Simon Says Mommy

by Kay Stockham

  Megan rose and walked to the railing where the firelight didn’t reach. A cool breeze blew, bringing with it a combination of her perfume and something uniquely Megan. Watching her, he noticed the slenderness of her body, the delicate way the firelight played over her form.

  Those long hours at work are going to come in handy.

  Because even though Megan drew his interest sexually, he’d do whatever it took to keep Simon laughing, including ignoring his baser needs and his attraction to his beautiful houseguest.

  In the time she’d been here Megan had changed the balance of things. Now he was able to see what was missing, what Simon responded to and liked.

  Reminded of the scene in Simon’s bedroom, a pained grimace pulled at his lips. “Do you know Simon’s been here five weeks now and I never once thought to give him something to sleep with?”

  She stared out at the night, her shoulders lowering a little at the praise. “You’ve had a lot on your mind.”

  He set the tea aside and joined her at the railing, leaning against the banister and gazing up at the blanket of darkness highlighted by the moon’s glow. The air was crisp and cool, a perfect fall night—for a confession? “Megan, I’m out of my element and over my head.” Ethan lowered his elbows to the rail and clasped his hands together, staring off at the tree house at the edge of the yard.

  He glanced at Megan and found her staring at him, watchful, listening. And the urge to kiss her was so powerful he had to look away and force himself to continue. “I planned on coming home from Niger with a fresh perspective, not a child. I figured…I hoped to have a family one day but I was going to do it in order. Marriage, honeymoon, kids. I didn’t plan on having this responsibility until I’d reached a point in my life when I thought I was ready. You’ll probably think it’s a guy thing, but when I made that promise to Isa, I thought it wouldn’t be that hard. Truth is, I didn’t have a clue.”

  “Most parents probably feel that way.”

  How typical that everyone thinks they’re the exception to the rule. “I can see that with newborns crying all the time but Simon isn’t a baby. I assumed so long as he was fed, clothed and watched, things would go smoothly.” He lowered his head and stared at his hands. “I never considered the problems with nightmares, day care and schooling.” The words didn’t come any easier, and he was glad the night covered the heat he could feel gathering in his face. “Simon draws pictures about my lousy cooking.”

  “It was a good picture,” she said with a deadpan expression.

  Ethan smiled wryly, her sense of humor teasing his own to life. He didn’t remember ever smiling as much as he had since she’d arrived. “It was a good picture, but it proved how Simon and I aren’t connecting. You’re the only person Simon’s shown any interest in since he’s been here, Megan. He talks to you when I can’t get two words out of him. I know what Jenn said about you, but I also know everyone makes mistakes, and that kids are great judges of character, especially kids who have been through what Simon has.”

  A flicker of regret crossed her face, quickly followed by another weak smile of thanks. “The stuffed animal wasn’t a big deal. I had one when I was his age, and Simon looked so little in that bed.”

  Surely Megan wouldn’t turn the job offer down? She couldn’t, not when Simon responded to her, smiled more. Jenn would be upset with him. Hell, she’d be furious, but wasn’t Simon’s health more important than hurt feelings over a boyfriend stolen years ago? Family was family. “Then let me put it this way. I’ve called every reputable day care in the area and toured some of the not so great ones. They’re all full.”

  “Ah, so this isn’t about helping me and Jenn but the fact that you’re still desperate for child care?”

  “It’s both. The situation would be to both our advantages. You’d have a job, a home and be in close proximity to the sister you say you want to get to know again.” Okay, so that was low, but some carrots had to be dangled.

  Still, Megan was quiet so long he wondered if she was going to turn him down.

  “How do I know you’re not going to come knocking on my door in the middle of the night for extra benefits to go with the babysitting?” she finally asked with a defiant lift of her chin.

  He thought that over a moment, trying to find it in him to assure her that wasn’t even a thought but unable to do so. “How do I know you won’t be knocking on mine?” he asked instead, giving her a slow smile. “It’s been known to happen.”

