Uncle Sarge

by Bonnie Gardner

  Caitlyn looked puzzled as if she didn’t understand. “Uncle Witch is new,” she said gravely. “My daddy went to heaven, so now I gots a new uncle.”

  Jennifer didn’t know how to respond to that. Did the child really believe that Rich had been sent as a daddy substitute? She looked down at the tiny girl, and decided it wasn’t such a bad thing for a little girl to believe. If it gave her comfort, why not? “How do you like your new uncle?” she asked for lack of anything else to say.

  “He’s okay. But he isn’t my daddy.”

  Wow! How did she respond to that?

  “Jen’fer.”

  “Yes?” She had to get it together. Didn’t kids need constant attention?

  “Are you getting married wif my Uncle Witch?”

  That one hit her like a speeding bus. Jennifer’s head spun as the thought bounced around like it had a life of its own. But, no. She’d already tried life married to a man’s man. It wasn’t for her.

  She shook her head. “No, sweetie, I’m just a friend.”

  “Oh. Aunt Rebecca’s getting married tomorrow.”

  It sounded so simple when Caitlyn put it that way, but was it simple? Already, she could see it was not.

  Jennifer turned away from the counter. The best thing she could do now was to help Rich settle the kids. Then she’d worry about what came next.

  IT WAS SURPRISING how easy it was to settle two kids when two people were doing the settling. Rich stood outside his bedroom door and watched as Jennifer tucked Caitlyn in. Carter had already settled down to sleep with the comfort of his thumb, and Rich had high hopes that he’d stay down for the count.

  It was only about eight-thirty but it seemed like midnight. If this was the way things were all the time, he had greatly underestimated the amount of work that mothers put in every day. And once she was back on her feet, Sherry would have to do it alone.

  He thought about the brother-in-law he’d never met and wondered if he’d helped, or had he been one of those hands-off dads like his father had been? Rich hoped not. Then he shrugged. It didn’t matter. The man was gone. Nothing would change that. And if he had been hands off, at least, Sherry would be used to doing it all.

  Jennifer tiptoed out of the bedroom and switched off the overhead light. Caitlyn murmured something about being afraid of the dark, but Jennifer reassured her. “It’s all right, sweetie. We’ll leave the door open and the light from the living room will shine in. Uncle Rich and I will be in the next room.”

  That must have satisfied her, because Caitlyn snuggled in and made no further protests.

  Jennifer put a finger to her lips. “Come on. Let’s let them settle down. The last thing we want to do is wake them up again.”

  “Roger that,” Rich agreed as he stepped away from the door. He felt something in his stomach. A tightness, a clenching that he didn’t recognize. Had it been so long since he’d had a meal? No, it hadn’t been that long since he’d wolfed down that sandwich. Then he remembered the spaghetti sauce that had smelled so good. Was it the sauce or the maker that had him so intrigued?

  “How long will it take to finish up that spaghetti?” he asked, wondering if he’d just been rude. He wasn’t sure he was that hungry, but he had to do something to keep Jennifer from packing up and going home.

  “I can have it on the table in about fifteen minutes,” Jennifer said, her eyes still fixed on the tiny figure curled up in the big bed. “Do you think you’ll be able to last that long?”

  “I will if you will,” Rich said, wondering if his desire to keep Jennifer there had more to do with the curves he could only guess about and less to do with the two munchkins finally sleeping in the next room.

  NOT FOR the first time, Jennifer wondered what she was doing—first in Rich’s apartment helping with the kids, and now in his kitchen dishing up spaghetti with her secret-recipe sauce. Rich’s body seemed so huge, and now that the kids were sleeping, she was all too aware of how attractive he really was.

  Jennifer stirred the sauce and waited for the water for the noodles to come to a boil. She lifted the spoon to her mouth to test the sauce, but Rich stepped up beside her, and Jennifer offered the taste to him. He accepted, and she caught her breath as he closed his hand over hers and guided the spoon to his mouth. Her knees almost turned to jelly as he closed his lips over the spoon and tasted. The water wasn’t the only thing starting to boil.

  She grabbed for the package of noodles and gauged the right amount in the circle of her thumb and forefinger. “Just let me get this into the water,” she said, noting the breathlessness in her voice. Had Rich noticed?

  “I can’t wait,” he said, his voice sounding as husky as hers. “I’ll just set the table and stay out of your way. Maybe, that way you can get it ready faster.”

  On one hand, Jennifer was relieved the distraction was gone. On the other, she already missed the way Rich filled the room. Without him, the kitchen seemed larger, emptier.

  She shook her head. Stop thinking this way, she told herself firmly. This is a one-time-only deal. You’re helping the man out. That’s all. Once you’ve eaten dinner, you’ll pack up your stuff and go home. End of story.

  RICH HELPED Jennifer carry the dishes from the table and stash them in the dishwasher. Dinner had been strained, the conversation limited to Sherry, the kids and the weather, but he was sorry it was over. He couldn’t explain it, but he had enjoyed having Jennifer there. Not just because she’d helped him with the kids, but because…He didn’t know why. He just liked the way he felt when he was around her.

  Jennifer stood at the sink, watching as it filled and foamed with bubbles around the saucepan and pot she’d used to cook with. Rich wanted to go over and lift that luxurious, long hair off her neck and press his lips to the curve where it met her shoulder, but he didn’t.

  He didn’t know why he wanted to. Didn’t know what to make of these new sensations churning in his chest. He wished he could name it. Indigestion? Not likely. Still, it was a feeling he couldn’t name.

  She wasn’t the kind of woman he was used to being around. He knew goal-oriented military women, and he knew good-time, party girls. He didn’t know what to do with a woman like Jennifer.

  “When is Rebecca coming to pick up the kids?” Jennifer asked suddenly.

  “She’s not. I have to bring them back with me.”

  Jennifer stopped, her hand poised in midair as she started to place the pot on the drainboard and turned to face him. “Do you have another vehicle besides the truck?”

  Not certain he understood the point of the question, Rich looked at her. “No. Why?”

  “You can’t take those kids in that truck.”

  “Sure, I can,” he said. He’d already worked it out. “I’ll put all their stuff in the back, Caitlyn on the seat, and Carter on my lap.”

  Jennifer turned off the water and stared at him. “I…don’t…think…so.” She enunciated each word very clearly as if English were not his first language.

  “Sure I can.” What the hell was going on here? Who was she to tell him what to do with his niece and nephew?

  “You have no idea, do you?” she said, staring at him, her face a study in consternation.

  “What?” He was beginning to be annoyed here. She was looking at him like he’d suddenly grown horns, or a tail. He resisted the urge to reach back and feel for one.

  “They have to be in their car seats. By law, I think. And I think I heard something that says you should never put children in the front.” Jennifer searched her brain for the reasons. “Something about being thrown through the windshield in case of an accident,” she said, turning the water back on. “Or the air bags blowing up in their faces.”

  “I’m not going to have an accident.”

  “You don’t know that. Even if you don’t have an accident, you could get a ticket for not having the kids properly restrained.”

  “What do you expect me to do? I can’t leave them here. I promised Sherry I’d be at the wedding.
It’s her first trip out since the accident. She hasn’t seen her kids in a month.”

  “Well,” Jennifer said. “You’ll have to find a car that has a back seat where you can install their car seats.”

  Rich looked at her for a moment, then inspiration struck. He’d seen Jennifer’s car. “You have a car with room for the seats. Go with me,” he said.

  “No,” she answered much too quickly and shook her head for emphasis.

  “Yes,” he insisted. “It’s the perfect answer. Rebecca said I could bring a date. I’ll bring you.”

  Jennifer slumped. Every time she thought her business with Rich Larsen was over and done with, he would say or do something to drag her in deeper. He already had her drawn in, hook, line and sinker, and now he wanted her to go to this wedding.

  “Rich, I don’t know any of those people. Why would they want you to bring me?” she protested. What she was really doing was looking for an excuse to accept.

  His expression was needy, earnest. “They wouldn’t know anybody I’d bring. I hadn’t invited anybody, so it might as well be you.”

  That was a backhanded compliment, but Jennifer got his point. And she couldn’t let him transport the kids in the dangerous way he’d proposed. “All right,” she found herself saying. “I’ll go with you. But only to make sure the kids arrive safely.” She wondered who she was trying to convince. Rich? Or herself?

