by Lisa Carter
“I hit Michaela first, Mrs. Stallings.” Stella lifted her chin. “It was my fault, not Lucy’s.”
Sniffling, Lucy raised her head. “No, Stehwaa... My fawt, too.”
Mrs. Stallings’s lips pursed. “I appreciate your honesty, Stella, but when Michaela hit you, Lucy hit Michaela back.”
“In defense of her sister,” Ethan growled.
Mrs. Stallings’s eyebrow rose.
He pressed his lips together. Although his impulse was to lash out at anyone who dared to hurt them, he needed to remember he was the adult here.
God, I could use a little help in the anger and forgiveness departments.
He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Stallings.”
The principal’s gaze bored first into Stella and then Lucy. “I hope your time away from school this afternoon will cause both of you to reflect on your behavior and on our conversation about how you might have responded differently.”
Glum-faced, the girls nodded.
Mrs. Stallings laid her palm briefly on each girl’s head. “We’ll consider the matter settled. I look forward to seeing you both Monday morning for a new day of happy learning. Thank you for coming, Mr. Green.”
A distraught woman pushed into the office. “My daughter...”
Principal Stallings moved toward the check-in counter. Rising, Ethan set Lucy on her feet. He held out his hand to Stella. Eyes downcast, she slid off the chair and twined her fingers in his.
Once outside the building, he crouched in front of the girls. “No matter what anyone says to you, it is always wrong to hurt other people.” His gaze cut between Lucy and Stella. “Will you promise me that if something like this ever happens again, you’ll tell a teacher? Do you promise you will not hit anyone ever again?”
“I pwomise, Efan.”
His eyes darted to Stella.
“I promise, too.” She bit her lip. “Do we have to tell Mommy what happened at school today?”
“We don’t keep secrets from Mommy,” he said.
Lucy sighed. “But she’ll be so mad.”
Through upswept lashes, Stella gave him a look. “You shouldn’t worry Mommy, Ethan. She needs to study.”
He almost laughed before he caught himself. Clever, clever Stella. Still waters did run deep.
“I’m not going to tell her. You two are going to tell her.”
Their faces fell.
“But I’ll talk to her, too.”
Lucy swiped the tears off her cheek. “Is it t-woo nobody wuvs us, Efan?”
He drew both girls into an embrace. “Of course it’s not true. Your mommy loves you more than anything in the whole world.”
“That’s wight.” Lucy’s head bobbed. “Mommy does wuv us, Stehwaa.”
Stella looked at him. “And Gigi?”
He pulled them closer. “Gigi loves you, too.”
Lucy’s mouth curved. “And Maisie.” She opened her hands. “Maisie wuvs us, Stehwaa.”
He smiled and ticked off additional names on his fingers. “And Callie and Jake. Uncle Matt.”
Lucy tucked her head into his neck.
“And me.” He kissed her hair. “I love you, Lucy.” He locked gazes with her sister. “I love you, Stella.”
Somehow when he wasn’t looking, he’d come to not only care for Amber’s children but also to love them. Not what he’d imagined when he took on the task of twin-sitting. Yet here he was—his heart in the sole custody of these two little girls.
How could he make this painful day better for them?
“Girls...” He cleared his throat, hoping to dislodge the sudden boulder in his throat. “I know I’m not your father...”
How to say this? God, help. Please. “Girls, I’d really like to go to the dance tonight.”
Lucy straightened. Stella frowned.
“And it would make me so happy if you two would come with me so I wouldn’t have to go alone.”
Excitement flared in Lucy’s face. She’d been talking about the dance for days, but the light dimmed in her sky-blue eyes as she searched her sister’s face. “Stehwaa, what do you fink?”
Stella would be the hard sell. Their incredible twin loyalty to each other was one of the things he loved most about them. He held his breath. Lucy probably did, too.
“Okay,” Stella whispered. “Let’s go.”
Lucy broke into clapping. A weight lifted from Ethan’s shoulders. Lasting until Lucy went still and said, “But we don’t have a pwincess dress to wear to the party, Efan.”
