by Elsie Davis
Garrett got up to get a washcloth to wipe her face and hands. By the time he returned, she’d grabbed an entire handful from the plate he’d left sitting on her tray. The two older kids giggled. Terrific.
The last thing he wanted was orange tomato sauce all over his suit. He reached forward to grab one of Sandy’s hands and held it out of the way. He reached for a wipe and cleaned up her face. Success. Now all he needed to do was wipe her hands. He reached for her free hand, but just as he did, she reached for his tie. Garrett pulled free, only to discover bright sauce all over his silk tie.
His dry cleaner would have a fit. As far as he was concerned, the tie was ruined and belonged in the trash. He reached up and removed it, handing it to Sandy to play with to distract her while he got her cleaned up. After removing her plate, he wiped her tray and finished cleaning her hands.
“Who wants one of April’s sugar cookies she baked and left for us?”
“Me,” both kids hollered.
“Her cookies rock,” Bryan added.
Sandy pulled on his shirt sleeve and pointed at the cookies.
“Here you are. One for each of you. Why don’t you take them in the living room and let me clean up the mess?” That is, he’d take care of it after he ate a plate of cold spaghetti.
“You don’t have to tell us twice.” Bryan smiled. It was a fleeting reaction, but a smile, nonetheless. A victory in his book. The kids took off down the hall, Sandy not far behind them.
Garrett rolled up his sleeves and started to clean up the kitchen. He rinsed the dishes and loaded the dishwasher, the same way he’d done a million times. Dishes were a chore he and his sister shared. He might not have had to cook, but there had always been chores to be done.
He’d almost finished wiping off the table when he felt a tug on his pants. Sandy had wandered into the kitchen, her thumb stuck in her mouth.
“What’s going on, little one? Do you need anything?” Sandy hadn’t spoken a thing since he’d been there, but April had already explained the problem, so he wasn’t expecting an answer.
Sandy pointed at a purple cup on the counter.
Another type of communication, but one he understood. She wanted a drink. “Do you want water?”
She shook her head.
“Milk?”
She nodded.
And just like that, they had a two-way conversation going.
He poured milk in the cup. “Can you handle this, or do you need me to hold it for you?”
She held up her chubby little hands and squeezed her fingers.
“I guess that means you want to hold it.” He grinned. It was small and similar to the cups he’d seen parents give their kids.
She took the cup from him and pressed it to her mouth. Rufus wandered into the kitchen and sat nearby, watching them, his tail thumping. The dog must be thinking it was his turn for dinner, and he’d be right.
Garrett found the dog food and poured the hard chunks in the dog bowl. He picked up the other bowl and headed for the sink to refill it with water, but before he got that far, Sandy started to cry. He looked back at her and spotted milk everywhere.
What next?
He picked Sandy up to lift her out of the milky puddle and carried her to the living room. “Hey, Bryan and Melanie, can you watch her for a minute? She spilled her milk everywhere, and I need to clean up.”
“Didn’t you use her sippy cup?” The girl shook her head. It was something she often did as if she were dealing with a child and not the other way around.
“The purple cup?”
“Yes. Then it couldn’t spill. Did you put the lid on it?” she asked.
Garrett winced. Another mistake. “What lid?”
“The orange top sitting at the back of the sink.” He’d seen the contraption but hadn’t been sure what to do with it.
“Oh. Guess not.” He started to head back to the kitchen, but Sandy started to cry louder. She held up her arms to him.
“Guess she wants to go with you. Is that right, Sandy?” Melanie asked her.
The little girl nodded.
Garrett headed back to the kitchen, baby in his arms. As he rounded the corner, he noticed Rufus licking up the milk. Well, that’s one redeeming quality for a dog. The floors probably needed mopping, but at least nobody would play slip and slide with the milk puddle.
He rinsed out her sippy cup, filled it with more milk, and put the lid on this time. He handed it to Sandy, who eagerly took it.
Using her other hand, she tried to push down from him. He put her down, and she took off running down the hall, back to her brother and sister.
Garrett pulled a bottle of his mother’s favorite wine from the pantry and poured a glass. Five minutes of peace and quiet was heaven. Hoping for answers, he tried calling the solicitor but was forced to leave a voicemail.
He was barely getting through tonight. A few more days would feel like forever. How could anyone expect him to watch three kids, even if only for a few days, and deal with the celebration of life his mother wanted that was set for tomorrow? Thank goodness, Jessica, his mother’s craft boutique manager, had emailed him shortly after he’d received the call from Charlie, letting him know she would handle everything with his mother’s business. Jessica was the silver lining he needed to get through the weekend while he waited for Angelica, freeing him up to handle the situation with kids.
Garrett glanced at his watch. A full hour had passed since April had left. He tapped his watch, checking to make sure it was still working. Seven o’clock, and it already felt like midnight-the bewitching hour. He hoped these kids’ bedtime was seven-thirty, or he’d never make it. How did anyone survive this kind of madness?