  Humor lit her eyes at his teasing, and he saw another glimpse of the spunky, flirtatious girl she’d probably been as a teen. He stared, fascinated, much more than was wise under the circumstances. She was such a combination of vulnerability and fire. And truth be told, he wouldn’t mind if she came knocking.

  “Jenn will throw a fit. She won’t like it.”

  “Nick can handle Jenn. My concern is Simon.” And you. He didn’t want her taking off when he knew she had nowhere to go. People disappeared that way, women especially. And if her sticking around meant keeping his hands off her, he’d resign himself to long, cold showers. It didn’t appeal, but that was a problem he could work out later. “Do you accept?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll do it.”

  He held out his hand and waited until Megan placed her palm in his. Small, soft, the strength of her grip was surprising, but it comforted him and erased his doubts. This was the right decision, the right nanny for Simon.

  The right woman for him?

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  MEGAN NEGLECTED to cover her mouth when she yawned and stared down at the book in front of her. Ethan was the ultimate in sexy doctor and a seemingly nice guy but was this anal, or what?

  After agreeing to take the job, Megan had come inside to watch television and distance herself from tall, dark and sexy, while Ethan had spent the evening on the computer pecking away like a two-fingered geek. She’d thought he was working on all the paperwork he’d brought home, but no. No, Ethan had been putting together a schedule for Simon.

  And you. You’d certainly never keep it straight otherwise.

  The list of classes and instructions was long and tedious. Most were hogwash.

  Simon was to be up, fed and dressed by seven-thirty. The morning was to be spent going over flash—can-we-say-boring?—cards, to teach Simon basic words. Next came scheduled playtime with an emphasis on learning—it was underlined and highlighted. Simon was to pick up all the toys and items used and place them in the organizational bins when they were done—morning snack time, more schooling, lunch, half an hour of educational television such as PBS, Nick Jr. or NOGGIN. Then she was to take Simon to story hour at the library, bring him back home for chores and dinner, then it was on to soccer practice or one of the other sports activities Ethan had enrolled the kid in.

  “Are you kidding me?” Megan stared down at the pages in her hand, one for every day this month, filled from top to bottom, beginning at eight and ending at eight when Simon went to bed.

  She flipped the page, discovering a sticky note was stuck to the bottom of the food plan. A food plan?

  Just do what you can until you’re feeling better. As you can see, most of the classes start in a couple days. ET

  Yeah, well, E.T. phone home and get a clue.

  Simon was booked heavier than a politician the month before election. Was Ethan serious?

  Soccer, swimming, story hour three times a week at the library, two group playdates with a group called Single Siblings that were held at the Y and a karate class, all there in full-color-coded detail. “Un-freaking-believable.” When did the kid get a chance to breathe?

  Megan glared at the pages, reminded of the schedule she’d had growing up and growing angrier with every passing second. Poor Simon!

  She glanced at Simon and noticed the child had finished his toast and juice and was now eating the grapes Ethan had left.

  Yup, there they were. Grapes. Right on schedule. Did Ethan expect Simon to poop on schedule, too? Was that allowed if it was
n’t on the page?

  She snorted. Sexy or not, had the man ever heard of spontaneity?

  She couldn’t blame Ethan entirely, though, if the computer signature at the bottom of the menu was any indication. The list had been put together by a dietician at the hospital where Ethan worked—obviously another anal-retentive person—named Candi.

  Megan muttered under her breath. Really, were all those smiley faces necessary? Like that made prunes for breakfast any easier to stomach? Simon was five, not eighty-five.

  Simon hadn’t liked the half bagel or the cream cheese listed as this morning’s breakfast requirement, but thankfully Ethan had left for work before he’d figured that out. So, she’d fixed the old tried-and-true along with a bowl of Cheerios with a big spoonful of sugar. Hey, at least the kid was eating. Ethan didn’t have to know, right?

