Adding Up to Family

by Marie Ferrarella

  If Steve was being honest, he’d admit he barely tasted the chicken. Right now he was experiencing a delayed reaction to the emotional roller coaster he’d been riding and had just now finally managed to get off of.

  Relieved and thrilled that Stevi seemed to be not just all right, but better than all right, he found himself going through his own modified version of an anxiety attack. When he thought of how things might have turned out, he felt really ill. He wasn’t thinking of the tantrum that Stevi had thrown early this morning. Instead, he was thinking about the fact that when he’d called, he hadn’t been able to reach anyone.

  His blood had run cold.

  It reminded him too much of that evening when he hadn’t been able to reach Cindy. He hadn’t been worried then because it hadn’t occurred to him that there was anything to be worried about. It wasn’t until a little while later, when he’d been called into his supervisor’s office and saw the policeman standing there, that he’d thought something was wrong.

  However, he still hadn’t thought it would be the kind of “wrong” that would throw his entire life into a tailspin and irreparably change it forever. The only thing he had to hang on to at the time was that Stevi had been home with a neighbor who’d offered to babysit, while Cindy had made her run to the store and walked in on a robbery in progress.

  It had taken him months to come to terms with what had happened to his wife. There were times, even now, that he wasn’t entirely sure he could move past it.

  “Dad?” Stevi said, looking at him with consternation.

  Steve blinked, trying to return to his present surroundings. He realized that his daughter was waiting for him to answer her question, but he wasn’t really sure what the question had been.

  Sensing he’d zoned out, Becky came to his rescue with a hint. “Your daughter’s a fast learner, Mr. Holder. She just watched me for a few minutes and then made most of the chicken Parmesan by herself.”

  Things fell into place. He glanced at her with gratitude, then turned toward Stevi. “It’s probably the best chicken Parmesan I’ve ever had,” he told his daughter with enthusiasm.

  Stevi gave him an impatient look, as if she saw right through him. “You don’t have to go overboard, you know.”

  “No, I mean it,” Steve insisted, this time with even more feeling. “This meal is one of the best I’ve ever had.”

  This time, Stevi clearly decided to believe him. Her suspicions appeared to dissolve and she grinned, obviously taking his compliment to heart.

  “Really?”

  “Really,” he responded.

  “Well, Becky did help. She showed me what to do,” the girl said, apparently feeling it was only fair that she share the credit with the woman.

  “Becky?” her father questioned. “You mean Ms. Reynolds, don’t you?”

  Again Becky came to the rescue, this time on Stevi’s side. “It’s all right if she calls me Becky,” she told him. “It feels more comfortable that way.”

  He was going to protest that he didn’t feel calling the housekeeper by her first name showed the proper respect for her, but he had a feeling he was outnumbered. Besides, right now Stevi was behaving like her old self. He was extremely grateful for that and would have been willing to put up with pretty much anything to have that happen.

  “Well, if you don’t have any objections,” Steve finally allowed, addressing Becky, “I guess that I don’t, either.”

  Pleased, Becky smiled at Stevi and then at the girl’s father. “Good. Then I guess that matter’s all settled.”

  “Speaking of settled,” Steve said, pushing his empty plate away, “now that dinner’s over, I’d better get started on that report I brought home with me.”

  “Work? Really? You’re going to work now?” Stevi asked, appearing totally crestfallen.

  The look of disappointment on his daughter’s face stopped him in his tracks. He knew that he really needed to get to his report. It was due first thing in the morning. But he couldn’t just ignore the look in Stevi’s eyes. Not when she was finally coming around.

  So rather than just leaving the room, he said, “Well, yes, I was going to. Why?” he asked, even though he knew he should just take advantage of the momentary pause and make a run for it while he could. Instead, he heard himself asking his daughter, “Did you have something else in mind?”

  “It’s Tuesday,” Stevi said, as if that was supposed to explain everything. When it obviously didn’t, she sighed dramatically. “There’s that show on at eight o’clock, remember? The one with the sharp detective and his daughter...”

  “Slater and Daughter,” Steve said, supplying the title.

  It was a program Stevi wanted to watch because she said it reminded her of the two of them. It had been on for three seasons now, and until recently they had never missed an episode. They’d even watched reruns as if they were brand-new. The “new” Stevi had pretended to lose interest in the show the last couple of months, acting as if she was too old for it.

  Steve couldn’t pass up watching the show with her tonight, especially since it was only an hour episode and her bedtime came right after that.

  “I almost forgot about that,” he confessed. “Let’s go watch it.”

  He was rewarded with a huge, almost blinding smile. For however long it lasted, his girl was back and he’d be a fool not to take advantage of that because of work.

  Stevi suddenly turned toward Becky as they were going to the family room. “You want to come watch it with us, Becky?”

  “I’d love to,” she answered, then glanced at Steve. “But won’t I be intruding? Isn’t this your family time?”

  Stevi dismissed the protest. “That’s okay. It’s a good show. You’ll like it.”

  Becky looked toward Steve again to gauge his take on it, but he seemed more than willing to go along with anything his daughter wanted. That was good enough for her.

  “I’ll be right there,” she promised. “I just want to put the dishes in the sink.”

  “The sink?” Stevi repeated. Her small brow furrowed as she tried to understand why the housekeeper would want to do something so backward, in her opinion, when she didn’t have to. “Don’t you like using the dishwasher?”

  Becky’s explanation was very simple. “I always find it faster and neater to just take care of the dishes as I use them,” she told the girl, swiftly rinsing the plates before stacking them in the sink. “And I like the feel of hot soapsuds,” she confessed.

  After wiping her hands on a towel, she hung it back up on a hook and then happily proclaimed, “Okay, I’m ready.”

  “Great!” Taking the lead, Stevi headed into the living room.

  “You sure I’m not intruding?” Becky asked Steve quietly as she crossed the threshold.

  “Intruding?” he repeated incredulously. As far as he was concerned, this woman was officially his new hero. “I’ve got a feeling that if it wasn’t for you, none of this would be happening.”

  She made no comment on that. Instead, she focused on something else. “How long is that report you’re supposed to be doing?” she asked as they walked into the family room.

  “I’ll be pulling an all-nighter after Stevi goes to bed.” And then he smiled, glancing toward his daughter. “But it’s well worth it.”

  Becky had to admit that Steve impressed her. Faced with a report, especially one that sounded this important, a great many other fathers would have begged off, promising to “make it up” to their daughter at some other time.

  Yet here he was, about to watch a TV program because his daughter had asked him to. He was in a class by himself.

  “You’re a good dad,” she told him, before crossing the room to the sofa. She sat on one side of Stevi while Steve settled in on the other. Becky had to admit that this all felt exceptionally family-like.

  She secretly smiled to her
self. Her mother would have taken one look at this and been thrilled to death—of course, it would have been because she’d misread the entire scenario.

  It occurred to Becky that she was going to have to tell her mom about this new position she’d taken... But not yet. The minute she said anything, she would have to start defending her decision, explaining to her mother why she wanted to do this.

  She honestly felt she was doing far more good here, helping Steve understand his daughter and find a way to reconnect with her, than she could have done if she’d remained in the engineering company where she’d worked for three years.

  She could almost hear her mother’s voice saying that she needed to stop focusing on other families and focus on starting one of her own.

  Her mom, she knew, thought that these things just magically happened. All you had to do was want it to be so and it was. Her mother, bless her, didn’t have a clue what it was like out there now. She hadn’t been in the dating pool since...well, since forever. Back then, when her mother had been dating, things were a great deal different, and far less complicated.

  You thought you’d found the right man, Mom, and he left, she thought. Her mother never said a word against him, never even told Becky how she’d felt about being walked out on like that. And the amazing thing was, her mother still believed it was possible for Becky to “find the right man.”

  Still, all things considered, if this mythical “right man” came along, she wouldn’t resist. But until that day happened, she was very happy doing what she was doing.

  Especially now, she thought, glancing toward the father and daughter duo.

  “Do you like it?” Stevi suddenly asked, turning toward her as a battery of commercials came on.

  “Yes, I do,” Becky answered honestly.

  “What do you like most?” Stevi asked, happy that she agreed.

  Becky thought for a moment. “I like the fact that they’re both smart. They could have made one of them smart and the other just sweet and simple, but they didn’t.”

  “I like that, too,” Stevi piped up, pleased as well as enthusiastic. Turning toward her father, she asked, “You do, too, don’t you, Dad?”

  “Actually, I do. But then, I’m prejudiced,” he confided, looking at her with affection. “I’ve got a smart daughter.”

  Stevi rolled her eyes. “Oh, Dad.” She looked toward Becky. “He says silly things like that a lot,” she confided, embarrassed, and then suddenly came to attention. “Shh! It’s starting again,” she declared happily, waving both adults into silence.

  * * *

  When the show was over—they watched the coming attractions, as well as the credits rolling by—Steve finally rose to his feet.

  “Time for bed, Stephanie,” he told her, congratulating himself for remembering at the last moment to use the name his daughter claimed to prefer. “I’ve really got to get to that report.”

  “’Kay. See you in the morning,” Stevi said. Leaving the family room, she saw that Becky was following, and she frowned. “You don’t have to come with me, you know,” she told the housekeeper. “I get ready for bed on my own.”

  “I had a feeling that you did,” Becky replied. “I just wanted to tell you good-night.”

  Stevi paused, looking at her thoughtfully, and then offered, “You can come with me if you want. That way you can tell me what parts of Slater and Daughter you liked best.”

  “That would be hard to choose,” Becky told her as she followed her to her room.

  She’d obviously given the right answer because Stevi’s eyes gleamed.

  “You, too?” the girl cried. “I feel that way, too. But I did like the way, after they solved the case, that you got to see them playing laser tag. It looked like fun.”

  “Have you and your dad ever played that?” Becky asked.

