I forget I wanted to ask, how about doubling this weekend? A friend of Dom’s is coming to town. Might be fun.”
Piper grimaced. “Not interested.”
Joy rolled her eyes. “Come on. Your bout of celibacy has to be growing old by now.”
Piper laughed. “Sure, but it’s not stale enough to tempt me into a blind date.”
“Consider it a chance to get out and do something — enjoy some fresh company for a change.”
“Fresh? Did I just hear you right? What is he, the man with a million hands?”
Joy laughed. “Cut it out. I meant that he’s a really nice guy. Who knows, you might just hit it off.”
Piper sighed. “I’m sure he’s great but I just don’t care right now. I’m enjoying my independence, my freedom.”
“That’s why he’d be perfect for you. He lives six hours away so you only have to get together occasionally, if you know what I mean.”
Piper shuddered. “What a revolting idea. Nope, I’m simply not interested in a man for any reason right now but I’ll let you know if and when that changes, okay?”
When Joy eyed her skeptically Piper went on. “Hear me out. My apartment is clean — all the time. I only have to do laundry for one. I love, absolutely love that the toilet isn’t foul — ever. I can cook whatever I like without having to consult with anyone else. Plus, I have the entire bed to myself and I’m using every glorious inch of it!”
“That doesn’t depress you?”
“No way. For the first time in two years I have a savings account that’s growing, not shrinking. It’s great to finally get ahead financially. I don’t want another relationship where I’m the only grownup, making sure the bills are paid on time and floating him until payday. It’s not nice grinding your teeth down to nothing when you have to explain for the millionth time where the toilet paper is and how to replace it.”
“I’m not asking you to move in with the guy and buy towels together. Besides, not every guy is Mick.”
“I know that but people have a way of falling into patterns and I don’t plan on being one of them. Mick exhausted me. I’m drained, and I have nothing else to give right now. I need some selfish time to recover. I simply can’t worry about anyone else for a while. That’s all.”
“That’s screwed up.”
“Come on. Try to understand. Mick was a mistake — granted. I suppose we all need one to shake us up, screw with our perceptions a little, but in the end, those bad boys make lousy partners. I did learn something important from him, though. If a guy can make your blood sizzle with a single smile, you’d better run, fast, in the opposite direction. No way are you going to make rational decisions when your hormones are popping like firecrackers. I’m not letting Mick launch me into a bad habit. Nope. When I’m finally ready to commit to someone else, I’ll be smart about it. No more hormonal surges and brain-numbing lust for me.”
“So you guard yourself against all possibilities when they arise. That doesn’t sound smart, that sounds scared. You sound like you don’t trust yourself to recognize distinctions.”
“You think it’s easy to gauge? Tell me, how soon can I ask a guy whether he willingly does his own laundry, cooks, cleans up after himself, or would contribute to the household finances if we got together — first date? I’d like to consider that the elimination round but one word on what really matters will send any sane guy screaming for the hills.”
She took another squirt. “How about this, can he hold down a steady job? Mick couldn’t do that and he’s ten times the chef I am. I hated — I can’t stress hated enough here so I’ll say it again — hated that he’s so talented and at the same time unwilling to use those talents if it even threatened to interfere with his play. I can’t afford another man in my life like that.”
“So tell me what you’re looking for.”
Piper frowned, her mind racing to describe the impossible dream just to throw Joy off her case. “First of all, I remind you that I’m not looking. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“But, if I had to describe my perfect man I’d say that he’s gainfully employed, considerate, and mature.” She waved her finger at her friend. “But here’s where it gets tricky. He has to be stable and interesting at the same time. I’d like him to be informed and exciting, naughty and nice, faithful. He’d respect my opinions e
ven when we disagree and respect me as his equal partner and not a subordinate in my own home. I won’t be my mother. She couldn’t answer a simple question without conferring with my dad or passing the decision-making off to him entirely. It really used to piss me off.”
“You’re kidding right?”
