It Takes Three

by Teresa Southwick

Joyce tapped her lip. “You know, Thea, when we talked about what you were looking for in a home, I thought about this house.”

  “Really?” Scott said. “Even though I hadn’t decided to sell?”

  “You indicated to Bernie and me that when Kendra was finished with high school, you were going to downsize. Isn’t she graduating in a couple of months?”

  Thea stared at him. “So Kendra’s right? Her teddy bears and Barbies aren’t even cold yet and you’re kicking them out?”

  “She’s blowing things out of proportion,” he said.

  “Clearly she thinks you’re trying to get rid of her.” Thea couldn’t resist making him squirm a little. Scott Matthews had walked in and treated her like a breaking and entering suspect. Maybe his daughter’s issues with him weren’t just the rumblings of teenage independence.

  “She’s wrong. It’s not getting rid of her when she’s going to college. What do I need with this big place?” he defended.

  With one eyebrow raised, Joyce looked from Thea to Scott and back again. “Am I interrupting something?”

  “No.” Scott blew out a breath as he ran his fingers through his hair.

  Thea folded her arms over her chest. “She was only reacting to the information that you’re going to sell her childhood home out from under her.”

  “I’m not selling anything yet,” he said. “I’m simply gathering information.”

  “And let’s do that,” Joyce said brightly. Obviously she was grateful for the excuse to change the subject. “Thea, since you’re here, why don’t you tag along on the tour.”

  “If Scott doesn’t mind.” She looked at him and his expression said he minded very much.

  “Why not?” His enthusiasm was underwhelming.

  “Great.” Thea didn’t care what he thought. She’d been dying to see the floor plan. Already she’d fallen in love with the kitchen. The downstairs was charming, and she was curious about the rest of the house.

  She turned off the stove, then followed Joyce who was just behind Scott as he led them upstairs. Peeking around the other woman, Thea got a glimpse of his broad back narrowing to a trim waist and one fine backside. She hadn’t noticed men in general, or any man in particular since she’d fallen in love with David. He’d been the love of her life and she’d lost him. Odd that the first man to make her female antenna quiver was a man who was annoyed with her.

  “This is the master bedroom,” he said, leading them into the room at the top of the stairs. “It goes across the back half of the house. There are his and hers walk-in closets. Double sinks and a Jacuzzi tub.”

  Thea fixated on the large bed because it didn’t dwarf the floor space. Not because its owner was a big man who needed a big bed. The completely innocent thought warmed her cheeks and she forced herself to focus on his words.

  “Over there, two steps down, is an area for a parent’s retreat.” He looked questioningly at Thea.

  Was he asking if she needed a parent’s retreat? Whether he was or not, she wasn’t in the habit of sharing personal information, let alone her house needs, with total strangers, even above-average-looking total strangers. So the silence stretched between them.

  “I haven’t seen this floor plan for a long time. It’s a nice room, Scott,” Joyce said, filling the void. “Very large and comfortable.”

  Beside the master bedroom was an open loft area with a huge corner group and a big-screen TV across from it. Built-in desks were under the windows and one of them was cluttered with books and papers next to a computer. Obviously this was Kendra’s work space. Her perfect older sister didn’t live here any more.

  Joyce looked around and took notes. “Teen rooms are popular, a good selling point.”

  “There’s more this way,” Scott said.

  They peeked into the two bedrooms—one with the double bed neatly made, the other in a state of complete chaos. Obviously Kendra’s. Thea didn’t know why, but her heart went out to the teen who seemed to feel she didn’t measure up.

  Scott looked sheepish. “I had no idea her room was this bad.”

  “Teenagers.” Joyce shrugged. “It goes with the territory.”

  Thea met his gaze and wondered. Shouldn’t a parent have some idea about his child’s environment? They lived in the same house, for goodness’ sake.

  “Brace yourself.” He opened the bathroom door and stepped back. “I’m afraid to look.”

  Thea followed Joyce past him and breathed in the pleasant scent of cologne and man. Her stomach fluttered, but she chalked it up to the fact that it had been a long time since she’d experienced that particular scent. Ignoring him took some effort, but she managed to focus on the separate shower and tub area.

  The vanity had two sinks and was littered with bottles of hair products and combs and brushes of various sizes and shapes. A curling iron, blow-dryer and makeup were scattered over every square inch of counter space. It seemed a million years since her biggest concern had been her hair. But she was grateful for those carefree days before she knew that life—and death—could bring her to her knees.

  Sighing, she let her gaze wander. She saw flannel pajama bottoms and a coordinating top in a pile beside the overflowing wastebasket.

  Scott was watching her and noticed the direction of her gaze. He hastily grabbed the handles of the trash bag, pulling it out of the container. “Sorry. I had no idea this bathroom was located in tornado alley.”

  Joyce arched an eyebrow. “I’ve seen much worse, believe me. This is nothing.”

  “Easy for you to say,” he said, shutting the door. “I think it qualifies for federal disaster assistance.”

  Thea brought up the rear as they went downstairs. Was there a Mrs. Matthews? The interaction between him and his daughter gave her the impression there wasn’t. The niggling sense of excitement in that thought brought her up short because it was so very unexpected.

  In the kitchen, he set the bag of trash beside the tall circular metal container. “So there you have it,” he said to Joyce.

  She nodded. “This house will go fast on today’s market.”

  “In spite of the biohazard bathroom?”

  Thea laughed. Until his comments about Kendra’s disaster of a bathroom, she’d thought the man had no sense of humor. She liked it.

  “Forget it, Scott,” Joyce said. “If you decide to list the place, you’ll have time to clean it up.”

  “That will be Kendra’s job,” he said.

  “Good luck getting her cooperation,” Thea mumbled.

  Joyce glanced at the two of them. “I gather she’s resistant to moving?”

  “She’ll come around,” he claimed.

  “Of course she will.” Joyce looked at her watch. “I’ve got to run to another appointment.”

  “So what do you think the place is worth?” he asked.

  “Scott, you know as well as I do it’s a gold mine. This neighborhood is one of the most desirable in Santa Clarita. Houses sell as soon as they go on the market. There’s a waiting list. You can easily get top dollar.”

  “What kind of top dollar are we talking?”

  “Let me do some comparables and I’ll let you know,” she said. She looked at Thea. “I’ll call you about listing your condo.”

  Thea nodded. After Joyce was gone, she was alone with Scott Matthews. For some reason he made her nervous, and not because he was annoyed with her. It had started after her assumption that he wasn’t married.

  “I guess I should be going, too,” she said.

  “Yeah.”

  She looked at the food she’d brought from a luncheon and reheated here for Kendra. It didn’t seem right to walk away from the dirty dishes, so she moved several pots and pans to the sink and squirted soap from the container there into them.

  “Just leave that,” he said.

  “Can’t. Part of my job. A professional doesn’t leave a mess in the kitchen.”

  “Even though you don’t have a contract?”

  “Even so. It’s a se
rvice-oriented, word-of-mouth business. Someone you know might need a caterer and you’ll remember the one who didn’t leave a mess.”

  While she worked, Thea glanced at Scott who brooded beside her. “Kendra told me she’s never had a party. Is that true?”

  He met her gaze and his own narrowed. “It doesn’t mean she’s underprivileged.”

  “I can see that she’s got everything she needs. Materially,” she added.

  “What are you saying?”

  “Just that I got the feeling it was very important to her to have a party.”

  “What was your first clue, Dr. Phil?”

  She ignored his sarcasm. “The fact that she didn’t tell you I was coming. I’d have to guess she felt you would veto the catering idea.”

  “She didn’t give me a chance to veto it.”

  “And if she had? What would you have said?” Thea asked, watching him carefully.