  “Yesss!” Rich cheered, pulling her into his arms in an exuberant hug. “You won’t be sorry,” he insisted, though Jennifer already sensed with a strong feeling of doom that she would be sorry. “It’s a date.”

  No, it isn’t, Jennifer told herself in no uncertain terms. She’s just doing her good deed for the day. The month. The year. The millennium.

  Rich swooped in for a quick kiss, and Jennifer’s heart leapt as she wrapped her hands around the back of his neck. She reveled in the sensation of his lips on hers, his strong, firm body pressed so close against her. If it had been like this with Duke, maybe she’d have hung in there.

  Who was she kidding? Just because the man was a good kisser, it didn’t follow that he would have anymore staying power than Duke.

  She pushed herself out of Rich’s arms, and out of reach. Drawing a deep, ragged breath, she tried to ignore the heat, the tingle, where his lips had ravaged hers. “So,” she said slowly, all the time knowing she was making a huge mistake, “what time do you want me to pick you and the kids up tomorrow?”

  Chapter Five

  Still wondering why she was doing this, Jennifer arrived at Rich’s place at ten-thirty the next morning. She knew she was early for a one o’clock wedding, but something told her that her help would be necessary.

  She was right. Jennifer could hear Caitlyn wailing before she even had a chance to knock on the door. She rang the bell and waited. And waited.

  She rang again, and knocked for good measure.

  Finally, a harassed-looking Rich, with Carter on his arm, yanked the door open.

  At least, this time, Rich had his shirt on.

  Behind Rich, Caitlyn, wearing only her underwear, stood crying. “What’s wrong, honey?” she said, brushing past Rich and stooping in front of the distressed little girl.

  Caitlyn’s lower lip trembled as she tried to explain. “He won’t…He won’t…” A racking sob interrupted. “Uncle Witch won’t let me wear my weddy dwess.”

  Jennifer shot a questioning glance at Rich.

  He shrugged. “I tried to get her to put on that, and she went ballistic.” He pointed to a pastel pink jumper and white blouse. “Insisted she had to wear her ‘weddy dress.’” He pointed to a ruffled, buttercup-yellow dress encased in a plastic garment bag that had been draped over a chair. “I didn’t want to let her wear that in case she spilled something on it. It seems like an awful nice dress to put on a little girl.”

  Jennifer looked at the frothy concoction, then looked at Caitlyn. “Are you supposed to wear that dress to the wedding?” she asked carefully.

  Caitlyn nodded, still sniffing.

  “Are you supposed to be part of the wedding party?”

  Caitlyn looked puzzled. “I din’t know about no party,” she sniffed. “I’m supposed to frow the flowers,” she said.

  “You’re going to be the flower girl?” Jennifer asked, suddenly understanding.

  Caitlyn nodded, her small face broadening with a smile. “Yes, I’m posed to frow the flowers for Aunt Webecca to walk on.”

  Jennifer smiled reassuringly at the upset child. “I think your Uncle Rich didn’t know that. But, that’s okay. I’ll straighten him out.” She glanced pointedly at Rich.

  He shrugged and gestured with one hand, the other still encumbered by Carter, and said, “I give up. You know, it would help if somebody would tell a guy these things.”

  Jennifer stood and took Caitlyn’s hand. “Caitlyn is going to be the flower girl. Her special dress probably matches the rest of the bridal party’s gowns.” She looked down at Caitlyn. “Uncle Rich meant well, but he didn’t understand. Now that we’ve got him all straightened out, I’ll help you get ready. You are going to be the prettiest flower girl in the whole wedding party.”

  Caitlyn smiled at that. “You’re silly, Jen’fer. I’m gonna be the onliest flower girl in the weddy party.”

  Jennifer shot a glance over her shoulder as she took the plastic-encased dress and led Caitlyn to the bedroom. “You’re in charge of Carter. I’m going to go and make Caitlyn beautiful.”

  Rich didn’t say anything for a moment, then shook his head. “I don’t suppose Carter is going to be best baby or anything, is he? I didn’t see a pint-size tux anywhere.”