Piper took a deep breath and shook her head sadly. “I wish. I never understood it. She liked the master of the house bit. When I was a teenager I used to try pushing her to be her own person but it never helped. All it did was strain our relationship and we didn’t come to terms with who we both are until after I moved out on my own.”
“Well, keep me posted anyway.” Joy gave her a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure I can rake someone up for you if you’re willing.”
“When I’m ready, I’ll let you know.”
Piper capped her water, confident that this ideal man didn’t exist and if he did, and that was a seriously gargantuan if, she wasn’t ready for him yet.
Chapter 6
Can anything else possibly go wrong tonight?
Piper raced through the store with yet another jar of applesauce tucked under her arm.
“Hi, yes, nice to see you,” she said, acknowledging a frequent class attendee coming down the canned goods aisle.
Piper breezed by and checked her watch. Time to hustle.
“Stupid slippery glass jar,” she muttered, visualizing its slow motion roll then the horrifying aaah moment just before it went plunging over the edge of the counter and shattered on the floor. She had to admit, the spray of pulverized apple exceeded even her expectations. It hit everything, the bottoms of chairs, the cabinets, and a good eight feet of floor not to mention the front of her legs and shoes. The impressive starburst pattern was really quite pretty actually but of course even the hurried mop up she did put her way behind schedule. She would have to do it properly after class. In the meantime she didn’t relish finding sticky spots with her shoes all night.
Naturally, considering the way the evening started, it figured she’d be the last to arrive on the first night of their kid-friendly series. Being late in general irked her but knowing she had families coming in tonight, well, that really bothered her. Piper pushed through the door with a smile pasted on her face and walked straight up the middle of the room to the front counter. She could feel the eyes of the entire class following her.
One sticky spot identified. Damn it!
She set the applesauce down and turned her smile up another degree.
“Look at all the young faces. This is great! I’m sorry I wasn’t here to greet you personally but I had a little accident.” She patted the top of the jar. “But no harm done and I can’t wait to get started. Show of hands, how many of you have cooked before?”
Piper laughed at all the hands suddenly in the air. “Sorry, I was talking to the kids. Moms and dads you can sit this one out.” All the hands went down but the laughter raised the volume in the room considerably. “Let’s try again, okay? Any kids here tonight with cooking experience?”
Only a few little hands went up this time.
Piper smiled. “That’s awesome. You’re going to feel right at home but if you’re new to cooking, no worries, you’re in for a real treat. Tonight we’re going to make muffins and you’re going to see just how easy cooking can be. But here’s the most important rule, you should never cook without an adult around, okay?”
Catching movement out of the corner of her eye, Piper turned and saw that Mr. Persistent was back and shifting on his stool to see around the woman in front of him. And that was it. Their eyes locked and every thought in her head fled on a coffee break without a backwards shrug. Wonderful.
Then he abruptly broke the connection, releasing Piper because, because there was a small girl tugging on his sleeve? No way. Yes, apparently way. The girl cupped her mouth and whispered in his ear. He nodded back and was right in the middle of his reply when they both vanished, blocked out by the woman in front of them and her spectacular perm.
Piper gave herself a mental head slap. How did she manage to miss Mr. Marvelous on her way in? Wait a second, hold it. What was she doing? Duh! Class, teaching, focus.
The delay cost her. Half a heartbeat later he leaned back into the aisle, located Piper, and reclaimed her attention. Caught like a fish on his hook, she tried to fight herself free without success. Not until he gave her a slow intimate smile did she manage it, the annoyance that smile provoked finally snapping his line.
Wrenching her eyes away, Piper skidded over the other heretofore unnoticed child at that table. Appalled by her lousy powers of observation her face warmed another five degrees. She was out of control. Seriously out of control here. It was intolerable. She wasn’t going to put up with this.
So what if he brought a pint-sized entourage? That didn’t change the fact that she had a job to do. Still, she couldn’t tamp down her resentment. The jerk was toast, burnt toast! She should have known things would crap out tonight as soon as she broke that jar of applesauce. Talk about your bad omens.