Chapter Three
April had never met Garrett in person, but she’d seen plenty of pictures in his mother’s house. They didn’t do the man justice. Tall, dark, and handsome had nothing on this guy. He was all that and more. His black hair was cut short and perfectly styled, with a natural waviness across the top. Long lashes and perfectly shaped eyebrows complemented his dark brown eyes. His olive skin was courtesy of his mother’s Italian heritage, the two of them the spitting image of one another right down to his sharp, angular jaw. The man deserved to be on the sexiest man alive list put out each year, although he was more businesslike than the easygoing men who usually won.
Garrett’s power suit and tie didn’t come close to a department store knockoff. One didn’t need to see the label to know he wore custom-tailored clothes. Sara Bradley had spoken of both her children with love and pride in her voice with good reason.
But right now, Garrett was floundering. Unfortunately, she had a feeling it would get worse before it got better. She’d struggled with how much to tell him, recalling a conversation she’d had with his mother months ago.
Sarah had wanted her own children to meet the little darlings living with her before they found out she’d adopted them, thinking it would help smooth the way to their acceptance of what she considered a non-negotiable outcome. Garrett obviously hadn’t been home, and he was finding out in the worst way possible. It made her sympathetic to his plight, but not enough that she could afford to stay longer.
She hoped Garrett was up to the task of parenthood because the one thing she hadn’t told him was going to send him over the edge. Angelica was not the answer Sarah Bradley had in mind when she set up her new will.
It didn’t take her long to get to the New Haven County Social Services office. The place was mostly deserted, but a few stragglers were hanging out trying to ease the caseload that never ended. She made her way to her cubicle and sat in her well-worn leather chair, the cracks revealing the white fibers beneath the surface. Government budgets didn’t include new chairs, especially not for assistants, even if they were overworked and underpaid. The creaky chair had seen better days.
Her desk was piled high with files and pink message slips. You’d think she’d been gone for weeks, not days. April flipped through the folders and picked out th
e most urgent ones. Tomorrow was Saturday, and technically her day off, but it had been months since she’d had one of those. Her cases wouldn’t resolve themselves and finding people at home on a Saturday was easier than hunting them down during the workweek.
Too bad she didn’t get credit for overtime. Instead, it was considered all part of the job, and the powers-to-be had no problem making sure everyone knew it.
“There you are, April. I was beginning to think you weren’t coming back.” Her boss’s voice made her cringe. She turned to face Tammy. The woman enjoyed lording her power over the employees who reported to her, making everyone’s life more miserable than it needed to be.
“It was just a few days, and it was client-related.” April felt the need to defend her decision.
“Well, I was just telling Teresa we should start looking for your replacement.” It had been three days, for crying out loud, and her boss knew exactly what she’d been doing and who she’d been doing it for. Once upon a time, those kids had been her charges, so in a way, she was doing her job. Too bad Tammy didn’t see it that way.
“Mr. Bradley just got in tonight. I couldn’t leave the kids. I came straight here to get some of my work to take home.” Her chin rose a notch, but only as much as she dared to make herself feel better, unwilling to push Tammy too far.
“Well, see that you get caught up. There are more than a dozen applicants waiting for the chance to get a job here.”
“I understand.” She also understood most of them wouldn’t last a month here with the long hours, long weeks, and never-ending workload.
“I will have to write this up as a warning. It wasn’t calendared for vacation, and it’s not personal leave for a family emergency or death, so those three days count as unexcused absences. Four total and you’re history.” Tammy pushed her glasses back, her haughty stare daring April to contradict her statement. The woman was a walking human resource handbook waiting to catch employees in the wrong.
April bit back the reply that popped into her head, knowing she couldn’t afford to lose this job. “Yes, ma’am.”
Tammy turned on her high heels and sashayed away like a queen holding court. Formal and stiff. One day, things would be different. One day, April would get the satisfaction of having the last word with that woman.
April’s dream had been to teach elementary school, not only to help kids learn the fundamentals of reading and math but also to help them learn life skills. Teaching them to grow as individuals and deal with the curves life threw you when you least expected them. Something no one ever did for her as a kid while she drifted in and out of foster homes.
She loved kids, and they were one of the main reasons she hadn’t quit this job. That, and her bills, of course. Once she’d save enough money to return to college, finish her degree, and could teach—she’d quit, but until then, she was stuck right here.
* * *
Throughout the night, April had pored over her files, making notes. By morning, she was bleary-eyed and tired but felt more in control of her workload. She got ready in record time and headed out the door, intent on stopping at the Sweeter Side of Life bakery for donuts to take the kids before she started her workday. She spent half the morning convincing herself it had nothing to do with seeing the man, and everything to do with checking up on the kids, but the truth landed somewhere in between, and there was no sense denying it.
April knocked on the door of the Bradley residence. Rufus barked, letting everyone in the house know someone was at the front door whether they’d heard the knock or not. The dog was a handful, and not always the best behaved, having been treated like an equal in the kid’s family and then with Sarah. Sometimes it was as though he forgot he was a dog.
The door opened, and Rufus rushed out to greet her, almost knocking the coffee out of her hand. She spun away from him to protect the treats she’d bought.
“Down, boy,” she scolded. The dog sat down, his tail wagging and slobber dripping down on the porch. She hazarded a gaze back at Garrett as he stood in the door watching the fiasco but unmoving. The poor guy looked like heck compared to his normal professional business image.