  He sighed. “Probably I’d have said no.”

  “Look…” She rested her wrists inside the sink, letting the water drip from her hands. “Probably I should have asked if she had permission to hire me. And when it came to a signed contract and deposit check, the cat would have been out of the bag. But there’s something about Kendra.”

  “Why didn’t she come to me? That’s a rhetorical question by the way.” He shook his head, then met her gaze. “And I don’t understand why she’s so upset about selling the house. It’s just a house.” His tone oozed frustration.

  “Men.” Thea stared at him, not bothering to conceal her exasperation.

  “What?”

  His clueless express was so darn cute, she couldn’t help a small sigh. “How long have you lived here?”

  He thought for a moment and said, “I guess ten or eleven years.”

  “So Kendra was about seven or eight when you moved in. She hardly remembers living anywhere else. She’s facing big changes, like leaving high school and going away to college. Then she finds out you’re getting rid of her anchor. Of course she freaked. Change is hard.”

  “I haven’t gotten rid of anything yet.”

  “Just the thought of change is uncomfortable. It’s human nature to fight against that.”

  Scott shifted his feet and brushed against the bag of trash on the floor. It tilted sideways, spilling the contents. “Damn it.”

  He bent to pick up the bag, giving her an unobstructed view of his backside. She was the first to admit she was out of practice in the fine art of observing men. And truthfully, she’d never understood the fascination for that particular part of the male anatomy. But Scott Matthews’ fanny gave her a completely different perspective.

  He straightened, pressed the latch on the kitchen can and dumped the smaller bag inside. Then he stooped again to gather up the stray trash on the tile. He picked up a slender plastic stick.

  Frowning, he rolled it between his fingers. “Is this what I think it is?”

  She saw the plus and minus symbols. “It is if you think it’s a pregnancy test.”

  She should know. She’d used one not that long ago and hers had come up a plus.

  Chapter Two

  “Just shoot me now.” A muscle jumped in Scott’s lean cheek and tension made his already square jaw seem harder somehow. “Does this mean it’s negative?”

  Thea stared at the minus sign. “Not necessarily. The results are only accurate for a short time. There’s no way to know if it’s positive or negative unless you know how long it’s been lying around.”

  His expression was dark when he looked up. “I feel as if I’ve been walking down the stairs and just missed the last three steps.”

  She wiped her hands on a dish towel. “Don’t jump to conclusions.”

  Impossibly blue eyes narrowed on her. “What are you? Twenty-seven? Twenty-eight?”

  “Thirty-four.” But what did that have to do with anything?

  “Married? Divorced?”

  “Neither,” she answered. “I’m a widow.”

  Something flickered in his eyes, but she was grateful when he didn’t comment. The automatic “I’m sorry” was awkward and meaningless. She wasn’t even sure why she’d clarified her marital status to him. Normally she didn’t volunteer anything like that. But nothing about today was normal.

  “Do you have any children?” he asked, exasperation lacing his tone.

  Not yet, although she would soon. God willing. But this man was grilling her like raw hamburger. She’d innocently gotten caught up in his personal problems; that didn’t mean she had to reciprocate with her own problems. When her husband had received his cancer diagnosis, she’d learned the very hard lesson that personal information should be dispensed on a need-to-know basis. Scott was a prospective client. Maybe not, she thought, noting his intense expression. But whatever happened, he wasn’t entitled to her life story.

  And she certainly wasn’t going to tell this man, this virtual stranger, that she was now pregnant through in vitro fertilization with her dead husband’s baby. She couldn’t ignore the question, but there was no need to put a finer point on it.

  “No,” she finally said. “I don’t have any children.”

  He slid her an I-thought-so look. “Then don’t tell me not to jump to conclusions.”

  “I was simply trying to help.”

  “There’s nothing you can do. This,” he said, holding up the stick, “means she’s having sex. Probably unprotected.”

  “I’m not an idiot, Scott. I know this is a serious issue.”