And the enormity of what he’d just committed himself to hit him square between the eyes. So he did the only sensible thing he could think to do—he speed-dialed his grandmother.
“Grandma.” He breathed into the phone. “I need your help.”
* * *
It had been one thing after another all day.
First, the busy breakfast crowd segued without pause into a standing-room-only lunch. Then the dishwasher conked out. And a pipe burst.
Her shift ended before Amber had time to check her phone. She discovered the message she’d missed from the principal. One glance at the clock confirmed the school day had ended, and the administration had probably left the office, as well.
Panicked, she called ErmaJean, but no one answered. Rushing out the door, she scrambled into her old car. She practically flew the short distance to the Green bungalow. Getting out, she dashed up the steps.
Leaning on a crutch, ErmaJean met her at the door.
“The girls—”
“Are fine. I didn’t catch the phone earlier. I don’t move as fast as I used to.” ErmaJean stumped toward her chair. “Come in.”
Heartbeat accelerated, Amber stumbled inside. The house smelled of fresh-baked sugar cookies. “Where are they? Are they with Ethan?”
A thump sounded upstairs.
ErmaJean smiled. “No... Not with Ethan.”
“I only just checked my cell. Principal Stallings left a message about what happened at school.”
Leaving the crutch propped against the arm, ErmaJean transferred to her chair. “Ethan picked them up.”
So then where was he? Amber had parked beside ErmaJean’s sedan. Probably swanning about on that dumb motorcycle.
The older woman was getting around much easier of late. But Amber didn’t have time to think about that. Not now. Not when she’d rather be furious with ErmaJean’s grandson.
Of all the irresponsible... Amber planted her hands on her hips.
“So Ethan picked them up from school and then dumped them on you.” She gritted her teeth. “What happened to our arrangement? His promise to take care of the girls while I was at work so you could recover?”
This is what comes from trusting men, Amber fumed. Ethan, in particular.
ErmaJean eased back in the chair. “Ethan has been with them the whole day. Me, too. We actually had a lovely afternoon. He was on the phone earlier, and then he left. He said he needed to take the Harley for a last-minute errand.”
An excited giggle floated from the landing above. Lucy held a floral pink dress against her chest. “Hey, Mommy. Look what Efan bought me and Stehwaa.”
Stella stood behind her sister, a floral lavender dress dragging in her hand.
“What’s going on, Miss ErmaJean?” Amber hissed. “This is how Ethan responds to a serious behavioral issue with the girls? By rewarding them?”
“Mommy. Mommy,” Lucy called. “Awen’t I bee-you-ti-ful?”
Amber glared at the older woman.
ErmaJean shook her head. “Answer your daughter and get the facts before you skyrocket into orbit.”
“Mommy?” Lucy’s voice quavered.
She swallowed her indignation. “You are beautiful, Lucy. Always.”
Lucy grinned. “Stehwaa and me awe going to be
pwincesses at de dance with Efan.”
“Dance? But...but—”
“Sit down, Amber dear, and close your mouth before you attract flies. Girls? Come tell your mommy what happened at school.” She patted Amber’s hand. “Try not to be too hard on them. Ethan had a long talk with them. They are very sorry, and I don’t think it will ever happen again.”
There were tears—not just the girls’—as they explained the events of that morning. Hugging the twins, Amber sent them upstairs to gather their belongings.
“I’d hoped they were still young enough not to be bothered by their lack of a father,” she whispered.
ErmaJean’s face clouded. “The moment they started school, it was inevitable they’d notice other children had fathers but they did not.”
Amber put her head in her hands. “I’ve tried so hard to be everything to them, Miss ErmaJean.”
“Only God can be everything, sweet pea. A lesson I learned early with Ethan. You do what you can, and learn to leave the rest to God.” ErmaJean blew out a breath. “God is faithful. My Ethan in Truelove talking to God again is proof He is more than sufficient when we are insufficient.”
