by Lee McKenzie
“Shadow boxes for Nate’s place.”
“Cool.” She picked up a photo strip, put it down and picked up another. “Wow. They have a lot of these.”
“I know. Aren’t they adorable? I’ve been finding them all over the house, so I decided to figure out some way to display them.”
“So you’re putting them in these frames?”
“Yes, I thought this would be a fun way to display them. I’m going to screw these little eyelets into the inside of the boxes.” She opened the package and took out two of them. “Like this.”
She measured and marked the inside of each frame, then with a small pair of pliers from her craft box, inserted the screws.
“Now I’ll run a piece of this twine from one ring to the other to make a little clothesline. If you’d like to give me a hand, you could measure and cut four of those.”
“Sure.” Jenna dug a pair of scissors out of the sewing basket. “Oh, these are so cute!” She picked up the package of mini clothespins. “You’re going to use these to hang the pictures on the clothesline? Neat idea.”
“I thought so.” She hoped Nate would agree.
While Jenna installed the twine clotheslines, Kristi glued the colored paper to the backboard for three of the boxes. Then together they hung the photo strips, attached the backing and stood back to admire their handiwork.
“What do you think?” Kristi asked.
“You always have such neat ideas. It’d be fun to make one of these for Abbie for her birthday.”
“Good idea.”
“And it’s obvious you’re totally into this guy.”
“What?”
“You asked what I thought. I’m telling you.” Jenna drained her water bottle, got up and nonchalantly tossed it in the recycling bin in the cupboard under the sink.
Smarty pants. “Nate and I hardly even know each other.”
“You’ve been on three dates in less than a week.”
“Three? How did you come up with that?”
“You went out Friday night. I babysat, remember? Then you went out on Saturday, and I babysat again.”
“Saturday wasn’t a date. We went to look at furniture.”
“And then you went for lunch. That totally makes it a date.”
Kristi let that slide.
“And there was Sunday brunch. Also a date.”
Arguing would be pointless. The whole purpose of going together to these family events was so everyone would believe they were dating. She hated to deceive her daughter, but she hated the thought of having Bernie Halverson show up at Aunt Wanda and Uncle Ted’s barbecue even more.
“Do you mind?” Kristi asked, steering the conversation in a different direction. “I know you were mad about the way Nate handled the whole makeup thing when you looked after the girls on Saturday.”
“We talked,” Jenna said. “He apologized, and now we have an understanding.”
An understanding? “Um…what does that mean, exactly.”
“He has to treat you well and not yell at you like he yelled at me.”
Jenna’s cat-that-got-the-cream smile had her feeling a teensy bit uncomfortable. “Is that what the two of you talked about in the kitchen?”
“Yep.”
“And you said that to him?”
“Yep. I told him I’d be pis—” Jenna cut herself off. “I’d be angry if anyone does anything to hurt you.”
Yesterday, after Nate and Jenna had talked in the kitchen at his parents’ place, he had assured her everything was “better than okay.” Nate had definitely looked more relaxed, even a little relieved, and she remembered thinking at the time how she would like to have been a fly on the wall for that conversation.
Kristi laughed and gave her daughter a hug. “Have I told you lately what a great kid you are?”
Jenna hugged her back. “Not lately.”
“Well, I’m telling you now. You’re a good kid, and I love you.”
“I love you, too, Mom. And since I’m so great and you love me so much, maybe I should get a new cell phone. Abbie’s getting an iPhone for her birthday.”
“Nice try. You know we can’t afford one.”
“Yeah, well, it was worth a shot.”
Hercules slipped in through the narrow opening in the patio door, skittered across the floor and yipped around Jenna’s ankles.
“Hey, little buddy. Let’s go upstairs. Can I use your laptop, Mom? I want to check email and Facebook.”
“Sure. It’s upstairs in my bedroom.”
Alone again, Kristi took another long look at her handiwork. The three shadow boxes had been so easy to make, and she was sure Nate and the girls would love them. She was uncertain what to use for the background of the fourth box. It would depend on where Nate wanted to hang it. For either the family room or his office at the university, something more neutral would be best. That ruled out the other paper she’d purchased at the craft store. Unless…
She dug her camera out of her bag, took it out of the case and turned it on. She had taken some photographs at the birthday brunch yesterday, promising to email them to Britt as soon as she had a chance to download them. She scrolled through the photographs till she got to the one she’d taken of Nate, Molly and Martha. If she converted it to black-and-white, gave it a washed-out look and had a large enough print made to cover the backboard of the shadow box, it would be perfect.
“Brilliant, even if I do say so myself.”