  “Really?” He put the test stick on the counter beside him, then met her gaze. “You know it intellectually? Or because you’ve watched Oprah and Dr. Phil? Or you’ve seen the teenage pregnancy statistics in Newsweek?”

  “Of course, but—”

  “But you don’t have children. You have no idea what it’s like to be nineteen and find out you’re going to be a father. You don’t have a clue what it’s like to be a kid yourself and find out you’re going to have a baby.”

  “No, but—”

  “I do,” he interrupted. “It’s damned scary. And everyone has an opinion about what should happen. My parents. Her parents. On top of that, she and I couldn’t agree on what to do.”

  “What did you do?” Thea couldn’t stop herself from asking. Just because she had a hang-up about sharing nonessential personal information didn’t mean she wasn’t curious about him. If he had a problem with it, he could tell her to mind her own business.

  “I married her,” he answered.

  “Most people would call that doing the right thing.”

  “The right thing?” His handsome features turned harsh.

  “No one could call your daughter ugly names or tease her about being born outside of marriage.”

  “Yeah, at least I prevented that.” He smiled, but there was no humor in the look.

  “And it can’t have been all bad. You had a second child together.”

  He folded his arms over his chest. “Kendra wasn’t planned. We were still too young and, I thought, perfectly happy with one child. Then we were careless. I was all of twenty-two when she came along.”

  Thea thought about her own struggle to become a mother. Ever since she was a little girl, she’d wanted to have a baby. When she’d married, she’d ached to know what it was like to feel a life growing inside her. She felt it now, mostly because she was tired and nauseous. The point was, she felt different, important. After the heartbreak of two miscarriages, she yearned to bring a healthy baby into the world and would do everything possible to make that happen. Now Scott was telling her his second child wasn’t welcome.

  She didn’t try to hide the irritation and disapproval she suspected were visible on her face. “Some people would say having two children makes you lucky.”

  “I am. And very grateful they’re normal, healthy kids. I love them more than anything. But the fact is I missed out on a lot. I hardly got to be a kid before I had two in two and a half years.”

  “But isn’t it
the tough times that forge the bonds in a relationship?”

  “Not ours. That second pregnancy was the straw that broke the camel’s back.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When Gail was seven and Kendra five, she decided the girls and I were cramping her style. She didn’t want to be a mother and she left.”

  “She abandoned her children?”

  “Define abandoned. Every once in a while she turns up. It was worse when they were little and all their emotions were stirred up. Now the girls have her pegged. They’re polite but cool if she drops in.”

  “It must have hurt them a lot.”

  “They’re better off without her.” He shrugged. “They got over it.”

  Did they? And were they really better off without her? Thea wondered. Through no fault of their own or Scott’s, Kendra and her sister hadn’t been raised by Ward and June Cleaver. And Thea sensed ripples beneath the surface in the Matthews household. Sensed, heck. She’d seen for herself the tension between Scott and his daughter. Kendra was still hurting.

  “Were you better off when your wife left?” she asked him. Again she wondered if he would answer. In his shoes, she wouldn’t. But everything she’d just learned had her curiosity sparring with her better judgment.

  He sighed. “That’s not an easy question to answer. It was tough doing it alone. I still had to work to put food on the table and a roof over our heads. But I had two little girls depending on me when they got sick. Child care was a constant worry. And it’s expensive. There was no one to share the responsibility.”

  That gave Thea a pang. Her plan of having a baby had always included sharing the experience with her baby’s father. And the plan had always involved sex with said father. She’d never envisioned that the love of her life would get sick. That he would simply donate sperm and medical science would take care of the rest. She was having a baby. And she would be doing it alone. But in her case, she would never know what having help and support felt like, so she wouldn’t feel the absence of it. But Scott had known.

  “Did you miss her? Or was it just parenting alone that was a problem? I’m sorry,” she said, before he could answer. She held up her hand. “That’s really none of my business.”