“Bowls?”
She pointed to the cupboard over his shoulder. “There. Pots and pans are in the cupboard next to the stove and spoons are in the drawer behind you.”
He found everything in neat order and oddly exactly where things should be. His mother had had a system of sorts, but Addy’s could be measured with a ruler.
It took less than ten minutes to make an omelet filled with shredded pieces of leftover steak, cheese, red and green peppers, and parsley with a minor pause to haul out the pie from the oven and set it on the cooling rack. He added salt and pepper to the omelet, rolled it up into a tube and slid it neatly onto a plate. Then he put it in front of Addy with a fork and waited.
“This is delicious!” she said around a mouthful. “And I didn’t need to call my insurance guy.”
Toby chuckled. He gathered up the mess he’d made and returned everything to its proper place. By the time he was finished, Addy had polished off her plate.
“Hey, where’s my half?” he demanded. “You were supposed to share.”
Big, brown eyes blinked up at him. “What? Really?”
The look of torn guilt on her face broke the serious face he was trying to maintain. He snickered. “No, I need like two of those to fill me up.”
Her scowl contradicted the laughter shining behind her eyes. “Not funny.”
He took her plate and fork and set them in the sink. He wiped down the counter area.
“Wow, you are very domestic,” she observed.
“Blame my mother.” He shook out the cloth and draped it over the ledge between the two sinks to dry. “She drummed all kinds of manners into us. I even remember to put the toilet seat down … occasionally,” he amended.
Addy laughed. “I thankfully don’t have that problem with Sean. He’s just naturally amazing.”
“Oh, Mom would never call us amazing. I was the bane of her existence for the first seventeen years. She couldn’t wait for me to leave for college.”
“No!” she protested. “I don’t believe that.”
“You can ask her. I was a pain in the ass. Always getting into trouble at school for doing really stupid shit. Clever, but seriously stupid.”
She was still chuckling. “Well, you turned out really nice.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Think so?”
Bright, red patches appeared in her cheeks, darkening them, but she held his gaze. “I do. I don’t know many people who would go out of their way to help a complete stranger.”
The island creaked beneath the arms he folded over the smooth marble. He leaned in, mostly to ease the pressure off his leg, but he found himself falling into those warm, brown pools instead.
“You know, I—”
His words were scattered by the soft shuffle of feet. A small person appeared in the doorway, clad in Tony Hawk sweats and a t-shirt, Sean squinted at them from the doorway. His brown hair was in disarray and stood up straight on one side. There were pillow marks on his left cheek and sleep crusting one eye closed. But it popped open when he spotted Toby. Both shot to his mother, then back at Toby in wary suspicion.
“Hey sweetie.” Addy rose off the stool. “Go wash up and I’ll get breakfast ready.”
Sean didn’t move. He stayed rooted to the threshold, glancing between them like he couldn’t fathom why his mother was anywhere near someone like Toby.
“Hey.” Toby offered him his best smile. “Had a good night?”
Sean frowned. “Yes.”
With that, he turned and padded out the way he’d come. Toby turned his questioning expression back to Addy.
“I’m sorry.” She hurried around to his side of the counter. “Sean’s just really shy. It takes some doing to get him to warm up to people he doesn’t know.”
Retrieving his cane, Toby switched sides. His untouched coffee was cold, but he took a sip, hoping the caffeine would start working some of its magic.
“It’s all right.” He set his mug down. “What’s the plan for today?”
“Well…” In the process of cracking eggs into a clean bowl, Addy glanced up. “I have to get some groceries and pay off a few bills. You?”
“Mostly going to work on finishing up the rest of the list.”
She nodded slowly as she beat the eggs with a fork. She added milk, salt, and pepper to the mix and turned to the stove. Her movement was fluid and unhurried.
“Will you be all right if I left you alone for part of the day?” The pan hissed as the batter was poured over hot metal. The bowl was set inside the sink before she faced him. “I’ll try to be very quick.”
Toby shook his head. “No, I’m pretty self-sufficient. I haven’t made a mess in the living room in years.”
The dry glower she sent him was tainted by the silent laughter glimmering in her eyes. “That isn’t what I meant.”
He nodded. “I know, and yes, I will be fine.”
“Would you like me to pick you up anything while I’m out?”
Toby scratched his chin. The stubble he hadn’t shaved that morning rustled beneath his nails.
“No, I think I’m good.”
The pan behind her began to sizzle and she hurried back to break the clumps up with her spatula. The eggs were scooped onto a plate and stuffed into the microwave. The bread box was yanked open and a full loaf of bread was drawn out. Two slices were cut and stuffed into the toaster.
Sean’s breakfast was ready by the time he returned, properly showered and dressed. He walked to the microwave and drew out his eggs. He buttered his own toast, grabbed his own juice and dumped himself in a chair at the table without a word to anyone.
“Sean, is your hamper full?” Addy asked as she wiped her hand and started towards the door with the rag still twisted in her grasp.
“I brought it down and sorted it already,” the boy mumbled into his plate. “It’s in the laundry room.”
“Thanks, sweetie.”
Then she was gone and Toby was left alone with the boy. Toby, who was normally really good with children, was at a loss for words to break the tension. Instead, he sat there and watched as Sean finished his breakfast, rinsed out his plate, and left the room. His footsteps echoed all the way to the foyer. A moment later, there was the hum of a machine as the computer was booted up. He returned with a backpack in one hand and a pile of books clutched against his chest with the other. Toby remained in his place as the books were tucked neatly into the bag. The bag was left by the door as the boy walked to the fridge and began preparing himself lunch. All this was done without even a glance in Toby’s direction.