She would get it ready as soon as Jenna was off the computer. Instead of turning off the camera, though, she studied the photograph. Nate hadn’t dressed up for the occasion, but he hadn’t worn one of his science-geek T-shirts, either. He had attempted to style his hair—she could tell because it smelled so good—but a couple of wavy, finger-tempting strands fell over his forehead as though they had a mind of their own. As always, though, his eyes were what drew her to the photograph, to him. They were honest, intelligent and so, so blue. In this shot, he was looking at his daughters, not the camera, and the intensity of his love for them filled Kristi with longing. As a child she had ached for that kind of fatherly love, and since Jenna was born, she had ached for it on her behalf.
Molly and Martha were adorably cute in their party dresses, and while the loss of their mother at such a young age was heartbreakingly sad, there was no lack of love in their lives.
She clicked the camera off and hastily stuffed it back in her bag.
Get a grip. She’d met Nate less than a week ago, had broken every single one of her rules about setting a good example and not having a man in her life, and now—even though there was absolutely no logic to it—she was falling for this guy.
One thing was certain. Jenna did not need to worry about Nate hurting her mother. If Kristi ended up with a broken heart when this was all over and done with, she would only have herself to blame.
* * *
BY THE END of the week Nate had decided that if anyone ever needed anything done around the home, these were the women to call. More than once Kristi had insisted there should be fewer items in a room, and the things that were there should have more importance. Now, looking around, he could see she was right.
The week had flown by and today the house was a hub of activity, with Kristi putting the final touches on the family room and Sam outside, hammering and sawing and, at that precise moment, running a power tool of some kind. Jenna was here, too, keeping the girls entertained in their newly refurbished bedroom. He should
be doing more to help, but after several years of managing on his own, his home was now overrun with women. There were feminine touches everywhere, and he liked it.
Kristi breezed in the front door with an armload of cushions and he stood there, breathing in her fragrance. He was used to it now, but every once in a while it sneaked up on him and set his senses on fire. He was going to miss that, too. A lot.
“Anything I can do to help?” he asked, not wanting her to disappear just yet.
She stopped. “There is. Two of these cushions, the blue ones, are for the guest room. Can you run them down there for me?”
“Sure.” As he tugged on one, she lost her grip on the entire armload and down the pillows went in a jumble of color and patterned fabric. Together the two of them knelt to retrieve the wayward cushions, but they ended up reaching for the same one. Pulling on it brought them closer together, the cushion caught between them. Kristi was laughing, her eyes more gray than green in this light, and he felt himself free-falling.
The condom incident flashed into his mind, then it was overshadowed by the prospect of kissing her again. The possibility had occupied most of his waking thoughts for the past week, and every dream for as many nights. He just needed to figure out a way to make it happen.
She was within kissing distance right now. All he had to do was lean in a little.
She went quiet and her eyes darkened.
Kiss her.
He wanted to, badly, but the happy voices of children playing down the hall and the sounds of backyard construction drifted into his consciousness, reminding him this was not the right time. One kiss wouldn’t be enough, not now and not ever.
He let go of the cushion, stood and offered her a hand up.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I’ll be right back.” He scooped up the two blue cushions and left her to gather up the others.
Kristi had spent the week working her way from room to room, and she had started by turning the spare room into a guest room after the girls’ belongings and the contents of his office were returned to their rightful places. Not that he ever had overnight guests, but this was meant to show the new owners they could. Or they might fill these rooms with more children. Now that he’d settled things with Alice and the house was looking so good, he was starting to regret his decision to sell it.
Before Kristi arrived on the scene, the bed in the spare room had been buried beneath boxes of Christmas decorations and an assortment of winter coats, and a treadmill had taken up a considerable bit of floor space. Now the room was, in his sister’s words, “a study in beige and white.”
He didn’t know what Kristi wanted to do with the pillows so he tossed them on the bed. On his way back to the family room, he stopped at Molly and Martha’s room. They were sprawled on the floor with Jenna, Gemmy and Hercules, and surrounded by LEGO.
“How’s it going?” he asked.
“Good.” Jenna offered a green brick to Molly. “Is this the kind you’re looking for?”
“Yup.” Molly held up two bricks and snapped them together. “Daddy, we’re building a town.”
Martha, head bent, was intent on choosing pieces for her construction project.
He was glad Kristi had suggested Jenna watch the girls while he helped her get the house organized. Now that school was out, she wanted to keep her daughter busy so she didn’t spend her summer vacation hanging out with boys at the mall. Jenna was great with the girls, and they adored her. Seeing the three blond heads huddled over their LEGO village, it struck him that anyone who saw them like this might think they were sisters. There was a crazy thought. If Molly and Martha had a big sister, that would make him the father of a teenager. Definitely a crazy thought.