He still managed to get dressed in shirt and slacks, even at this hour of the morning, not to mention on a day off. But that’s where the similarities ended. His tie hung loosely around his neck, and his shirt was untucked. He sported bags under his eyes and a worn-out, haggard look on his face as though he hadn’t slept a wink.
“Rufus, inside,” she commanded in the most authoritative voice she could muster. It seemed to surprise them both when he did what he was told.
“Wow. Well done. You’re like a dog and kid whisperer.” Garrett’s compliment pleased her, and she flushed under his gaze.
“I wish. Sorry for stopping by so early, but I felt terrible leaving you in the lurch yesterday and thought I should stop in and see how things were going. I’ve got a few minutes and brought some coffee and donuts.” She held out a cup of coffee as a peace offering.
Garrett pushed the door open wide, gesturing for her to come inside and taking the bag from her. “Thanks. Are you a fairy godmother or something?”
“Or something.” She beamed, not willing to share her personal life with someone she didn’t know. She started down the hall toward the kitchen but made the mistake of glancing right to check on Rufus, but it wasn’t the dog who’d jumped up on the couch to make himself comfortable that caught and held her attention. The living room was a disaster. There were pillows on the floor, toys scattered everywhere, cups and bowls of popcorn on the coffee table and what looked like half the popcorn on the floor. “What happened here? A tornado?”
“A tornado would’ve done less damage than those kids.” His voice was a mixture of teasing and seriousness, causing her to shoot him a look of concern.
“What you mean?”
“I mean the kids were nonstop balls of energy last night. Is it always like this? A cage full of monkeys at a zoo would have been easier to control.” The lines across his forehead deepened.
“How much trouble could they have been after dinner? Sandy goes to bed at eight, and the other two at nine.” She shook her head, fighting back the grin threatening to escape.
“Interesting. I think I’ve been had.” Garrett shook his head and let out a sigh born of frustration. The man was a rookie when it came to kids, but then he’d told her as much right before she drove away.
“Let me guess, that’s not what they told you.” She couldn’t hold back her grin any more than she could have stopped the dawn of a new day.
“Bingo. And it’s not funny. The version I got was whenever we want to because it’s not a school night. They stayed up to watch movies, eat popcorn, and have pillow fights. There was nothing I could do to stop it, so I just hung out in the corner to make sure no one got hurt.”
“They got you good. I know it’s not funny, but they’re just kids being kids. They sense you’re a newbie at this and will test your authority. I’ll have a talk with them.” Not that it would be of any use when she wasn’t around. It was up to Garrett to establish the ground rules and his authority. She hoped he’d figure it out quick, for his sake.
“I’d appreciate that. Do you have time to share your cup of coffee with me? Adult conversation would go a long way to making my morning brighter.”
She glanced at her watch. “Sure, I’ve got about thirty minutes before I have to leave for my appointment.”
Garret led the way, using his foot to push a couple of toys out of their path.
“Where are the little darlings?”
“Fast asleep, thank God.” He shook his head.
April was stunned when she got a glimpse of the kitchen. She expected another war zone, but that wasn’t the case. “What happened here?”
“I happened. By the way, you were wrong. Cooking spaghetti was not a simple affair. It boiled over, then I burned it, and what was left was a huge lump that was inedible. Melanie saved the night by cooking a new bat
ch. Between that and Sandy’s spilled milk, last night can only be termed a disaster.”
Ouch. “I’m sorry.” Her shoulders shook as she tried to contain her laughter. “It sounds as though you had the heat too high. It boiled over and lost too much water. And it sounds as though you didn’t stir. A dab of oil in the water helps also.” She couldn’t imagine what it felt to be bested by a seven-year-old.
“None of which you mentioned.” He frowned.
“I assumed you had basic cooking skills. You do live alone.” It wasn’t her fault she’d overestimated him. How did the son of a woman who had been a fantastic cook end up not knowing the fundamentals?
“I never needed to cook. Mom didn’t let anyone in the kitchen when she was cooking, then came college and fast food, and now an upscale version of take-out is available from several local restaurants near where I live.”
“So how did you get from all that—” she pointed back to the living room, “—to this?” She indicated the clean kitchen with her hand.
“I sent them to the living room and cleaned up the kitchen. I might not be able to cook, but growing up, mother had Angelica and me cleaning and doing chores. A large part of that was kitchen duty. I learned to enjoy my spaces neat, clean, and uncluttered. Last night, I made this my sanctuary and posted it as off-limits. I even moved the dog’s water bowl to the front room and kept him out.” Garrett pulled a serving platter from the cupboard and set it on the table.
April busied her hands by laying out napkins. Anything to keep from watching Garrett and thinking about him as anything other than the children’s new guardian. Handsome and smart made it difficult. “Great idea. Wish I’d thought of something like that. At least the cleaning would’ve been more centralized.”
Garrett looked at her with interest. “You mean you’re not perfect at this? I was beginning to wonder.”
“Hardly. Let’s just say, I had to do a lot of cleaning when I was growing up, and I didn’t have much control over what people did.”