  As Stevi cast off her jeans and her T-shirt, Becky automatically picked the clothing up and folded it without even looking.

  “No,” Stevi answered. “We talked about doing it a couple of times, but he got really busy at work, so we haven’t.”

  Becky nodded. “Maybe you could bring it up to him, tell him how much you’d like to try that sometime,” she suggested.

  For just a moment, the pseudo sophisticate vanished and the little girl returned in her place. “You really think I could?”

  “Stephanie, I think your dad would give you the moon and stars if he could, so yes, I think that getting him to play laser tag with you isn’t all that hard to imagine. You just have to be flexible about when,” she advised the girl. “Your dad does seem like he’s under an awful lot of pressure.”

  Finished changing into her pajamas, Stevi walked into the small bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face before getting into bed.

  “Oh, he is. They’d probably work him to death if they could.” She paused to look over her shoulder at Becky. “Sometimes I don’t think that Dad has any time for me at all.”

  Becky smiled. “Funny, I think he thinks the same way about you.” She didn’t want to jeopardize things by sounding judgmental, so she softened her remark by saying, “But then, I’ve only been here for a day. Maybe I’m wrong.”

  She could see that she’d caught the girl’s attention. “You really think that my dad feels that way?”

  Becky gave her a sincere, sympathetic look. “Only one way to find out.”

  Stevi’s eyes lit up as she regarded her new ally. “You could ask him.”

  Becky felt that it was way too early in the game for her to butt in and presume to give advice to Stevi’s father.

  “I wasn’t thinking of my asking your father about that,” she told the girl. “If you ask him, I know he’s not going to say no.”

  Doubt and hope mingled on Stevi’s face. “You think?”

  “I guarantee it.” Seeing that the girl was getting into bed, Becky took a step closer to the doorway, ready to slip out. She paused for a moment next to the light switch. “You want me to leave the light on?”

  “How did you know?” Stevi cried, surprised. “Did Dad say something?”

  “Not a word,” Becky assured her. “But when I was your age, I had trouble going to sleep unless I left one light on. Usually the lamp by my bed.”

  “Really?” Stevi looked at her wide-eyed. It was hard to miss the pleasure in the girl’s eyes. “Did you feel like you were behaving like a baby?”

  “Nope,” Becky replied.

  “And your parents said it was okay?” Stevi asked uncertainly.

  “My mother was very understanding about it,” she stated, adding, “I was lucky.”

  Stevi was impressed—and full of questions. “How long did that last? You keeping the light on, I mean.”

  “For a few years,” Becky answered. “But you know, sometimes I still leave the light on when I’m a little nervous.”

  “You do?” Stevi asked, surprised.

  “Yes. And there are a lot of worse habits to have. Leaving the light on never hurt anybody,” she added with a wink. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Becky,” Stevi called after her.

  She turned around. “Yes, honey?”

  “Thanks,” the little girl told her.

  “Don’t mention it,” Becky responded.

  She left her smiling.

  Chapter Eight

  Becky was going to go straight to her new room. She hadn’t been able to put anything away yet and she hated being disorganized. However, she felt that she needed to look in on Stevi’s father first.

  Doubling back, she peered into the room that Steve had turned into his home office.

  He was sitting at his desk and seemed so intent on what he was doing, she nearly retreated. But thinking better of it, she knocked softly on the doorjamb. When he raised his head, she felt as if she’d caught him in the middle of a thought.


  “Sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to say good-night—and to tell you that I think you did a really nice thing tonight.”

  Steve seemed bewildered. “What did I do?”

  “You made time for your daughter even though you brought home all this work to do,” she said, waving a hand at the stacks of papers that were spread out over his desk. “I know you don’t need me to say this,” she qualified, hoping he didn’t think she was overstepping some employer-employee line, “but that made her very happy.”

  “Well, it wasn’t all one-sided,” Steve told his new housekeeper. A nostalgic smile curved the corners of his mouth. “That’s the way she always used to be, you know. It was nice having that back, even if it turns out to be just for the evening.”

  Becky had always felt it was wise to nurture hope. “Maybe this is the beginning of a brand-new wave.”

  He laughed quietly to himself. “I guess one can only hope.”

  Becky began to leave, then stopped herself. She needed to make this clear, even if it did make her uncomfortable.

  “And I just wanted to tell you again how very sorry I am for the misunderstanding with the phone call. I did think I had the right number,” she told him. “I absolutely would have never knowingly made you worry like that.”

  Steve inclined his head. “Apology accepted,” he said graciously. “Consider it behind us.” He glanced at his computer. “Now I really—”

  Becky didn’t let him finish. “I know, I know. You need to work on that report. I was never here,” she told him, turning on her heel and hurrying away.

  “Oh, but you were,” Steve murmured under his breath, watching as she made her exit, his eyes lingering on the way her hips moved as she retreated.

  She cut one hell of a figure, both coming and going, he couldn’t help thinking.

  Back off, pal. Those aren’t the kind of thoughts you should be having about your housekeeper.