by Cathie Linz
Rubbing the back of his neck, he stared at the pile of paperwork that still needed completing by the morning. The government liked everything done in triplicate and that included forms. The five minutes he’d given Blue went by in the blink of an eye. When he walked into her room, she was waiting for him, sitting in her bed as erect as any seasoned marine.
“At ease,” he told her.
She blinked at him and relaxed a bit. She should be happy. He wished she’d be happy. Hell, the kid had a bedroom fit for a princess. He’d let her pick out everything herself, partially because he didn’t have a clue what a three-year-old would like and partially to please her.
She was his daughter, but she was still a stranger to him. Maybe if he’d been in her life from the time she’d been a baby, maybe then he’d be a pro at this daddy stuff by now.
As it was, he was feeling totally out of his element here. The kid had such sad eyes. Brown like his. And she rarely smiled. She did grin when he did his Three Stooges impersonations, but he suspected that was just because she got a kick out of him making a fool of himself.
Like he had with that teacher today. For some reason she’d looked familiar to him, but he couldn’t think why. He wasn’t even sure of her name, at the time he’d been so rattled that he hadn’t been paying much attention except when she’d ordered him to stay put.
Having briefly served as a drill sergeant, he’d recognized the steel in her voice. He could clear an entire room or dismiss a group of recruits with a single barked order. He’d been careful not to use that tone of voice around Blue. And not to swear. It wasn’t easy sometimes.
As he looked around Blue’s room, a host of Disney characters stared back at him from just about every surface—from the lamp shade to the sheets. He didn’t know who the characters were, but Blue did. He’d been lucky that this two-bedroom unit had been available and in the same building as the furnished studio apartment he’d just rented on a monthly basis—before he’d known about Blue. The landlord had been willing to transfer the lease to this larger place.
“So you’re all set for bed then, right?” he said.
Blue nodded solemnly.
“Do you need anything?” he asked.
“Fooba.”
Curt reached for the grungy teddy bear propped against the foot of her bed. He’d offered to buy her a new bear but she’d insisted on keeping this mangy-looking thing. He suspected it was because her mother had given it to her.
He reached out, planning on smoothing Blue’s ruffled hair…before he chickened out and reached for the switch on the Disney lamp instead.
“Good night then,” he said.
“My shoes is shined,” Blue suddenly announced.
“I…uh…that’s nice.”
She lifted the sheet to show him the black patent leather shoes she was still wearing.
Jeez, what kind of father was he to send his kid to bed with her shoes on?
“Now they’s like yours,” she said proudly.
“Yes, they are, but even I don’t wear my shoes to bed. Let’s take them off, you little monkey.”
“I’s not a monkey,” she said solemnly. “I’s a girl.”
“You sure are.”
“Would you like me more if I’s a monkey?”
Imagining her trying to swing from the canopied bedposts, he hurriedly said, “No, I certainly would not like you better if you were a monkey.”
“Oh.” She sounded disappointed.
“I think staying a little girl is a wise move,” he said, fumbling with the sissy strap on her shoes. He felt like a bull in a china shop. His hands were so big and her little girl stuff was so tiny. The first time he’d had to help her with her clothes it had taken him an hour to get her dressed.
Finally he got the shoes off her feet and tucked neatly beneath her bed. “Okay, now you’re really ready for bed, right?”
Blue nodded.
“Good.”
“But Fooba isn’t,” she added.
Curt sighed. It was going to be another long night.
The next afternoon, Curt was once again in Jessica’s classroom, to pick up Blue after work. He was running five minutes behind schedule, but he should be able to make that up on the drive home providing he wasn’t delayed…
“Mr. Blackwell, I’d like to speak to you in private for a moment.”
The teacher. Glaring at him.
Curt sighed. There went his schedule.
Jessica heard him sigh, and the fact that he made her feel as if she was being a nuisance didn’t endear him to her any. Too bad. If he’d filled out the parental information forms about Blue’s likes and dislikes that Jessica had sent home with the little girl yesterday, then Jessica wouldn’t have to speak to him today.
No, that wasn’t entirely true. She’d still need to discuss with him what Blue had said about Curt not liking her and his having told her so. The little girl’s offhand comment had sliced Jessica’s heart. She wasn’t eager to spend any time with Curt, but she couldn’t turn her back on Blue. It was Jessica’s responsibility as her teacher to do what she could. Even if that meant dealing with Curt.
Today his marine uniform consisted of khaki green slacks and a khaki shirt. It made her wonder what he looked like in a black T-shirt and jeans. Don’t go there, she warned herself. Keep your mind on Blue.
But before she could bring up the matter of the missing forms, Curt said, “What’s the problem? Has Blue been misbehaving?”
“On the contrary,” Jessica replied. “She’s very careful not to do anything wrong.”
Curt’s relieved smile reflected his approval. “That’s good.”
“No, it’s not. Not when it means that she’s terrified of doing something wrong. She thinks you don’t like her.”
“I like the kid well enough,” Curt replied defensively, “and I never told her any differently.”
“So you never told her that you didn’t like her?”
His “No, ma’am” was a marine bark.
“Perhaps she overheard you telling someone else?” she suggested.
“No, ma’am.” His narrow-eyed gaze told her he didn’t appreciate this line of questioning.
“Have you told her that you love her?”
If she didn’t know better, she could almost have sworn that Curt actually squirmed in his seat. “No.”
“Why not? Children need to hear…”
“Look, I didn’t even know she existed until a few days ago, her mother never bothered telling me. When she died, the authorities tracked me down and brought Blue to me. I’ve only known her a few days.” Straightening his shoulders, Curt stared her right in the eye, his glance as steely as a double-edged sword. “Blue is my responsibility now, and I take my responsibilities seriously.”
“I’m just trying to do what’s right for Blue,” Jessica assured him. “She needs attention and security.”
“That’s why I signed her up here. That’s your job.”
Jessica refused to give in to her anger. “She’s looking for love and attention from a parent. From you. I realize that being a parent is a new situation for you. Our local community college has some classes that you might find helpful,” she suggested.
“I don’t need to go back to school,” he stated in disgust. “I’ve handled much more responsibility than a little three-year-old kid.” Seeing the expression on her face, he held up one hand and added, “I’m not saying I couldn’t use a few pointers. But you can do that. You can teach me what I need to know.”
Here it was. That fork in the road. Did she dare go down it with him? Even for Blue’s sake?
What other choice did she have? “I’d be willing to work with you and suggest some additional reading,” she said cautiously, “if you’re willing to learn some additional parenting skills.”
“Wait a second,” Curt said, a lightbulb suddenly going on in those brown eyes of his as he leaned forward to stare at her as if seeing her—really seeing her—for the first time. “I know w
ho you are.”
Oh, no, not now. Not here. She wasn’t ready for this yet.
“You’re Jessie the Brain!” he said triumphantly. “We went to high school together.”
Chapter 2
“YOUR HAIR WAS LONGER then, but you gave me the same speech about being ‘willing to learn’ when you offered to tutor me in Geometry.”
Jessie the Brain. Curt couldn’t believe that she was back in his life again after all this time. The last time he’d seen her was…
He frowned. It had to have been that night before he’d left to join the marines. The memory was blurred by his having indulged in way too much alcohol that night. He recalled them bumping into each other and his surprise—first that he’d asked her to join him for a joy ride in his old red Mustang, second that she’d actually accepted, and third that he’d let her drive his car. They’d ended up in some park somewhere, and he’d kissed her…several times.
What happened after that wasn’t clear. But the next morning, he’d woken with the worst hangover of his life. His temples throbbed just thinking about it.
As for the vague sense of guilt he was feeling, no doubt it was a result of the fact that he’d never gotten in touch with her again after that night.
At the time, he’d briefly wondered how far their making out had gone. Had he reached first base…or third? There was little to no chance he’d hit a home run and gone all the way—not with Jessie the Brain. She was a “good” girl, pure and demure. His total opposite.
Maybe this explained why she’d stared at him with such underlying hostility earlier. He’d probably made an idiot of himself that night, and she’d put him in his place when he’d tried to seduce her.
He looked at her with new eyes. Her honey-blond hair used to be longer, almost down to her waist. It was barely shoulder-length now, in one of those layered cuts that women these days seemed to favor. A hazy memory of him threading his fingers through her long silky hair flashed through his mind with the abruptness of an exploding land mine. He blinked at the unexpected vision. But when he tried to recapture the image, it was gone.
She had cat’s eyes, tipped up at the outside corners. Leaning forward, he saw that they were an intense shade of green that reminded him of the jungles in the Philippines. Unless she was wearing colored contact lenses?
He cynically reminded himself that women had various ways of camouflaging themselves into something they weren’t—everything from nose jobs to breast implants.
His gaze slid down her body with quick efficiency. She was wearing a pair of khaki slacks and a pink shirt. Nothing sexy there. Very practical attire. But beneath that no-nonsense outfit she had a Marilyn Monroe kind of figure that wasn’t popular on TV and movies these days, but which any man preferred over skinny orphan looks. He’d seen too many skinny orphans during his tours of duty overseas. Their grateful looks and shy smiles when he’d handed out candy bars that he’d always kept in his pocket still haunted his sleep some nights.
Jessie the Brain wasn’t the type of woman who’d haunt a man’s dreams. There wasn’t anything about her that really stood out, aside from those catlike green eyes. But there was something about her just the same, an inner strength combined with a warm heart.
Here was a woman who faced life head-on. Here was a woman not impressed by his uniform. Here was a woman staring at him with disapproval and dismay—the kind of look he’d gotten from a majority of the adults in his teenage life. Not a look he’d received lately.
“It’s been a long time,” he murmured.
She shrugged.
“Jessie the Brain.” He shook his head, as if still unable to believe they’d run into each other again. “After all these years. Your hair is shorter now.”
Her hand flew up to her hair as if guilty at being caught. “So’s yours,” she shot back.
He nodded with a sense of satisfaction. Oh, yeah, she was definitely the kind of woman who could hold her own.
“But getting back to your daughter.” Her voice held a no-nonsense tone that made him smile for some reason. “I really do think it would be best if you took one of the parenting classes at the community college—”
He cut off her words with a sharp wave of his hand. “You already said you’d be willing to work with me. There’s no backing out now.”
“I wasn’t trying to back out.”
His look challenged her claim.
“Okay, maybe I was,” she admitted. “Because I’m not at all sure of your commitment to learning and to working with me.”
His narrowed gaze had made new recruits quiver in their boots. “You’re questioning my commitment?”
She showed no signs of being intimidated. Instead she gave him a narrow-eyed gaze of her own. “Do you really think you can hack Daddy Boot Camp?”
“Just try me,” he said.
“If I think for one minute you’re slacking off—”
“I’m a marine,” he interrupted her. “We don’t slack off.”
“Fine.” She grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled down a few things before handing it to him. “Read these books by the weekend. I’m busy on Saturday, but I have Sunday free. I’ll put you through some parenting exercises then.”
“Outstanding. Your place or mine?”
His place or hers? Which would be the lesser of two evils, Jessica wondered. Having him invade her domain, or venturing into enemy territory by going to his place? The practical side of her pointed out that if she went to his place, she’d have a chance to see for herself where Blue lived and under what conditions.
“Your place,” she said crisply.
“Excellent.” His voice was just as crisp. Frowning, he said, “Do you keep in touch with anyone from the old neighborhood?”
She didn’t want to talk about the past, but his question was so innocuous that it would raise a red flag if she didn’t reply. “Only Amy Weissman. I wasn’t exactly the most popular girl in school.” She was pleased to hear that her voice sounded matter-of-fact and displayed no bitterness.
Instead of commenting on her statement, Curt said, “So I guess you went on to college just like you planned? The University of Illinois was it?”
She was surprised he’d remembered that much. “That’s right.” She didn’t want to talk about the past any longer. It was a part of her life she’d put into a sealed box and stored in a distant part of mind. That had worked until this man had walked back into her life. “But that was a very long time ago.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “It was.”
He gave her no indication that he remembered what they’d shared, that night of passion in the back seat of his car. He’d probably had so many women since then that he couldn’t keep track of them all, she thought tartly. What had been a momentous occasion for her had clearly been nothing much to him.
That all-too-familiar stab of pain pierced her heart, as it had when he’d first walked into her classroom.
Get over it, she fiercely ordered herself. Keep your mind on the goal here, make things better for Blue. The pain lessened, and she gazed at him without revealing her inner turmoil.
“I’ll see you on Sunday then,” she said in a dismissive voice.
“You certainly will, ma’am,” he drawled, unfolding his lean body from the chair to give her a mocking salute before heading toward the door.
She couldn’t help herself. She stuck her tongue out at him. It was juvenile and impolite, but it sure felt good.
Until he said, “I saw that.” Not bothering to stop or turn around, he indicated the mirrorlike reflective surface of the window next to the door into her classroom. “Nice tongue,” he added before exiting.
This time she waited until he left before throwing a crumpled ball of paper after him.
Just when she thought it was safe, he popped his head around the door frame to say, “Nice toss. For a girl.”
“Nice compliment. For a marine.”
His smile indicated his appreciation for her quick comeback. “I thi
nk we’ll get along just fine.”
She’d thought so at one time. But not now, not again. Not in this lifetime.
Curt frowned at the pile of books strewn across the living-room couch. Who knew there was so much to learn about a three-year-old?
He shuddered with relief that he didn’t have to deal with the chapters marked Potty Training. He was sure that would have brought even a tough guy like him to his knees. He could have managed if Blue had been a boy. Heck, the suggestions for boys had sounded like target practice, only this time the targets had been floating Cheerios in a toilet bowl instead of enemy forces in a battlefield.
But girls were different. Different in so many ways that it was all he could do not give in to the doubts prowling around the pit of his stomach, just waiting for him to screw up as he’d done so many times as a teenager. Being in the marines had rid him of those feelings, or so he’d thought until Blue had shown up on his doorstep.
He refused to surrender to fear. Marines never surrendered. They survived. They overcame. They succeeded. Over all odds.
Or they regrouped to fight another day.
Jessie the Brain was coming here tomorrow. He tried to view the place through her eyes. It was clean. Scrupulously so. No easy feat with a kid who seemed determined to leave her toys all over the place, even stuffing things in his shoes and his briefcase.
At first he’d been pleased that she’d liked the set of small trucks he’d bought her. It wasn’t as if trucks were a girly thing. Maybe he should have gotten her dolls or stuffed animals. But she’d liked the trucks and had played with them for hours. When she wasn’t hiding them in his shoes or briefcase.
One thing was for sure, Jessie wouldn’t be able to give him any demerits on the safety front. He’d had the entire place childproofed—from the kitchen and bathroom cabinets and drawers to the electrical outlets and the pull strings on the venetian blinds covering the windows.
Of course he had yet to master the art of bypassing the kidproofing to open some of the cabinets or drawers himself, but he’d learn. Just as he’d learned how to open childproof bottles of aspirin without taking a hacksaw to them.