He shifted his attention away from the girls and scanned their room. It had been finished earlier this week—Kristi had even sewn curtains for it—and Molly’s and Martha’s furniture had been moved back in. Sam’s closet organizer worked like a charm, and so had Kristi’s suggestion that they replace the mountain of stuffed animals with a few favorites and framed photos of the ones they weren’t keeping. He never would have thought of that, and even if he had, he sure wouldn’t have expected the girls to go along with it.
Kristi’s curtains looked every bit as good as anything from a store. Probably better, but what did he know? They were plain white and the edges were trimmed with purple, pink and green ribbons sewn in horizontal and vertical stripes. The girls loved them, and his sister, Britt, claimed they were magazineworthy. He didn’t know if home stagers normally sewed custom-made curtains for their clients, but he liked that this one did.
Molly and Martha had been reluctant to take down the tent in the family room, but Kristi convinced them to put it away, saying that when the new sofa was delivered, she needed their help arranging the furniture for optimal TV viewing. The tent had then been packed away with the same excitement as when they’d pitched it. Kristi was great with kids, and watching her with his girls was like taking a master class in parenting. And she’d managed to arrange the new sofa so it faced the TV and afforded a view of the patio.
Sam had spent most of the week working outside. She’d brought in a pool maintenance company to clean and fill the pool, treat the water and make sure the pump was in working order. True to her word, she had arranged to have a glass railing installed around the pool. It looked amazing, it was safe for children—his or those of a prospective buyer—and the glass virtually disappeared, leaving a clear sight line to the pool from anywhere in the yard. The place was starting to look more like a magazine spread than his home.
Yesterday he had collected the last set of data from his plants in the greenhouse. Then he had hauled the plants through the garage and out to the driveway, and Sam had been right behind him, stripping away the plastic off the pergola and sanding the wood in preparation for a fresh coat of stain.
The phone rang, and Alice’s number appeared on call display. What now? He didn’t want to answer it, but with so many people around he couldn’t let it just ring until it went to voice mail. He sighed and took the call.
“Nate, how are things going with the house?”
“Good, thanks.” He paused and waited for the other shoe to drop. When Alice called she never got right to the point.
“Is there much more to do?”
“I don’t think so.” He honestly didn’t know, but Kristi definitely seemed to have things well in hand.
“We know you’re busy so Fred and I decided we would help you out by taking the girls off your hands tomorrow night.”
Instead of sounding like an offer, it was more of a demand.
“We’ll pick them up around lunchtime and drop them off sometime Sunday morning before we go golfing.”
He could decline their offer by making up some sort of excuse, but Molly and Martha did enjoy spending time with their grandparents. And having the girls gone for the evening would give him a chance to set something up with Kristi.
“That sounds good, Alice. I’ll have the girls ready to go by noon.”
“Oh.” The surprise in Alice’s voice implied that she had expected him to put up an argument. “All right, then. We’ll be there at noon.”
He set the phone back in its cradle and pondered the possibilities that had just opened up. He could offer to take Kristi out to dinner and a movie. No, that sounded too much like a traditional date, and despite what they wanted everyone else to believe, between them they wer
e still taking the “we’re not really dating” stand.
From the sliding doors in the family room, he surveyed the backyard, watching Kristi and Sam carefully position the patio furniture. Kristi stepped back, shook her head, and they moved a pair of lounge chairs closer to one corner of the pool.
“Much better,” he heard her say. “This is a perfect spot for parents to sit and keep an eye on the children while they’re swimming.”
That’s it, he thought. Dinner here, by the pool. He could barbecue something. Steak? No, better make it burgers. It would just be the two of them but he would keep it casual, make it sound as though it was his way of saying thank you for all the work she’d done.
Kristi had performed nothing short of a miracle. He hadn’t realized that the cluttered and untidy house had been weighing him down, or that cleaning and decluttering would also sweep away some of the grief and much of the guilt that had been pressing in on him. She was walking around the pool, examining her handiwork from every angle, and he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
She looked deceptively sporty in what he’d come to realize was her customary work attire. Trim black exercise pants cropped below the knee and low-cut white sport socks in a pair of canvas sneakers. Today’s were red to match her pullover. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and held in place with a red-and-white scrunchie. No way did she look old enough to be the mother of a fourteen-year-old.
He slid the screen open and stepped out onto the patio. Kristi whirled around, smiled at him and tripped over an ottoman. Sam caught her and laughed, and Nate had a pretty good idea she was laughing at the two of them.
“I’ll just run out to my truck to get the solar patio lights you want to use around the yard,” she said. “If you need anything else moved, maybe Nate can give you a hand.” She winked at him on her way to the house. “You don’t mind, do you?”
He returned the wink. “Not at all. Happy to help.” And more than happy to have a few minutes alone with Kristi. “What would you like me to do?”
