"Careful on the steps," he said, taking her arm.
She was just about to smile up at him to thank him for his consideration of her when the massive front door swung open.
"Daddy!" three little girls chorused, rushing to hug Doug around the legs. "You're home!"
CHAPTER THREE
Doug laughed as he shooed his little girls inside. "Let's get Ms. Blake inside before the rain washes her away, okay, kids? And I'm only home long enough to see what you want. Then Suzanne and I are going out to dinner. All right?"
Three pairs of blue eyes stared up at Suzanne. She stared back, almost unable to get her breath. The children were dressed in mismatched sweats, and their short hair couldn't be called styled. They bore matching frowns of reluctance for her presence, which reminded Suzanne to try to recover her own smile.
The girls were not duped into returning it.
"Suzanne, I'd like you to meet Edie, Fran and Kimmie. They're four, and you may notice that I'm indulging their desire to be independent."
She glanced at him, her eyebrows lifted in question.
"They insist upon dressing themselves." He shrugged, clearly approving of their actions. "The look may not be what GapKids intended, but..."
Suzanne looked from him, to the children. "Hello, Edie, Fran and Kimmie," she said, hoping she'd matched the right name with the right girl.
They said nothing, merely clinging to their father's legs all the more intensely.
"Maybe not so independent tonight," he murmured. "Now, who was the smart one who sent a message to my pager? I feel certain Mrs. Hubert didn't send me an urgent note that said, "Daddy, come home now."
He smiled at a middle-aged woman who had been waiting for the greetings to finish before she stepped in to usher the girls into the kitchen. Suzanne had been so surprised she hadn't noticed her.
"Mrs. Hubert, this is Suzanne Blake. Suzanne, our family's daytime help and lifesaver, Maxine Hubert."
"It's nice to meet you, Suzanne," Mrs. Hubert said warmly. "My apologies, Dr. McKay," Mrs. Hubert continued after she'd shaken Suzanne's hand. "I didn't realize the girls had hit the speed dial to the answering service while I was in the kitchen getting their dinner. I am so sorry." She looked at Suzanne, appropriately apologetic. "The girls are wonderful, but they do require a constant eye."
A constant eye. She was willing to bet those words were a total understatement.
Doug had seen many expressions on his patients' faces: joy, sorrow, worry, despair, hope. The only word for the expression on Suzanne's face was...alarm.
Bringing her here was obviously a mistake. But the fact was, he'd felt bad about not telling her immediately about the girls. She'd mentioned not wanting children, and he had accepted that warning sign, leaving their lunch that day at once.
But then she'd brought the scarf, and he'd admitted to himself that he wanted to see Suzanne again. He had planned to tell her over dinner, especially if he sensed the attraction he felt for her was returned. Honesty was the only way to build anything between two people.
When his little imps had figured out a way to get a message through his answering service, he'd known they were in no danger.
But he'd realized that it was the perfect opportunity to check on them, and be upfront with Suzanne.
"Please have a seat here, Suzanne," Mrs. Hubert said, clearly more mindful of good manners than he was. She seated her in front of a gas-log fireplace, and Suzanne seemed to sink onto the sofa with relief.
He took an armchair beside the sofa, allowing the girls to pile into his lap to stare at Suzanne. "What's for dinner, anyway, girls?"
"Mrs. Hubert says we're having grilled cheese sandwiches," Fran told him. "And tomato soup."
Suzanne perked up like she'd finally found sure footing. "That's my favorite, too."
"Really?" he asked, certain she was only being polite.
"Absolutely. With lots of margarine on the bread. And I put Parmesan on top of my soup."
He thought about that for a moment, and the girls looked up at him, puzzled. "Parmesan?"
Suzanne nodded. "It's delicious."
"It doesn't sound like it. But we should always try everything, right, girls?"
"Mmm-hmm." But they didn't look any more convinced than he was.
Suzanne lowered her gaze for a moment, then stared at the fire. He saw her sigh, though he couldn't hear it.
