The Daddy Project

by Lee McKenzie

  When they’d first formed their partnership, they had established one simple rule for their meetings. Business first, then, if there was time, they could chat about personal stuff.

  “Thanks for ordering a pot of tea for me.” Kristi pulled out her wallet and laptop, handed Claire a pair of ones to cover the purchase and turned on her computer.

  Claire tucked the money into her handbag. “So, we have a couple of projects wrapping up. Where are we with those?”

  “New gutters and downspouts installed on the Anderson house,” Sam said. “The perimeter drains have been cleaned out, too, so the moisture problems in the basement have been addressed.”

  “Let’s hope so,” Kristi said. “That was one of the worst basements I’ve seen in ages.”

  “But you should see it now,” Sam said to Claire. “This woman worked her magic, convinced the Andersons to replace the carpet with laminate, painted the dark blue walls a nice off-white. You’d never know it was the same place.”

  “You did most of the work,” Kristi reminded her. And as usual she’d done an amazing job.

  “You hauled the junk out of there and got rid of it.” Sam gave a mock shudder. “All those boxes of musty old magazines. Gross.”

  Claire shuddered for real. “You both amaze me. I meet with the Anderson family tomorrow. Now that the estate has been settled, we can move forward with the listing.” She made some quick notes.

  Twenty minutes later brought them to the McTavish house. Kristi’s dream home. Nate’s place.

  Claire looked to Sam first. “What’s left for you to do?”

  Sam slid her empty coffee cup aside and tapped a pencil against the list on her clipboard. “I primed the office and the kids’ bedroom walls on Saturday…while Kristi was out shopping.” She winked at Claire.

  “I saw that,” Kristi said.

  They both smiled.

  “Got started on the closet organizers and bookcases on Saturday afternoon.”

  “How does AJ feel about you working so much?” Claire asked.

  “I’m building them in my workshop at home and Will was out there with me, so he didn’t seem to mind at all.” Sam grinned. “Besides, he had a deadline for an article for a business magazine, so he was working, too.”

  “You have no idea how jealous I am.” Claire was the most traditional of the three of them. She longed for a husband, a home in the suburbs with a white picket fence and a family, and in that order. So far she had a soon-to-be ex-husband, an ultramodern penthouse in a downtown condominium and a biological clock that, according to her, ticked so loud it kept her awake at night.

  “Don’t be jealous,” Sam said. “Your time will come when the right guy comes along.”

  “Like he has for Kristi.” Claire gave her hand a warm squeeze. “I’m jealous of you, too. But before we talk about you, we need to wrap up here. What else needs to be done on the McTavish house?”

  Kristi opened the file. “Inside, after Sam’s finished painting, I’m pretty much down to decluttering and cleaning. That’ll take another week or so. Oh, and I’m making curtains for the girls’ bedroom—”

  Sam and Claire exchanged another look.

  “Don’t start, you two. I looked for ready-mades online and couldn’t find anything, and I can make them for a lot less anyway.”

  “I think it’s very sweet of you,” Claire said.

  Kristi pressed on. “The exterior of the house is fine but the backyard needs a fair bit of work.”

  “What about the swimming pool?” Claire asked. “That’s one of the main selling features of the house, especially since it’s going on the market in the summertime.

  “I’m already on it,” Sam said. “It was a safety concern with two small children in the home, so it’s been empty and kept covered for several years. I discussed the options with Nate when I was there on Saturday, and he’s decided to go with glass rails around the pool.”

  Kristi could picture it perfectly. Molly and Martha in water wings, paddling in the shallow end of the pool. Jenna and her friends hanging out at the other end. She and Nate keeping an eye on all of them from their matching loungers. One big happy…

  “Kristi?” Claire’s voice snapped her out of the daydream.

  “What?”

  “We lost you for a minute. I’m wondering how this affects your timeline.”

  “I was a bit concerned about the pool, especially since the pergola needs work, too. But Sam has a solution.”

  Sam beamed. “As luck would have it, one of our neighbors owns a company that installs all kinds of railings. Interior, exterior, glass, steel, custom designs, you name it. He and his wife had a baby girl a couple of months ago. Someone in their family gave them a beautiful oak crib and they wanted to add a canopy to it. I had some oak boards left over from the Mill’s house we worked on last winter, so I built one for them. They’re great neighbors, and since it was basically built from scrap material, I didn’t charge them for it. They said if I ever need anything…”

  “Perfect,” Claire said. “I love it when these things happen.”

  Kristi patted Sam’s hand. “Me, too. Sam’s neighbor is meeting her at the house later this morning to give us a quote, and he’s said he’ll make this a top priority.”

  “He’s a lot like me,” Sam said. “He hangs on to everything that’s left after an install, and he’s pretty sure he has enough material on hand.”

  Even though Sam had married into money, she was still careful with it. And if she thought something could be used in the future, she didn’t throw it away. Ready Set Sold leased a storage locker, and Kristi had lost count of the number of times Sam had dug out something she’d tucked away, saving them a lot of time, and often saving their clients a lot of money.

  “That leaves the pergola,” Kristi said. “By Wednesday, Nate will be finished collecting data from all those plants and Sam can get started in there. Once they’re gone and the plastic cover has been removed, it just needs a coat of stain.”

  “And then it’s a wrap?” Claire asked.

  Kristi nodded. They prided themselves on being fast and efficient, but she wasn’t ready for this to end.

  Claire turned off her iPad and tucked it in her bag. “All right. Now we can get to the good stuff. I want all the details, starting with your first date.”

  Kristi had a hard time knowing where to begin. Even though she would trust these two women with her life, and even though she knew anything she said went into the vault, she wasn’t sure how much to tell them.

  Sam leaned on her elbows and grinned. “This could take a while. They’ve had three dates already.”

  “We’ve had two dates, and there’s not much to tell. Both were with his family, and the second one included our kids. Besides, they’re not real dates.”

  “Ah, but the first ‘it’s-not-a-real-date’ date ended with a kiss.” Sensible, practical Claire actually looked a little dreamy eyed.

  Kristi’s face got warm. Even days later, thinking about that first kiss left her a little breathless.

  “The kiss shouldn’t have happened,” she said. “Seriously, it took us both by surprise. But I wasn’t prepared for how easy it is to talk to him.”

  “Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “I don’t know. For one thing, he’s smart.”

  “So you’re saying smart people make lousy conversationalists?” Sam laughed as she said it.

  “No, of course not. But he’s not your average intelligen
t guy. He’s really smart. He’s a university professor, a scientist. He’s had stuff published. I saw some of his articles when we were clearing out his office and I couldn’t even understand the titles. He’s even a member of Mensa.” Underneath a pile of books in his office, she’d found a framed certificate with “We’re proud of you! Love, Mom & Dad” written on the matte.

  “Wow,” Claire said.

  “Impressive. But doesn’t that make him even more interesting?” Sam asked.

  “It should, except I’m not smart enough to know what he’s talking about.”

  “Excuse me?” Claire took exception to that. “Don’t you dare sell yourself short. You are one of the smartest women I know. Not to mention creative, compassionate and gorgeous. I would kill to have your figure.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with the figure you have,” Sam said. “The world would be a boring place if we all looked the same, and if we all had exactly the same interests and ability. Look at us. We’re totally different people but we work well together and we’re good friends.”

  True. But as much as Kristi was attracted to Nate and enjoyed being with him, one thing was still niggling at her. Sam had witnessed the scene he’d made over the makeup incident.

  “Fine, yes, everything you say is true. But there’s still a lot I don’t know about him, and I’d be irresponsible if I rushed into anything. Sam, you saw him on Saturday, how angry he got after Jenna put makeup on the twins after they got all dolled up in dress-up clothes.”

  “Yes, that did seem a little over-the-top.”

  “Is he still mad?” Claire asked.

  “No. He apologized to me on Saturday, and he seemed to smooth things over with Jenna on Sunday.” She decided not to mention the children’s pageant because she was sure Nate wouldn’t want anyone to know about it.

  “Dads can be awfully protective when it comes to their daughters,” Claire said.

  Sam shrugged. “I wouldn’t know.”

  “Neither would I,” Kristi said. And maybe that was part of the problem. Nate was so completely different from the fathers she had known. Maybe the good ones were, as Claire suggested, overprotective. “I’ve known this man for less than a week, and I have more than myself to think about here. Everything I do, every decision I make, it all affects Jenna, too. For me to make the right decisions, I need to take things slow.”

  “For sure.” Claire put an arm around her shoulders and gave a gentle squeeze. “We’re not telling you to rush into anything. But I’d hate to see you miss out on a good thing because you’re too afraid to take a chance on this guy.”

  “I do that sometimes, don’t I?”

  Claire laughed. “Sometimes? Every man you’ve dated since we’ve known you has had some major flaw.”

  Sam laughed, too, and Kristi joined them. “What can I say? My mother and my aunt Wanda introduced me to them. Apparently the world is full of Bernie Halversons.”

  “Who’s Bernie Halverson?” Sam asked.

  “The guy who’d be going with me to my aunt and uncle’s Fourth of July barbecue if Nate and I hadn’t come up with the fake date arrangement.”

  Claire checked her watch and slid out of her chair. “I’d love to hear more about Nate—Bernie, not so much—but I’m meeting clients in half an hour. Let’s do a quick check-in by conference call at the end of the day, okay?”

  “Good plan. By then I should be finished painting and have the estimate on the glass rail for the pool.”

  “Fantastic. What about you, Kristi?”

