“I get lots of practice, and I babysat when I was in high school. You should see Autumn. She’s as good or better at this than I am.” Emily picked up Isabelle and patted her on her freshly diapered bottom.
The way Emily naturally responded to her daughter as if it were second nature tugged at Anne’s heartstrings. She’d never had a chance to babysit, except for Reenie. She and her parents had moved around so much, and when they did settle in somewhere, her parents put the neighbors off with their incessant arguing. So, no one ever asked her to watch their children.
“You work at the campground with Drew?” Emily’s use of we when she’d referred to the campers seemed to say so. “For some reason, I thought you were a graphic artist.”
“I am. Do you mind holding her while I clean up here?” Without waiting for an answer, Emily handed off Isabelle to Anne.
She held her stiffly, arms extended for a moment before cradling the infant against her as Emily had. Isabelle burrowed her little face into Anne’s shoulder, and Anne relaxed, breathing in the soothing smells of baby powder and lotion.
Emily disposed of the diaper, used a baby wipe to clean her hands and the changing table and tossed the wipe in the wastebasket. “That takes care of that.”
At the sound of her mother’s voice, Isabelle squirmed and began to fuss, clutching at Anne’s blouse with her tiny hands. She patted the baby’s back and her fussing turned into a full-fledge cry. Helplessness filled Anne.
“Come here.” Emily lifted her daughter from Anne’s arms. “Is that any way to treat our company?”
Isabelle’s cry subsided to a wimper.
“She’s hungry. Do you mind?” Emily grabbed a receiving blanket from the compartment under the changing table and motioned to two matching rocking chairs next to the window.
“No, of course not. But I can go if you’d like some privacy.”
“Oh, no. Stay.” Emily sat in one of the rocking chairs and settled Isabelle in. “I get plenty of privacy. Summer camp may be over but Drew still has a lot of planning to do for next year, and the conference center has events year-round. He may work at home, but that doesn’t mean we see him any more often than if his office were in town instead of downstairs. What I could use is some company, girl company.”
“Okay.” Anne joined her in the other rocking chair.
“You asked me about my work.”
Work. Anne was much more comfortable with that subject. She leaned back against the chair’s wooden back.
“I’m not a camp employee. Dad and Drew are the only ones who work for the coalition of churches that sponsors the camp. Dad handles maintenance. The rest of us just hang around and help with whatever.”
“It’s nice that you can depend on each other like that.” The only thing Anne could depend on from her parents was criticism of her and each other.
Emily shrugged, jostling Isabelle, who made a small protest before resuming her nursing. “Neal and I grew up helping Mom and Dad with the campground. Back then, we rented sites to families and other vacationers, along with the three big cabins we still rent out. I can’t say that I was a joyful helper. I wasn’t much of an outdoor kid.”
“I’ve never been camping, but I went to Y camp one summer.” Anne tamped down the conflicting memories of the great time she’d had and her disappointment the next summer when her parents, in a rare moment of solidarity, had decided her summers would be better spent in more educational summer programs. “I suppose being a camper is a lot different than keeping up a campground, and I know how it is when parents think you should like things you don’t.”
“No, I was a brat. Neal loved working at the campground, so I thought he should do it all. My parents had other ideas like teaching me responsibility, respect and a strong work ethic—things I appreciate now and am planning to do with my kids. And, somehow, despite not getting my way and spending summers sitting on the deck sketching, I was still able to become a graphic artist.”
“Kids, plural?” As an only child who’d often wished for siblings, Anne warmed more toward Emily. Because of career demands, many of Anne’s collegues were choosing to have only one child. “You and Drew plan on having more?”
“God willing. Of course, Drew would like to have a boy.”
“Men. Wouldn’t they all.” Anne suspected that one of the reasons Michael had kept putting off their having children was because he already had the two boys from his first marriage.
“Not all of them. Neal insists that Autumn is enough for him. Sometimes I think he’s serious, which would be a shame. He’s a great dad, and I’m not saying that because he’s my brother. You’ve met Autumn.”
Anne laughed. “You could be a little prejudiced there, too.” But she wasn’t. From what Anne had seen and heard about Autumn at NCCC, she was an admirable young woman. And Neal’s love for and pride in his daughter were evident to all. It wasn’t hard for Anne to imagine him raising another child, to picture a miniature version of Neal, shadowing him, trying to do everything just like Dad.
Emily resettled her now-sleeping daughter. “I think the right woman could change his mind.” She looked directly at Anne.
Her throat clogged. Emily couldn’t mean her. She couldn’t convince a husband who insisted that he wanted children with her when the time was right to commit to having a child. How could she be the woman to convince Neal, who professed to not want any more children? She glanced down at the sleeping Isabelle. And Neal’s children would be beautiful. Autumn was.
Footsteps sounded on the pine plank flooring outside Isabelle’s nursery, followed by a knock. Anne shook off her nonsensical thoughts of her and Neal and children as the door opened wide.
* * *
“Talking about me again, Jinx?”
“And what would make you think that, aside from an inflated ego?”
“As soon as you heard me coming—silence.” He really hadn’t thought they were talking about him. He’d just wanted to burst in on his sister. But the pink tinge on Anne’s cheeks said they had been. He grinned in reaction while he waited for his sister’s comeback.
“How would we have known it was you?”
“You certainly must know Drew’s footsteps, Mom would have been quieter and Dad would have sent Mom.” He crossed his arms and waited for Em’s retort.
“While all true, I hate to break this to you, but you’re not the center of everyone’s attention.”
“Then, you weren’t talking about me?”
Emily smoothed Isabelle’s baby fuzz back from her forehead. “What’s brought you to our humble presence?”
Neal glanced from his sister to Anne and secretly gloated. They had been taking about him. If they hadn’t Emily would have said so. She wouldn’t come out and lie about it, so she’d evaded the question. And he wasn’t going to lie to himself. He wouldn’t mind being the center of Anne’s attention. She was a beautiful, talented woman.
“We thought we’d go get soft-serve ice cream.”
“What’s the occasion?” Emily asked.
“You have to have an occasion to have soft-serve?” Anne asked.
“It’s a family thing.”
Emily might have missed the light fading in Anne’s eyes, but Neal didn’t.
She dropped her gaze to her wristwatch. “It’s going on seven-thirty. I should get going. I have papers to grade tonight.”
“Emily doesn’t mean it’s for family only,” Neal added.
“Of course not.” Emily backed him up. “I only meant that we go out for soft-serve ice cream to celebrate family occasions.” She raised her hand in front of her. “Don’t tell me. Autumn and Jack have been acting funny. Are they—”
“Don’t even think it. They aren’t engaged.” He had trouble keeping the outrage he felt out of his voice. “She’s only nineteen and not done with
college yet.” And he certainly wasn’t ready to have his only child truly be an adult yet. Not by a long shot.
Emily countered him. “And how did you know that’s what I was going to say?”
He made himself relax. Emily always challenged him. She always had. “Great minds and all that. And I’ve noticed them acting funny, too.”
Emily turned to Anne as if she’d just noticed the other woman was still there. “Sorry about all the family talk.”
“No need to apologize.” The way she held her fists clenched in her lap was in direct contrast to the almost bemused expression on her face.
It hit him. She thought he and Emily were arguing or an argument was going to break out. He hadn’t been around her family much as a teen, but knew they had a different and more volatile relationship than the God-based one he and his family had.
“What we’re celebrating is...” His voice sounded more like an over-eager TV game show host than the upbeat tone he wanted.
“Give me one more guess. Your return to college. We haven’t celebrated that yet.”
Neal studied the knot in the pine plank in front of his right foot. The jury was still out on whether that was any cause to celebrate, except maybe for his work study with Green Spaces, and he wasn’t one hundred percent sure about that. Things could be tense with Anne supervising him.
“No.”
Anne flinched. He hadn’t realized he’d raised his voice. He stepped toward her to touch her shoulder in reassurance, but stopped when he saw the speculative look on his sister’s face. Anne seemed fine now. Maybe he imagined the flinch. No sense giving Emily anything to fuel the matchmaking tendency she’d developed since she and Drew had gotten together. She was possibly worse than his mother, who’d been encouraging him to date for years.
He dropped his raised hand. “What we’re celebrating, dear sister, is the arrival of Isabelle.”
“Oh.” She beamed. “That is something to celebrate.”
As if to give her approval, Isabelle woke up, stretched and favored her uncle with a big drooly smile.
Neal melted. And by the goofy grin on Anne’s face, the effect was universal. No denying his niece was a cutie. He thought she looked a lot like Autumn in that smushy-faced newborn way.
“It’s settled, then. Everyone else is ready when you are.”
“I’ll check her to see if she needs another change and be right out. Anne?”
Anne touched her lips with her finger. “No, it’s a family outing. I was only going to come in and drop off the gift, and I’ve already stayed for dinner.”
Emily stood and lifted Isabelle to her shoulder. “We’d be more than happy to have you come.”
Anne lifted her gaze to Neal. He stepped back. “Yeah, we’d like you to come.”
“No, but thank you. I have those papers waiting at home.”
Emily glared at him.
What had he done? He’d invited Anne just like he’d invited her for coffee the other day at the hospital. She’d declined then and she’d declined now. And, when he thought about it, like Anne had said, it was a family occasion. Anne and everyone else would get to celebrate with them at Isabelle’s baptism.
“I’ll go say bye to your folks.”
“If you insist,” Emily said. “Thanks again for the gift. Will we see you Sunday at church?”
“You’re welcome, and you might. I want to visit your church again before I make a decision.” Anne turned toward the door.
“I’ll walk you out.”
“No need.” She stepped into the living room.
“What?” he asked as soon as Anne was out of earshot and before his sister could reprimand him.
“If you don’t know, my telling you won’t help.”
Emily was real helpful. But he was afraid he did know. It had something to do with Anne not being family but him wanting her to come with them anyway. And he was fairly sure that the reason behind that feeling was one of those answers to his prayers that he didn’t want to hear.
Chapter Seven
Anne studied her reflection in the bedroom mirror. Despite their prewashed finish, her jeans shouted brand-new, and the pale blue hoodie that had looked so cute and casual on the rack at the mall in Queensbury last Saturday looked too cute and not casual enough today. She should have picked up a real sweatshirt at the Paradox Lake General Store. Fieldwork was business. It didn’t call for cute. She tore off the hoodie and tossed it on the bed. Maybe her long-sleeved T-shirt would be enough. But the early frost glistening on the grass outside her window cancelled that idea.
What was wrong with her? She’d done hundreds of site inspections before without going through any clothing trauma. But not site inspections with Neal Hazard, a little voice in her head pointed out. She hated when her little voice was right. Dinner at the Hazards’ last Friday and the feelings dredged up by her after-dinner conversation with Emily had set her on edge the whole week.
She’d gone to services at a church in Schroon Lake, rather than the Hazardtown Community Church as she’d planned, telling herself it was because she needed to visit all of the churches on her list before going back to any of the ones she’d already visited, not to avoid Neal and his family. The minute she’d walked in the other church she’d realized she didn’t belong there. She was fighting God’s will again, staying away from the one church in the area she’d found a spiritual connection to because...why? Because the Hazards were a happy family and she wanted to be a part of that but couldn’t be?
Anne yanked the hoodie back on. She wasn’t that lost little girl anymore. She was a successful woman. A business owner. A college professor. She zipped up the sweatshirt. The head of a college program. Someone who was in control of her life. The breath she’d been holding whooshed out. And the woman who’d studiously avoided Neal and his daughter at the college all week.
But not today. Anne glanced at her alarm clock. In twenty minutes, she was meeting Neal at the birthing center site to conduct a solar site analysis. Correct that. To show him how to conduct an analysis, as his instructor. She spun away from the mirror and went downstairs to collect her equipment.
* * *
Neal grabbed a travel mug of coffee on his way through the kitchen and slammed a top on it. He had fifteen minutes to make the twenty-five-minute drive to Ticonderoga to meet Anne. He should have known he didn’t have time to pound out his outline for his English composition class this morning. But he’d been dead tired when he’d gotten home from the not-so-quick-as-he’d-expected wiring inspection he’d scheduled for yesterday evening.
The job hadn’t passed his inspection, and he’d felt badly for the young couple who were finishing the second floor of their house themselves. They needed a second bedroom for the imminent arrival of their first child. Neal had stayed and showed them what needed to be done to bring the wiring up to code and scheduled another inspection for next week. No way he had the energy to tackle his homework after he’d gotten home.
His cell phone rang as he reached for the door handle of his pickup. His breath caught. Anne calling to cancel? He hadn’t seen her all week, wondered if she was purposely avoiding him because he’d somehow driven her off, according to Emily, with his invitation to go for ice cream. But Anne was too professional for that and had confirmed they were on for this morning when he’d emailed her on Tuesday. He fumbled in his pocket for his phone, popping the top off the mug and almost giving himself a coffee shower when he hit it against the truck door.
It wasn’t Anne. It was Autumn. “Hi, what’s up?” he asked.
“My car won’t start, and I’m supposed to be at the medical center for my clinical shift at ten. It’s probably the battery again. Can you come over and give me a jump? Jule had an early class today, and Jack’s out on a tow job on the Northway. I can’t be late.” Her words tumbled out in a lo
ng breathless stream.
“I’ll be right there.”
“Thanks. What would I do without you? Bye.”
Neal whistled as he checked the tool chest in the bed of his truck to make sure he had jumper cables. The bright morning sun reflected off the silver bed lining. It was good to know Autumn still needed him, even if it was only occasionally and happened to be an inconvenience today.
Before he put his phone away, he tried Anne’s number to tell her he’d be late. His call went right to her voice mail. She was probably in one of the many local dead zones. He left a voice message and a text message for good measure.
Autumn was pacing her driveway when he arrived. He pulled his truck up to face her car and got out.
“I backed in last night in case I needed a jump this morning. I’ve been having so much trouble with it.”
“Could be you need a new battery,” he couldn’t stop himself from pointing out.
She sighed. “That’s what Jack said, too. But I was waiting until I got paid tomorrow at the nursing home so I wouldn’t have to hit you up for the money.”
He dropped his arm around her shoulders. “I appreciate that, but you have a long drive to the hospital for your classes. Your car needs to be working. So, let’s see what I can do. Open the hood. I’ll get my jumper cables.”
Neal fastened the cables to the battery in Autumn’s car and his truck battery and turned the truck on. “All set. Hop in and give it a try.”
Autumn climbed in her car and turned the key. It responded with one grinding whine and then just clicked.
“Shut it off.” Neal turned the truck off, checked the cables and turned it on again. “Give it another try.”
Autumn turned the key and all she got was more clicks.
“Stop. It’s dead.”
“But I have to get to the hospital.”
He unfastened the cable from the truck and the car and removed the car battery. “You can use the pickup.”
“Thanks, Dad. You’re the best.” She scrambled from the car and gave him a hug. “I’d better call in. By the time I drive you home and back, I’ll be late.”
Small-Town Dad Page 7