"Doug, is there a possibility that you could let Mrs. Hubert go for the evening?"
He blinked. "Why?"
She shrugged. "It's raining, and far more pleasant right here. I love grilled cheese, and am willing to bet that I have far more experience making them than she does."
"Not possible."
Suzanne smiled at him. "Trust me on this."
"I'd rather take you out to dinner. I promised you and—"
"Oh, Daddy!" Edie cried. "Stay home with us!"
He looked at the three hopeful faces staring up at him, back to Suzanne's rather more cautious one. "Are you absolutely certain? It doesn't seem very chivalrous."
"I'm positive." She slid off her coat and jacket, which Mrs. Hubert quickly retrieved to hang.
"Mrs. Hubert, would you like an earlier evening than you thought you were getting?" Doug asked.
"I must admit that the rain's got me worried," she said, looking at Suzanne with some unease. "The temperature's dropping, and they're calling for icing tonight, maybe even some light snow. It does have me a bit nervous."
"All right. You go on, and we'll make do on our own tonight."
"Thank you, Dr. McKay. It was nice to meet you, Suzanne."
"You, too." Suzanne managed a smile for the housekeeper, less stiff than the one she'd given the girls.
Well, Suzanne had a right to be shell-shocked. He would be if she'd sprung three kids on him. "What do you think about a glass of wine to go with that sandwich?"
"That would be lovely. Thank you."
"White or zinfandel?"
"Zinfandel, please."
Nodding, he headed to the bar.
Edie, Fran, and Kimmie remained on the sofa, checking Suzanne out. They huddled together, a slightly resentful, unsure cluster of big eyes and tangled blond mops. Reading their eyes, Suzanne realized that she wasn't the only one who had been taken by surprise. When the girls had paged their father, they clearly expected for him to return alone.
She couldn't blame them, as she had begun to enjoy having Doug to herself. It was time to break the ice. “When my sister was little, she used to like for me to brush her hair. Does anybody want me to brush their hair and maybe put some clips in it?"
Three solemn faces went side to side in the negative.
Suzanne cleared her throat. "I could tell you a story."
Silence.
She shouldn't be hesitant with children. Unconsciously, Suzanne frowned. She'd been a good substitute mother figure for Tom and Diane; her siblings had many times mentioned that they'd been fortunate in everything she'd done for them.
Of course, the difference was that Tom and Diane had been older than these children, in their early teens. Her unofficial job had mainly been keeping the house together, maintaining schedules, getting food to the table - whatever she could to help Mrs. Dee, the housekeeper and cook, out as much as possible. She felt responsible for her younger siblings.
Doug returned, and gratefully Suzanne took the glass of wine he offered. "Shall we move to the kitchen? Are you hungry, Suzanne?"
She wasn't, but the light in the girls' eyes indicated that they were ready to eat sooner rather than later. "I'm ready if you are."
The girls needed no further prodding. They scrambled off the sofa and scurried from the room.
"If you survive tonight and still want to at another time, I insist upon taking you out to a nice restaurant. I promise you it wasn't my intention to pay back your kindness with tomato soup."
She smiled, feeling easier with the situation. "I didn't need to be repaid, Doug. And as a word of warni
ng, I have been known to burn the occasional sandwich. You may get to spring for a delivery pizza if this doesn't go well."
He stood, grinning. "The pressure is on. Your audience awaits." He gestured to her to precede him from the room, and guided her down to the kitchen.
Edie, Fran and Kimmie were atop bar stools, elbows on the granite countertop where they had clear view of the stove. "I think I can handle the pressure," Suzanne murmured for Doug alone to hear. "Just watch me turn your hungry little crew into docile angels."
Picking up an apron Mrs. Hubert had left on the counter in her hurry to get a start on the approaching weather, Suzanne covered her skirt and blouse. Doug tied the apron behind her, his fingers sure at her back. Unexpected fluttering began in her blood all over again.
The girls watched, clearly anxious to see if Suzanne could produce decent fare.
"How can I assist you?" Doug asked.