“I pray so, Miss ErmaJean. Oh, how I pray it is so. But about this Sweetheart Dance...” She grimaced.
“The dance is important to the girls. Please let them go with Ethan.” ErmaJean paused as if weighing her words. “It’s important to him, too.”
“But the dresses.” Amber gestured toward the stairs. “They look expensive.”
Miss ErmaJean dipped her chin. “They were. We spent the afternoon at an Asheville department store.”
“Ethan drove the girls an hour away to buy party dresses?”
“I went, too.” ErmaJean’s lips plumped. “He needed fashion advice.”
“Even if I was to allow the girls to go with him to the Sweetheart Dance, I can’t allow them to accept those dresses.” She flushed. “I will not be an object of pity.”
His grandmother’s brow arched. “What Ethan feels for you and the girls is far from pity.”
“What do you— Never mind.” She waved her hand. “I can’t afford those dresses, and I will not be a charity case.”
ErmaJean leaned forward. “Please reconsider, Amber. Let the girls keep the dresses. They are so happy, and it made Ethan happy to buy them for Lucy and Stella. It wasn’t a financial hardship for him. He has a healthy bank account.” Her lips twisted. “Especially after that last no-good girlfriend of his deserted him. Good riddance to her, though. She was never good enough for him.”
“As if you’d think anyone would ever be good enough for him, Miss ErmaJean.”
The older woman’s mouth curved. “I can think of someone good enough for him. Just right, in fact.”
Amber didn’t like the twinkle gleaming in ErmaJean’s eyes. Too late, she remembered she was dealing with a Truelove Matchmaker. Gulping, she decided she wouldn’t touch that with a ten-foot pole.
“I’m sure Lucy wants to go to this dance, but what about Stella?”
As if on cue, her more serious-minded daughter tromped downstairs. School bag slung on her shoulder, Stella also carried a large turquoise bag bearing the name of a regional department store. “We’ll be so pretty, Mommy.”
She smiled, and Amber’s heart sank. She’d had to deny her children so much other children took for granted. And for once, she didn’t have to—thanks to Ethan.
Amber couldn’t find it within herself to refuse them. She wouldn’t allow her pride to get in the way of her daughters’ happiness. “Okay...” She sagged. “Just this once.”
Lucy clambered down the stairs. “Yay!”
“Hooray!” Stella fist-pumped the air.
“Ethan said he’ll pick up the girls at your house at five thirty.” ErmaJean gave Amber a broad smile. “Since it’s Friday night and no classes, you’ll have the evening to yourself for once. Perhaps you can get a jump start on studying for your licensing exam.”
She herded her daughters toward the door. “Maybe so.”
But instead of elation at the prospect of her unaccustomed time off, she envisioned the long evening stretching lonely and empty before her.
A fitting metaphor for her life.
Chapter Eight
At the sound of a vehicle, Amber twitched aside the curtain in the girls’ bedroom. The navy blue truck appeared vaguely familiar, but before she could puzzle it out, she spotted Ethan behind the wheel.
She let the curtain fall in place. “Prince Charming’s here.”
“I look silly.” Stella frowned at herself in the bureau mirror. “Is my hair supposed to look fluffy on the top?”
Amber bit back a sigh. She’d spent the last two hours braiding the girls’ hair into coronets. Now everyone was a critic.
“Where’s my shoe? Where’s my bwacelet?” Lucy hopped around the small bedroom on one foot. “We’re not weady yet!”
A foreshadowing of the adolescent years to come?
Leaving them to their last-minute preparations—who knew four-year-olds had last-minute preparations?—Amber hurried to open the door. She caught Ethan, hand in midair, preparing to knock.
“Oh, hey.” He let his hand fall. “Are the girls ready?”
But she couldn’t take her eyes off him. A perfect fit, the gray suit outlined his broad shoulders and narrow waist. The blue oxford shirt brought out the gold flecks in his hazel eyes. And the lavender-gray striped tie provided a jaunty spring accent.
He pulled at his cuff. “Is it that bad?”