  She tossed the pages loaded into a three-ring binder—really, there was such a thing as being too organized—aside and rolled her eyes.

  “Qu’est-ce qu’il y a?”

  “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.” Your father just has issues. “Dr. Ethan says we have to get serious. You went to school in Niger?”

  A small nod was her answer. Okay, so maybe if Simon was used to school this wouldn’t be so bad? “According to this, you have flash cards Dr. Ethan bought for you? Paper with letters and pictures on them?”

  Lowering his head, Simon nodded again.

  Oh, yeah. There was a kid excited about the day.

  Megan shook her head, wondering if Ethan would be testing Simon at the end of the week to see if she’d done any of the stuff on the schedule.

  Sighing, she shoved herself away from the table. “It’s too pretty outside to be stuck in here. How about we take your flash cards out and see if we can find some of the things on them?”

  Simon lifted his head, his eyes sparkling with anticipation, a little grin hovering over his mouth. He liked being outside, the smile proved it. Unbidden, she laughed. He was just too cute. And easy to please. “Come on, sugar. Are you finished with your breakfast? Let’s put these away and find those cards.”

  Simon got up, took his plate and little cup to the sink then walked to a corner of the kitchen. He opened up the pantry doors and inside Megan saw a series of storage containers stacked three high and three across in perfect rows. She stilled at the sight. Those weren’t there two nights ago when she’d gone searching for a snack. When had Ethan done that?

  It’s a quirk. Everybody has quirks. He’s not Sean.

  So why did this feel so strange?

  Because you’re not a neat-freak. This is normal for him.

  Maybe. But Ethan…Was Ethan that way, too? Sean could put on a good show whenever he wanted to. He could be charming and sweet and was the husband to have according to their friends. How much did she really know about Ethan?

  Stop it. That car driving by earlier was nothing. Someguy too egotistical to ask for directions, a real estate agent taking pictures of houses, somebody’s long-lost brother. It was a coincidence, nothing more. Stop making up trouble when there isn’t any.

  The sharp chime of the doorbell sounded, startling her so badly that she gasped, her hand flying to her chest as though it could slow the rapid pace of her heart. “It’s a doorbell, Megs. Sheesh. Get a grip already.”

  The man driving by?

  The chime rang through the house again.

  Megan took a step but hesitated, dread uncoiling in her stomach. Uneasy, Megan indicated silence to Simon by placing a finger to her lips. “Stay here.”

  Simon’s forehead wrinkled in concern, but he nodded his understanding. Megan could tell that her indication to hush had made him worry and she felt bad for that. “It’s okay, sugar. Just stay in the kitchen. I’ll be right back.”

  Megan made her way into the living room and peeked out the window, blinking at the sight of her Buick parked in the drive. Nick’s muscular form took up most of the porch. And low and behold, he was alone.

  Oh, Jenn’s not going to like this.

  Quite frankly she didn’t like it, either. Why was Nick here? Megan unlocked and opened the door but didn’t invite Nick in for propriety’s sake—if only Jenn was here to see that.

  Nick’s eyes were shaded by dark sunglasses but he lifted his chin in greeting. “Feeling better?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” He held up her key ring. “You left the keys in it.”

  “Thank you. That was nice of you.”

  “The tank is full, and I replaced the window, a few belts and added oil. You’re good to go.”

  In other words, hit the road. “That was nice of you. I’ll, um, pay you back when I can.”

  “No need.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Jenn is upset about you being here. I don’t like it.”

  Oh, he didn’t like it? Poor thing! Megan opened her mouth to respond when she heard a noise behind her and saw Simon sneaking out of the kitchen. The boy ran to the recliner and hid, peeking out from behind the leather back like a miniature Rambo. Her heart stuttered in her chest.

  “Simon, it’s okay. Come here, sugar. It’s your uncle Nick.” She waved the reluctant little boy over to her side. “Can you say hello?”