She needed to get a grip, take back the reins and run the guy down. Mmm, not a bad fantasy actually. She wasn’t going to lose this power struggle. No way. Piper regulated her breathing and took a second to stretch her arms towards the floor, tightening her muscles and extending her fingers until even the skin burned. Only then did she trust herself to speak.
With a stiff smile for her staring class Piper returned to the job at hand. “Normally I’d simply demonstrate for you but tonight we’re going to do something different. You’ll be working in teams and everyone will have a chance to participate. Now I’d like someone from each station to come up and get the supplies you’ll need.”
A murmur of voices filled the room and then each group dispatched someone to the counter to collect their boxes of ingredients.
She tried to ignore her personal pest when he stood to come forward but a nasty impulse took over when he got up there and she and couldn’t help sneering, “What’d you do now, rent a couple of kids for the night?”
He turned with an amused smirk. “No, they’re mine.”
Piper’s eyebrows scrambled up her forehead. Why did that news throw her? She stared after him as he walked back to his children. Then she did yet another unthinkable thing. She checked out his ass. Great idea, why not just add an erratic heart rate to go with everything else tonight? The last thing she wanted was some castoff whose wife finally told him, “Thanks but no thanks,” when she came to her senses.
It was so much easier, far more comfortable, for Piper to nurture the suspicion that he hauled his kids here just to score points with her. He was using them to humanize himself. Well, fat chance! All it did was make her loathe him even more. She refused to consider for a second that his was just one of the many parent/child combinations filling her classroom tonight. As far as Piper was concerned, the man had no scruples. The scumbag was going down!
But, she reminded herself, she was a professional. She was above it. She’d take the high road and let him try to make peace with his polluted conscience. Piper cleared him from her mind and moved on.
“In case you’re wondering,” she said with a bright smile, “this is a liquid measuring cup and these here are for dry measuring. Do not confuse the two.”
Undaunted by the half-hearted chuckles she pressed on. “Now, with muffins, it’s very important not to over-mix your batter. You’ll have some lumps but don’t worry, that’s perfectly normal.”
She ladled the batter into the paper cups and looked out at the attentive faces.
“Now I need someone to help me set the timer. Anyone?”
She pointed to a young girl before her furious hand waving caused an injury. “How about you?”
The girl joined her at the front counter.
“Have you ever set an oven timer before?” Piper asked her.
“It’s easy. Here, we’ll show everyone together. First, look at the recipe. How long does it say we need to bake these?” To help the child out Piper underscored the type with her fingernail.
The little girl hooked her hair behind her ear and leaned forward to see. “Eighteen to twenty minutes,” she read carefully.
“Perfect!” Piper said and slid her tray into the smaller of the ovens and closed the door.
They set the timer together and the girl skipped back to her parents with an excited smile.
One after another, each group sent their muffins forward, little toothpick flags distinguishing them from the rest, and they were placed into the other two ovens. While they baked, Piper passed around a platter of already prepared banana chocolate chip muffins for everyone to sample.
“There’s a sheet of muffin recipes which includes the applesauce ones we just made and I encourage you to take a copy home with you.”
The timer went off and Piper pulled all the tins from the oven. “As these cool, you can come up and collect your own.”
One by one, adults came forward to drop off their supply boxes and pick up their muffins while Piper continued to discuss using other fruits in recipes, from bananas to apples, raisins, even craisins.
“Don’t get locked into blueberries alone,” she warned. “Muffins are a healthy alternative to cookies and we have more control over fat and sugar when we make snacks ourselves.”
Mr. Mom came for his plate of muffins and carried them back to his table.
Piper hated how often her eyes strayed his way but she couldn’t seem to stop it, especially now that her frosty attitude was suffering some serious cracks just seeing the warm interplay going on in their corner. She hardened her heart but it wasn’t even five minutes later that a major fault line opened up when his spontaneous laughter tore her attention away from the woman speaking to her and Piper turned just in time to see the little girl stuffing a muffin into his mouth. The kid was feeding him for god’s sake!