Blinking, she realized she’d taken too long to answer. “Not at all.” To her chagrin, her voice had gone hoarse. “Y-you clean up pretty well.” She cleared her throat.
The understatement of the year.
He smiled, lines crinkling from his eyes. “Some people, present company in particular, don’t have to clean up to be pretty.”
Blushing, she reminded herself to breathe. “Th-thank you, Ethan.” She played with her earring, wishing she’d changed out of her usual jeans. “You are as charming as ever.”
His brow creased. “I’m not trying to be charming. I just wish you could see yourself—”
“You’re early.”
Why was her heart thumping so?
“Better early than late.” He gave her an enigmatic grin. “Who says leopards can’t change their spots?”
She put her hand to her throat. That almost sounded as if he were talking about her and him. About them. But there had never been a them.
Amber bit her lip. Nor was there any likelihood there ever would be. He’s leaving in a month. She needed to keep telling herself that until she quieted the treacherous yearnings Ethan Green seemed to bring out in her.
“We’re weady!”
Amber winced. Ethan laughed.
“Lucy doesn’t seem able to speak in any decibel lower than a foghorn. If you’re ready,” Amber called over her shoulder, “don’t keep Ethan waiting, girls.”
Stella stepped past her mother and onto the front porch. “Lucy says for y’all to pay attention.”
Amber and Ethan exchanged amused glances.
She shook her head. “Such a drama queen.”
He smiled. “Lucy is her perfectly delightful self. And I wouldn’t have her any other way.”
Amber wouldn’t, either, but she was pleased he could see through the brash impetuousness to her daughter’s sweet, kind heart. Not many people did. Not many people took the time, but Ethan had.
Throwing her arms wide, Lucy flung herself onto the porch. “Ta-da!”
Moving to the step below, he immediately dropped to one knee. “Oh, you beautiful girls,” he sang in a pleasing but rusty baritone. “You great big beautiful girls.”
It was a variation of an old song Amber’s dad used to sing to her mom.
Ethan placed his han
d on his chest. “Let me put my arms around you... I could never live without you...”
Lucy struck a pose.
Amber rolled her eyes. “She’s not the only ham.”
“Oh, you beautiful girls.” He opened his hands. “You great big beautiful girls...”
Amber’s lips curved. “Careful you don’t set the wildlife howling.”
Ethan ignored her. “If you ever leave me how my heart will ache. I want to hug you.” He angled to include Stella. “But I fear you’d break.”
Stella scowled, dimming some of the enthusiasm in his eyes, but he rallied.
“Oh, oh, oh.” Getting to his feet, he reached into a large bag he’d stashed beside the railing and removed two plastic boxes. “Oh, you beautiful girls.” Finishing with a flourish, he took a bow, holding the containers out to the girls.
Lucy came down a few steps and took one of the boxes from him. “What is it?”
Amber’s breath hitched. “You bought each of them a corsage, Ethan?” Moisture welled in her eyes.
“A wrist corsage. Thought it would be easier for them to wear.” When Stella made no move to come forward, he handed Amber the other box.
He helped Lucy remove the diminuitive cluster of pink sweetheart roses, baby’s breath and purple statice from the box.
“It’s so pwitty,” Lucy breathed, clapping her hands to her face. “Is it for me?”
“For you.” He gave Amber an uncertain smile. Very un-Ethan-like. “I hope that was okay. Every princess should have flowers when she goes to the ball, right?”
Unable to speak, she nodded.
He helped Lucy slip the elastic band over her tiny wrist.
“Wook at me, Mommy.” Lucy waved her arm in the air. “I’m a weal pwincess now. Thank you, thank you, Efan.”
“You’re welcome, Lucy Lou.” He looked at Amber. “Maybe you should help Stella.”
His thoughtfulness in trying to make the evening special for her daughters nearly undid Amber. With trembling fingers, she took out Stella’s corsage.
“The flowers match their dresses.” He shuffled his feet on the step. “Pink and purple. For the pink and purple princesses.”