"By getting out the soup, the skillet and pot you want me to use, and pouring whatever the girls want to drink. Think you can handle that, Doctor?"
He grinned at her. "I think so."
"Paper plates and bowls as well."
He lifted a brow. "Paper?"
"Would you rather wash dishes or watch any snowfall we might have with your daughters?"
The girls, listening to this exchange, rounded their eyes and quickly glanced out the bank of windows in the kitchen.
"Daddy, I have to use the bathroom," Edie piped up.
"So do I," Kimmie said.
"And that makes me think it would be worthwhile for all of us to take a bathroom break. Can you find your way around the kitchen while we wash up, Suzanne?"
"I believe so." She smiled at him, but inside, she was apprehensive.
She could grill a mean cheese sandwich, but the truth was, she was out of her league here. What did she know about young children?
The best thing to do would be to gracefully enjoy the evening - and then truthfully tell Doug that he wouldn't need to take her out to a fancy restaurant after all.
It wouldn't be fair to him. Because if she knew anything about herself, it was that she didn't want to be a mother figure again. These children would need a lot of time and attention. She needed silence to create, not distractions. Her job kept her busy even on holidays and weekends.
To become attached to Doug, and to his girls - or worse, to allow them to develop an attachment to her - wouldn't be fair to any of them.
Doug admired the way Suzanne satisfied his young ladies' craving for grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup - even if he sensed her hesitance around them. "I should bathe you, but I'm letting you off the hook tonight," he told them. "One night surely can't make a difference."
Suzanne shook her head. "If we have snow by the time they awaken in the morning, they might need a bath after playing in it since they'll most likely get hot and sweaty in their heavy clothing."
"Oh, I doubt Mrs. Hubert will want them playing in the snow," he said quietly, as the girls stared out the window into the darkness. "She's a sweet soul, but not much for playing in the snow."
"Well, speaking of weather conditions, I'd better let you put your girls to bed and get home myself."
“Can I put them to bed and then talk you into a nightcap in front of the fireplace?"
She hesitated for a fraction of a second. “The offer is tempting, but if I don't go, you may end up with an extra houseguest if the roads get bad enough." She looked thoughtful for a moment, then removed her apron. "I'd better call a cab, as a matter of fact."
The phone rang, and he reached to get it. "Excuse me," he told Suzanne. "Hello?"
Listening for a few moments, he said, "I understand. Thank you for calling." He hung up and looked at the girls. "That was Mrs. Hubert, kids. She said the roads are already icing up around her neighborhood, and she isn't going to come tomorrow. You'll have to go to Grandma's."
"Yay!"
He grinned at their delighted shrieks.
"I'm fortunate Mom lives so close by. She can't keep them all the time, but she spells Mrs. Hubert whenever necessary. Anyway, if I take you over there tonight, girls, I can also take you home," he said, nodding to Suzanne.
"Oh, no, that's not necessary. Truly," she protested.
"I want to. This kills two birds with one stone, anyway. Excuse me while I call Mom."
The arrangements were swiftly made. Doug turned to Suzanne. "This time, we travel in the minivan. My wife liked it for hauling the girls and all their stuff around."
"Safer, I'm sure, on slick roads."
Suzanne went to get her jacket and coat. Doug watched as she left the room, realizing that despite the fact that she was being a very good sport, she was sending him no warm signals that indicated she wanted to see him again.
He admitted to a tiny sting of hurt, irrational though it might be, that Suzanne might be ruling him out as date-companion material because of his children. They were his life, all he had left from a marriage that had been very good for him, and for which he still grieved in a deep part of his heart. As much as he thought there was something magical that might blossom between him and Suzanne, he would never continue a relationship with a woman who wasn't going to feel comfortable with his girls.
Doug sighed. If it wasn't meant to be, it wasn't meant to be. As a doctor, he'd have to advise himself to accept the other person's limits - and move on.
Francine McKay was delighted to see her grandchildren, and even more sincerely thrilled to meet Suzanne. "Come in, come in, all of you!" she exclaimed, ushering them into a warm parlor off the kitchen. "You must all be frozen."