  “I’m shopping for storage baskets and boxes this morning, and then I’ll be working at home. I need to finish the curtains.” She had another project in mind for Nate’s place and she needed to shop for supplies for that, too, but she wasn’t ready to tell Sam and Claire about it. Not yet. Mostly because they were out of time, but also because it didn’t exactly fit with her plan to take things slow.

  Chapter Eleven

  Kristi quickly cleared the junk mail, candle holders, dog leash and her morning teacup from the kitchen table, and then she set down the bag of supplies she’d brought home from the craft store. On the counter between the kitchen and eating area, she carefully spread the photo strips she had surreptitiously collected at Nate’s place. He didn’t seem to notice they were missing, and until she was finished with them, she was keeping her fingers crossed he wouldn’t.

  She picked up one of the most recent strips and turned it over. She was impressed that he had carefully noted the date, and sometimes the occasion, on the back of each strip. How many guys would think to do that? Not many. Certainly none she knew.

  In Nate’s case, these systematically labeled photo strips resembled the work he was doing in his gazebo-slash-greenhouse. She had watched him out there when he didn’t know it. Every plant had an ID label attached to its pot, and all the data he gathered was entered into his computer and double-checked for accuracy.

  He didn’t apply the same level of detail to everything—the foyer closet attested to that—but he paid attention to the things that really mattered. She loved that about him. No, she liked that about him.

  She set the photo back on the counter, faceup, and emptied the craft store bags. Four white shadow boxes. An assortment of scrapbooking paper, a package of miniature clothespins, a roll of twine. Plus the box of screws with little eyelets on the ends that she’d picked up at the hardware store.

  She had never done anything like this for a client before, and she sincerely hoped she wasn’t overstepping. It had taken a while for her to come up with a project to display the photographs without damaging them or altering them in any way. If he totally hated her idea, at least he could remove the strips and put them back on the fridge.

  “Stop worrying about it.” She loved to dream up DIY projects, and she was sure this one would be a winner.

  She pulled the measuring tape out of her basket of sewing supplies and double-checked the widths of the shadow boxes and photo strips. Each box would easily hold six strips, with room to spare.

  She planned to make two boxes for the girls’ bedroom—one for each of them—and another for Nate’s office. The fourth could go in the family room, or he might even want to have it in his office at the university. Did university professors do that sort of thing?

  At the craft store she hadn’t been able to decide on what to use for the backdrop in each box, so she’d purchased more paper than she needed. Now she spread the sheets on the table and studied them.

  The polka-dot print in three shades of purple on white was an obvious choice for Martha. She was torn between two pink designs for Molly but finally settled on the peppermint-pink butterfly silhouettes, again on white. The two patterns complemented one another, fit the design scheme she’d created for their bedroom and still personalized each girl’s keepsake.

  For Nate’s office she decided on a sheet with a mossy-green solid background and a plant motif in a slightly lighter shade. She compared it to the paint sample she’d chosen. Perfect.

  She couldn’t decide on a background for the fourth box, so she set it aside and turned to the photographs. Should she randomly choose six strips for each box? Unable to decide, she sorted them chronologically.

  The first few were taken when the girls were about a year and a half old. Nate said he’d started taking them when his wife was in the hospital and too sick to visit with their young daughters. As toddlers, Molly and Martha were adorable with their wispy blond curls and innocent smiles. Mar
tha was sucking her thumb in at least half of the shots.

  Kristi’s chest went tight. She had allowed these two little cuties to carve themselves a large niche in her life, and there would be a big hole in her heart when the house was finished and she and their father were no longer pretending they had a thing for each other. Ending the fake relationship would leave another hole. If she wasn’t careful, her poor heart was going to resemble a piece of Swiss cheese.

  “That has to be the dumbest analogy for a broken heart I’ve heard.” Besides, her heart could only be broken if she let it.

  She laughed at her own nonsense and woke Hercules from his slumbers on a sunny patch of the floor near the patio doors. He cocked a quizzical ear, then scratched at the glass. She slid the door open for him, checking to be sure the gate to the common area was securely latched so he couldn’t get away.

  Setting her emotions aside and letting her creative instincts take over, she skimmed the strips again and selected six, each containing at least one photograph of the girls kissing Nate’s cheeks. She set those with the green paper she’d chosen for Nate’s shadow box and looked for similar themes for each girl. For Molly, some of the sillier pictures, like the one with the girls making bunny ears over their dad’s head. For Martha she chose several of the more serious poses, including one in which they were looking at a book with dinosaurs on the cover.

  The front door opened. “Mom?”

  “In here, sweetie.”

  Jenna came through the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge on her way.

  “How was the water park?”

  “Fun. It’s hot out, though.” She flopped onto a chair, unscrewed the bottle cap and took a long drink. “Ah, I needed that. On the way home, Abbie’s mom took us to the drive-through for ice cream.”

  “That was nice of her.”

  Jenna took another drink and capped the bottle. “What are you working on?”