  Nick squatted down and held up his hand for Simon to give him a high five. “How you doing, kiddo? Come on, now, don’t leave me hanging.”

  Catching Nick’s teasing tone and her nod that all was okay even if it wasn’t, Simon gave Jenn’s husband a shy smile and slapped his small hand into Nick’s much larger one.

  “There you go.” Nick rubbed his hand over Simon’s head playfully as he straightened.

  “Um…yeah, so thanks again. I won’t keep you.”

  Nick smirked, still not removing those darn sunglasses so she could see his eyes.

  “You sleepin’ with Ethan?”

  Her mouth dropped open. “No. But even if I was, that’s none of your business—or Jenn’s.” Megan braced her left shoulder and leg behind the edge of the door, although why she bothered she wasn’t sure. Nick was big, imposing and downright frightening when he scowled the way that he was. If he wanted in the house, there was little she could do to stop him.

  Nick’s frown deepened, but he acknowledged her words with a slight nod of his head. “Fine, but I’m telling you now that you’d better not hurt them.” He tilted his head toward Simon. “You’re well enough to leave, even if it’s just to drive to the next town. I’ll give you enough money for food and a hotel for a month. Maybe a little longer if you don’t blow it.”

  The air left her lungs in a rush. She resented Nick’s presence and his opinion of her, not to mention his totally trying to manipulate the situation. “I’m not here to hurt Jenn or anyone else.”

  “You can’t blame us for questioning your motives.”

  Us? Oh, yeah, that family thing. Man, what would it be like to belong to a family like that? Protective, loyal? A bittersweet longing unfurled in her chest, sharp and painful. “No, I suppose I can’t. Still, that’s funny because Jenn’s always said she’s forgiven me but it sure doesn’t seem like it.”

  “You’re smart enough to know forgiveness and trust are two different things.”

  “So that’s why you’ve come to warn me away?”

  “Only if you’re here to hurt her.”

  “Look, I’ll tell you what I told her, okay? What I want is a new start with my sister. I’d like to put the past behind us and move on, but how can we do that when she won’t talk to me? You’re here huffing and puffing in her defense, but where is she?”

  His mouth tightened, and for a moment Megan wondered if she’d hit a sore spot with him. Had he been trying to get Jenn to talk to her? Megan straightened. Could it be true?

  She could feel Nick’s gaze dissecting her from behind his darkly tinted sunglasses, knew he watched to see if she was pulling a fast one. Her heart thudded hard in her chest but she didn’t back down, didn’t blink.

  After a long, tense minute passe
d, the smallest, slightest of smiles tugged at Nick’s hard-looking mouth. “You’re more alike than either of you realize, aren’t you?”

  “Better not let her hear you say that.”

  His smile grew even more and for a second she could see what Jenn liked in Nick, mostly because the grin softened his features and made him look more like the ever doable Ethan.

  Oh, you did not just think that.

  But it was true. Ethan was much nicer looking with his dark hair and gorgeous eyes. She imagined he gave the nurses a thrill just by walking by. And now that she was feeling better, she’d admit to a thrill or two, too.

  Even though it would be a huge mistake to do your boss? Weren’t you the one telling Ethan the ground rules?

  “So you’re prepared to stick it out?”

  Nick’s challenge drew her out of her daze. That’s it? He was going to give her a chance? “I agreed to a job here, didn’t I?”

  Seconds ticked by. “Want some advice?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “Not much. Jenn needs time to see this side of you. You hurt her in a bad way and now you have to prove you won’t do it again.”

  “That’s hardly a news report. How do I do that when she won’t talk to me?”

  He nodded toward Simon. “Don’t screw up this job. Prove you’re responsible. Keep calling her. If you stick it out, Jenn will come around.”

  “But?” She knew there had to be one.

  He finally took off his glasses, his silver-blue eyes intense and direct. “But you have to be here when she’s ready to talk. Screw up, and you prove your sister was right about you all along.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN