Mother Knows Best

by Barbara Bretton

  "Don't worry. The girls and I have an understanding. I don't feed them spinach and they don't wake me up before eight a.m. "She put the car into reverse and began to roll down the driveway. "Believe me, Paula, everything's under control."

  Chapter Two

  "Pee-pee."

  "I'm hearing things." Diana carefully maneuvered the station wagon through a puddle deep enough to sink a tank. "You cannot possibly need the bathroom again."

  "Pee-pee."

  She glanced into the rearview mirror at the innocent, chocolate-stained faces of her nieces. "Tell me you're kidding, girls. Tell me this is your idea of a good joke."

  Kath shook her head, her blonde curls bobbing around her ears with the motion. "Now!" Jenny looked at her mirror image then at Diana. "Now," the child repeated at a decibel level reserved for B-52 bombers. "Right now!"

  If Diana had learned anything these last three hours, she'd learned that two-year-olds never joked about chocolate, puppy dogs, or bathrooms; if she intended to salvage the interior of the rented station wagon from further assault she needed to find a restroom pronto.

  Not that there were any around, mind you. The road was tree-lined and lovely, peppered with farms and vineyards and an occasional house or two, but the signs of civilization she'd expected were conspicuously absent.

  Why on earth had she thought getting off the Long Island Expressway was such a brilliant idea? When the air conditioning conked out about five miles before Riverhead, escaping the knot of overheated cars had seemed inspired thinking. But now even the hood-to-trunk traffic that had brought the highway to a virtual standstill from the New York City line all the way out to Mastic Beach was preferable to being lost in the middle of nowhere. Didn't these people believe in road signs?

  Next to her, Ignatius meowed pitifully and extended one elegant paw through the bars of his cat carrier.

  "I know, friend," Diana said, "but you wouldn't bail out on me after all these years, would you?" Ignatius let loose with a horrendous yowl that set the twins giggling in the back seat.

  "What good are you anyway?" she grumbled affectionately. "I've read those stories about cats who find their way across ten states, the Rocky Mountains, and three time zones looking for their beloved master." She tapped his extended paw lightly with her finger and grinned at his annoyed hiss. "The least you could do is find East Hampton for me."

  After all, it wasn't like Long Island was the size of Texas. It was a nice, manageable stretch of land bounded on all sides by bodies of water, one of which -- the Atlantic Ocean -- she was certain to run into any moment.

  "Pee-pee!" the girls chorused.

  "I'm doing my best," she said, praying Pampers and Scotchguard lived up to all the wonderful things she'd written about them. Did collision insurance cover reupholstering the backseat?

  Kath burst into tears and after a beat Jenny followed suit. The uproar apparently got under Ignatius's royal skin and he upped the volume on his high-pitched howling.

  "Everything's under control," Diana said, trying to convince herself. "There's no reason on earth to get upset." This was America, land of the Big Mac and the Whopper and sparkling clean restrooms. Any moment she'd round a bend and there, glittering in the late afternoon sun, would be the golden arches that made every citizen's heart beat faster.

  Unfortunately the only thing around each bend in the road was another bend in the road. Didn't people on the east end of Long Island eat hamburgers? This had to be the one strip of American roadway without a fast food joint on the horizon.

  Now Diana had always considered trendy summer resorts with the kind of scorn she reserved for sushi bars and singles weekends, but she'd never once imagined they lacked the normal creature comforts the rest of the population enjoyed. Good grief, she hadn't even seen a gas station in more miles than she dared count and the needle on the gauge was moving inexorably toward E.

  The din inside the station wagon grew unbearable and so, she assumed, did the girls' discomfort. Paula's twenty minute discourse on toilet training came back to haunt her. "They'll tell you what they need," her sister had said that morning. "Follow their lead and you won't have any trouble."

  "I'd love to follow their lead," Diana muttered now in desperation, "if I could only find a place." Her sister's approach to toilet training had a great deal to do with clean bathrooms, booster seats, and a certain degree of privacy. Diana didn't dare imagine what traumas she would be inflicting on the twins if she pulled over to the side of the road and tried to introduce them to the wonders to be found behind a hedge of rhododendrons.

  Her alter ego, would know what to do. Mother Knows Best had a thousand-and-one answers for mildewed shower curtains, flat soda pop, and lipstick on the collar. That resourceful woman would advise Diana to pull right into someone's driveway, tap on the door, and prevail upon the mercy inherent in most people when faced with two adorable blonde toddlers and one not-so-adorable blonde adult who was about to go over the edge.

  Three driveways.

  Three houses.

  Three strikes and you're out.

  Diana got back into the car, rested her forehead against the steering wheel, and wished she could click her white sandals together three times and find herself back in her sister's Colonial house with the central air conditioning and two and a half bathrooms.

  "Who's kidding whom?" she said out loud. At this point she'd settle for just the half.

  "Somethin' wrong, lady?"

  Diana jumped at the sound of a man's voice by her open window.

  "Those kids of yours are making a real racket."

  Was there a law about noise in the Hamptons? She wondered but, discretion being the better part of valor, she didn't ask. Eight foot tall policemen rarely appreciated attempts at sarcasm.

  "I'm sorry," she managed, barely able to disguise the edge in her voice. "We're having a minor crisis."

  "Anything I can help with?"

  "Only if you can tell me where I can find the nearest restroom."

  "Pee pee!" screamed the girls from the back seat.

  The policeman craned his head inside the open window and glanced at the two squalling toddlers. "Gotta go? Is that the problem?"

  What was wrong with the man -- did he need an affidavit scribbled on a soggy Pampers as proof?

  "They need a bathroom," she said abruptly. "Any ideas?"

  He pointed toward a huge azalea along some fencing. "Plenty of privacy back there."

  She looked closely. "And plenty of poison ivy, too. There must be a McDonald's somewhere close by."

  "None that I can think of."

  "Burger King?"

  He shook his head.

  "White Castle."

  He made a face.

  "Pizzeria? Chinese restaurant? Gas station? Your house?" she asked in desperation.

  "There's the Sweet Hollow General Store up ahead about a mile." He looked in again at the wailing twins and the screeching cat. "Think they can hold out?"

  "We've made it this far. I'm sure we can make it another mile." She started the engine. "You're sure they have bathrooms?"

  "Positive." He narrowed his eyes and made no move to allow her to leave. "They seem to be yelling pretty good back there. Anything wrong I should know about?"

  She did her best to maintain her temper. "There's nothing wrong that a restroom couldn't cure." She put the car into drive. "If there's nothing else..."

  Finally he moved away from the window.

  "I appreciate your help," she offered. "I'm glad to discover the Hamptons' finest are so efficient."

  What an odd look that policeman gave her as she moved back into traffic. She'd almost swear he made a note of her license plate number although it was hard to believe any known criminals made a habit of traveling with a pair of toddlers and one neurotic cat.

  Diana cast a glance into her rearview mirror and shuddered at the pitiful sight that looked back at her. It was a miracle the policeman hadn't arrested her on the spot for vagrancy. Her dar
k blonde curls, which had once been arranged in a casual upsweep, were tumbling down about her shoulders in a mass of frosted frizz. Her hazel eyes were wide and desperate and her careful makeup had dissolved along with her belief that two toddlers were as easy as one. She didn't dare wonder why on earth she'd chosen to wear her favorite dry-clean-only sundress; maybe she'd get a column inch on removing apple juice and chocolate kisses from hand-crocheted lace.

  She cringed at the thought of all those cheerful how-to tips she dispensed about maintaining "24 hour beauty on a five minute investment." Why she hadn't been lynched by a mob of new mothers was a testament to the sense of humor of the American woman.

  A half mile up the road, the Sweet Hollow General Store appeared just as the policeman had promised. A small, one-story building, it stood some thirty feet off the road, its weathered red clapboard siding giving evidence to the number of years it had braved the sun and salt air. The Palace at Versailles couldn't have been a more welcome sight. She turned the wheel sharply right and the wagon's tires kicked up a spray of gravel that pinged off the fenders and windshield. The only other car in sight was a black Corvette of uncertain vintage that gleamed bright in the orange sun of late afternoon. How nice to know that in the land of Rolls-Royces and Mercedes Benzes, there was still someone around who believed in buying American.

  Getting the girls out of their car seats turned out to be more difficult than getting them into their car seats had been -- due in no small measure to the fact that she was utterly alone this time around. Their steady crying, punctuated with frequent hiccoughs had Diana's nerves jangling as if she were hooked up to an IV of straight caffeine.

  Regular rules of mathematics obviously didn't matter when it came to children, because it had taken her less than a full afternoon to realize that one-plus-one equaled a great deal more than two when the objects in question were twin girls.

  Sweat rolled down her forehead and into her eyes, and she felt a stream of perspiration forming between her breasts as she struggled with the snaps and buckles on the car seats. She was certain she hadn't looked this terrible since the time she had her wisdom teeth pulled.

  Finally she unhooked them both and set them down on the sandy ground next to her then released Ignatius from his cat carrier so he could escape the deadly heat of the steaming car. Diana looped his leash around her wrist, scooped her nieces up in her arms then took off at a clip toward the front door of this oasis in the middle of the wilderness.

  Juggling the girls awkwardly, she was about to reach for the doorknob when she saw the big red and white sign with contained the most unwelcome word in the English language printed neatly across it.

  "C-L-O-S-E-D," Kath and Jenny chirped in unison.

  "Thank you, Sesame Street," Diana said. The store simply couldn't be closed. The vintage Corvette in the parking lot had to belong to somebody.

  She knocked on the door with her elbow, waited a second, then knocked again. The scratchy sound of a baseball broadcast filtered out to where she stood on the front step. Desperate times called for desperate measures and, etiquette be damned, she tried the doorknob and to her infinite relief, the door swung open wide.

  The inside of the store was blessedly cool and dimly lit and it smelled of cedar and cinnamon. Stacks of bright quilts filled a long line of shelves and copper pots hung from wrought iron hooks overhead. Huge wooden barrels piled high with penny candy lined the far wall and if she didn't know better she would have imagined she'd stepped back into another century, but, of course they didn't have Derek Jeter the New York Yankees in any century but this one.

  "Hello! Is anybody here?" The girls wriggled with unmistakable urgency and Diana pulled a reluctant Ignatius along with her toward the rear of the store. "Please, if there's anybody around, I desperately need -- "

  "A bathroom."

  The timbre of the man's voice was deep and rich. Diana spun around only to discover that the resonant voice was the least of his assets. For the first time, she understood the meaning of tall, dark, and handsome.

  "Are you psychic?" she asked. Or just gorgeous.

  "Observant." His lopsided grin made his movie star good looks a shade more human. "In fact, it may be too late."

  "Don't say that," she moaned, suddenly aware of the soggy feel of the girls' bottoms. "I forgot to bring the Pampers in with me."

  "No problem." He gestured toward a partially opened door near the rear counter. "You get started and I'll get the diapers for you." There really was no justice in this world: he not only had a dimple in his left cheek, he was agreeable as well. "I'm the red station wagon." Like he'll think you showed up in a sleek little Corvette. "The car is open and the box is in the back. You don't know how much I appreciate this -- " Ignatius suddenly leaped forward, hissing madly at the sight of a caged parakeet and Diana struggled to pull him back, hang onto the girls, and keep her balance all at the same time.

  "Give me the cat." The dark-haired man unwrapped the leash from around her wrist and gestured to Ignatius who, to Diana's astonishment, sidled over immediately. Smart cat, Iggy. He wouldn't have to ask me twice, either. "Abyssinian. About eleven years old."

  Her mouth dropped open. "You're amazing. Most people think he's a fat, bald alley cat."

  "I didn't say he wasn't fat." The man gestured toward the girls who were howling full volume. "If you don't get them into the bathroom, you'll have an even bigger problem. I'll get the diapers."

  The heat, that's what it was. The heat had gotten inside her brain cells and altered her normal thought patterns. If he hadn't ordered her into the bathroom with the twins, she might have stood there, staring up at him like a lovestruck calf, for the next decade or two.

  He disappeared out the front door and Diana finally regained control of her equilibrium and whisked the twins to the bathroom where it turned out to be too late for one child and just in time for the other. The room was small but clean and she put Kath on the john and sat Jenny down on a bright red towel and removed her soggy diaper.

  "I told you pee-pee," the child said, her blue eyes wide.

  "I know you did, honey. I just couldn't find a bathroom quick enough."

  "Hungry," said Kath from her vantage point above them. "Pizza and bananas."

  Diana made a terrible face. "I'm glad you're not a chef. How about pizza and pepperoni instead?"

  Jenny's laugh mirrored her twin's. "Pizza and popcorn."

  Diana kissed the top of the head. "How about just plain pizza and we'll have ice cream later." Forgive me, Paula. It's been one of those days. It would be nothing but green salads, milk, and lean chicken from tomorrow onward.

  "Sounds good to me." Her savior stood in the doorway, carrying two boxes of diapers, one marked super and the other extra super. "Take your pick."

  Smiling gratefully, she grabbed the former. "Extra super are for nighttime."He arched a dark brow. "Might come in handy for car trips."

  "This should do fine. We're almost there." She was about to slide the diaper under Jenny's bottom when she stopped and looked up at him. "I don't know how to ask you this, but I need the baby wipes."

  "In the car?"

  "In the car."

  Again he disappeared out the door and again he was back in an instant.Here was easily the most glorious man she'd seen in many a year and she was discussing baby wipes with him. Was there no justice in this world?

  "How old are they?" He leaned against the doorjamb, with Ignatius at his feet, and watched as she cleaned Jenny up then moved on to Kath.

  "Two plus." She pushed a lock of hair off her forehead with the back of her arm. Why on earth did he have to stand there and watch her final collapse? Didn't he have anything better to do? "A very difficult age."

  "Her arm is stuck in the sleeve."

  She extricated the tiny limb. "Thank you."

  "I think you dropped the other one's shoe behind the sink."

  Sure enough. Jenny's bright red sneaker rested on its side near the cold water pipe. "Thank you agai
n."

  He nodded, arms folded across his broad chest.

  "You look like you're having a problem. Why don't you let me help?"

  Did everyone in the Hamptons have an opinion on child care? There was a limit to how much humiliation she was willing to endure in one twenty-four hour span. "If you really want to help, you and Ignatius can wait for us out front."

  He was gone before she could call back her words.

  "Isn't that just wonderful," she mumbled as she buttoned Kath back into her pink romper. "The man saves our lives and I toss him out of his own bathroom."

  She discarded the soiled diaper, washed her hands, then led the girls back out into the store proper, a polite smile plastered on her face.

  He was crouched down near the front door, scratching Ignatius's round belly and the sight of his long tanned fingers moving rhythmically across the cat's body did something odd inside her and she took a deep breath. She was looking down so she couldn't see his face, but she already knew about the glittering blue eyes, the cleft chin and the shiny dark brown hair that would still be thick and wavy even after it had turned silver.

  His waist was lean and his legs long which made his football player shoulders look even more imposing than it was. He was a man in his prime, radiating good health and vitality -- a living, breathing advertisement for made-in-America. Casually dressed in faded jeans and a red t-shirt, he managed to look better than most men did in tuxedos.

  "Well," Diana said brightly, painfully aware of her own disarray, "thank you for all your help." She pulled a dollar bill from her pocket and laid it on the counter.

  "What's that for?" he asked, rising and handing her the cat's leash.

  "The towel. It needs laundering."

  "Keep it." He approached her and instinctively she shrank back. He stood easily a foot above her own five feet four inches and radiated such pure male power that visions of pirates and privateers rose unbidden to her mind.

  She pocketed the money. "Thank you again." Still smiling, she led the girls and Ignatius down the front steps and headed across the gravel toward the station wagon with her pirate-savior right behind. She stopped a few feet before the car and wheeled around. "Is there something else?"