  “Uncle Witch, you’re so funny. Carter’s just a baby. He’s gonna just watch,” Caitlyn said.

  “I knew that.”

  Jennifer suppressed a smile. “Uncle Rich was just making a joke, Caitlyn. He knows Carter can’t be the best man.” She sneaked a glance over her shoulder as she took Caitlyn to dress. She didn’t know about the rest of the wedding party, but she’d bet that the best man was standing there holding one small, red-haired baby.

  IT TOOK Jennifer no time at all to wash Caitlyn’s face and help her into the yellow dress. It was a little girl’s dream, full of flounces and ruffles, made of crisp organza. A long, satin sash went around Caitlyn’s chubby middle and tied in a huge bow in the back. It was the kind of dress little girls got to wear to parties a long time ago, but that most modern girls had never seen except in picture books. No wonder Caitlyn had been so heartbroken when Rich had told her she couldn’t wear it.

  Jennifer stood back and looked her up and down. Dressed in the delicate little gown, she looked like a princess. “There you are, Caitlyn. You look beautiful,” she said as she made a quick adjustment to Caitlyn’s carroty curls.

  Caitlyn looked down at herself, then up at Jennifer. She grinned broadly. “I feel like a fairy pwincess,” she said, her voice filled with awe.

  “You look like one, too, sweetie. Let’s show Uncle Rich.”

  “Okay,” Caitlyn said, all smiles.

  Jennifer pushed open the door and announced, “I would like to introduce Miss Caitlyn Connolly.”

  Caitlyn stepped through the door and pirouetted, letting her full skirt swirl around her.

  Rich let out an appropriate wolf whistle. “Wow. I’ll have to fight all the boys off with a stick.”

  “Why?” Caitlyn said, looking confused.

  “Never mind, honey. You’ll understand when you’re older.” Jennifer looked at Rich. He was still wearing his jeans and white T-shirt. Carter was dressed and looked cute as a button in a pair of navy shorts with suspenders and a tiny red bow tie attached to the front of his white cotton shirt.

  “Here let me take him,” Jennifer said, holding her hands out for Carter. “If you don’t hurry, we’ll be late.” She checked her watch. “It’s already eleven-fifteen. We should probably leave in fifteen minutes to be sure we have enough time.”

  “It only takes an
hour to get to Pensacola,” Rich said, handing Carter over.

  “Do you know how long it takes to get to the church?”

  Rich shook his head. “No.”

  “Then we need extra time to navigate.” Jennifer jiggled Carter, who’d started to fuss. “Go on. We have to get this show on the road or we’ll be late.” She glanced at Caitlyn. “Can’t start the wedding without the flower girl.”

  “Yeah, I suppose,” Rich said. Jennifer probably had a point about leaving early. The church could be on the far side of town, and neither of them had been there before. He wondered if there were directions in that miracle diaper bag. So far, every time he’d needed something, he’d found it in the magic bag.

  “Look in the diaper bag and see if Rebecca thought to put in directions to the church or a map or something while I dress.” He turned without waiting to see if Jennifer complied.

  He’d already showered and shaved, so all he had to do was put on his mess dress uniform. He’d wondered whether he’d have many occasions to wear it when he’d bought it for his graduation from Noncommissioned Officer Leadership School, but he was glad he had. At least he wouldn’t have to go out and rent a tuxedo. He’d feel out of place, as it was, in that church full of strangers.

  Rich removed the dry-cleaning bag from his blue, formal dress suit and hooked the hanger over the closet door. He had to pin on his decorations, but that would only take a few seconds.

  Medals attached and positioned, Rich stood back and checked from a distance. He probably could get away with them not being regulation straight. Nobody at the wedding would likely know, but he would. They were fine, but might need some adjusting when he put the jacket on.

  He quickly slipped into the white, pleated dress shirt and fastened the studs and cuff links. He didn’t know why the pleats were necessary, seemed a little froufrou to him, but they were part of the uniform.

  He reached for the black bow tie. He should have bought a clip-on, he thought as he drew in a deep breath and pulled it around his neck. He started the knot. Though his fingers seemed clumsy and thick, he managed to tie an acceptable bow.