Doug kissed his mother on the cheek. "The car was warm, Mom. Let me introduce Suzanne Blake to you. Suzanne, my mom, Francine."
Suzanne liked Francine on sight, and was charmed by her cozy cottage not fifteen minutes away from Doug's house. She could see many multicolored packages under a tall Christmas tree, no doubt most of which were for Fran, Edie and Kimmie. The ornaments on the tree appeared handmade - she suspected the work of the same grandchildren. It was clear that Francine adored the girls, and they'd quickly returned the affection before rushing to check for their names on the packages under the tree.
"Hot chocolate, Suzanne?" Francine asked.
Suzanne glanced at Doug, who appeared to wait for her answer to judge whether he needed to remove his coat or not. With a smile, he shrugged at her and went to unzip the girls' parkas, allowing Suzanne to make her own decision.
"The weather is bad enough, I know, so I shouldn't try to detain you," Francine said. "But I would love to spend a moment with you, Suzanne. It seems rude to send you off into the night without a cup of cocoa."
Suzanne smiled at her, captivated. "I can't refuse such a kind offer. I'd love some. Thank you."
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Doug smiling at her approvingly. For some reason, his approval warmed her like the cup of cocoa Francine pressed into her hand.
"I'm sure I should be careful not to make some motherly gaffe," Francine said. "But Doug doesn't often bring anyone home to meet me."
Suzanne looked at Doug, feeling guilty. Except for the side trip to bring his daughters here, she would never have met Mrs. McKay. She was worried that perhaps Francine read more into her presence than was appropriate and might be getting her hopes up.
"I was just on my way to take Suzanne home, as a matter of fact," he said mildly. "Mrs. Hubert called as we were getting ready to call it a night."
"Oh. I see." Francine seemed to draw her own conclusion about that. “Well, now that I've got the girls, there's certainly no reason to cut your evening short," she said brightly.
"Suzanne has to work tomorrow, as do I." He stood. "Girls, let me help you brush your teeth so I can kiss you good-night and tuck you into bed."
"We can brush our teeth ourselves, Daddy," Edie assured him.
"We're celebrating Independence Day at Christmastime," he told his mom dryly.
"I thought I recognized that by the hai
rstyles. Goodness, girls, you're going to have to humor Grandma and let me brush that hair. Excuse me, Suzanne, but if you don't mind, I'm going to see what I can do with these wildflowers of Doug's. It was a pleasure to meet you."
Suzanne smiled at her. “Thank you, Francine. It was a pleasure to meet you as well."
"Well, come on, little wildflowers. In my day, I didn't go to bed until I'd brushed my hair a hundred strokes." Suzanne could hear her tell the girls this as they left the room.
"I'll be there to kiss you good-night in a minute," Doug called after them. Slowly, he turned to look at Suzanne.
"A little more than you bargained for tonight?"
"It's all right. I didn't mind."
A moment of silence passed between them. "I'd better go check on them and kiss the girls good-night. I'll be right back."
Suzanne nodded, watching as Doug walked from the parlor. He was tall, broad-shouldered. Smart. Kind. Gentle.
Probably a woman's dream come true.
She regretted that it wasn't hers. The fact was, Fran, Edie and Kimmie needed - and deserved - a lot of time and attention which she simply didn't have to give.
But they were cute, in their tousled, trying-to-be-independent ways.
Idly, she picked up a pen from the counter, and began to draw on a paper napkin three little girls holding hands. The girls danced in a horizontal line, more stick figure than real, emoting togetherness in their dance. She interspersed hearts and wildflowers among them; a spring motif. "Mother's Day," she murmured, the idea for a new design coming to life before her eyes.
"Feeling inspired?" Doug asked, his baritone voice soft as he looked over her shoulder.
She jumped. She was used to silence when she drew - and she never showed anyone her work until it was ready to go to board, not even Jimmy, though he constantly harassed her for a peek.
Maitland Maternity Christmas Page 3