Addy returned. She stepped around Sean and brought down a bowl. It was set in the spot next to Toby. A spoon joined it with a deafening clang.
“Hanna!” Addy called without pausing. She grabbed a box of cereal out of the cupboard. “Come on!”
Disheveled and miserable was the only way to describe Hanna as she staggered almost drunkenly into the kitchen. Her hair was a chaotic mess around her sulky face. Her pajamas were a wrinkled mess. One pant leg was bunched all the way up her thigh and the top was twisted around her torso. She dragged herself onto the stool and slumped face first onto the counter.
“It’s too early!” she moaned, her voice muffled by marble and hair.
“Get your face off the table and eat your breakfast. We’re going to Newburry today.”
Hanna looked no less miserable, but she lifted her head and stared blurry eyed at the bowl Addy was filling for her.
“Not a morning person, eh?” Toby mused, watching the girl all but face plant into her cereal.
“She’s absolutely miserable before ten AM.” Addy muttered as she returned the cereal to the cupboard and the milk to the fridge. “Sean, do you have everything?”
The boy nodded. He carried his newly made lunch to his bag and stuffed it inside. Addy checked her watch.
“The bus is going to be here in ten.” She looked to her son. “Do you want another piece of toast?”
Sean shook his head.
“I’m going to wait outside.”
Addy bent and kissed him on the cheek. “All right, baby. Have a good day.”
With a wave, Sean ambled out. They heard the front door close a few seconds later.
With Sean gone, it took no time at all to hurry Hanna along. By the time her cereal was done, Addy had already set out her clothes, tossed in a load of laundry, and cleaned up the morning dishes. She left Toby with her cell number before coaxing Hanna into the minivan and setting off.
With everyone gone and him standing in the middle of someone else’s foyer, Toby couldn’t help the ripple of uncertainty that worked over him. Aside from his family and Mark, he couldn’t remember the last time anyone left him alone in their home. That either made Addy really trusting or, well, there was no or. Nevertheless, he liked that she trusted him enough not to rob her blind.
List in hand, he set off to finish as much of the repairs as possible. There were many and most were minor things that took no time at all.
He was pounding new nails into the loose boards on the stairs when the front door swung open some hours later.
“We’re home!” Addy called out.
Toby set his hammer down, brushed his palms over his thighs, and went to greet them.
Addy looked up when he stepped into the foyer. Her nose was pink, matching her cheeks and the end of her chin. Her lips were stiff despite the wide smile she gave him.
“Hi!”
“Hey.” He took the paper bag from her. “Is there more in the car?”
She nodded. “Yes, but don’t worry. I can—”
“Take your coat off,” he cut her off. “You look cold.”
She offered him a doleful grimace. “It’s freezing outside.”
“Make us some coffee and I’ll grab the groceries.”
Her mouth opened, no doubt to protest, but Toby had already turned away. He took the bag into the kitchen and left it on the counter before making his way back to the front door. Addy was helping Hanna with her coat.
“Careful on the stairs,” he told them. “I have tools there.”
“I’ll be careful,” Hanna promised dutifully.
Chuckling, Toby pulled open the door and propelled himself out into the frigid cold. It was winter without the snow. The wind tore at his hair and nipped at the tips of his ears. He kept his head down as he hurried to Addy’s van. His knuckles blistered around the handle of his cane, but he gripped on tight.
There were four more bags. It took two trips to bring it all in.
“Jesus!” he hissed as he dumped the last two on the counter.
Addy nodded. “Like I said, freezing.”
He walked to the stool and sat. The frozen material of his jeans rubbed uncomfortably against his skin, making him fidget.
“Coffee’s almost ready,” Addy promised as she emptied the bags.
Toby watched her, brows furrowed. “When did the market get paper bags?”
In the process of folding said bags into neat squares of paper, Addy glanced up. “Oh, I didn’t go into Willow Creek.” She ducked her head and stuffed the bag in the cupboard under the sink. “I usually get my groceries in Newburry.”
His frown deepened. “Why?”
She shrugged. “Just something I prefer.”
The coffee pot quit brewing. It was brought to the table, along with the sugar and milk, and only one mug.
“No coffee for you?” he asked.
She shook her head. “One cup is my limit.” She gestured to the stove and the kettle heating on the element. “I’m making myself tea.” She tugged absently at the hem of her sweater. “Did you have lunch yet?”
He’d forgotten all about eating. He’d been so preoccupied by getting the work done, but now that she’d brought it up, his stomach took that moment to whimper pitifully. He prayed she hadn’t heard, but her brown eyes had gone enormous with alarm.
“Oh my God, Toby!” She rushed to the fridge and yanked it open. “You’re welcome to whatever you like in the kitchen,” she shouted at him while pulling out containers. “I don’t ever want you to think that you need to work yourself to death and not at least get a meal!” The containers were set down on the counter and immediately torn open. “I should have said. This is my fault. I am so sorry—”
“Addy.” He reached across the counter and settled his hand lightly over her much smaller, trembling one. “Deep breath, baby. I’m fine.”
The self-deprecation in her eyes, the downward tilt of her mouth cut at him.
“I should have told you,” she murmured.
“I’m the one who forgot,” he assured her. “I wasn’t even thinking about it until you brought it up.”
She drew her hand out from beneath his and went back to popping off the lids on the containers. Several items were scooped onto a plate. The plate was set inside the microwave. Then there was nothing to do but stand in silence as the food was heated up.
“I really am sorry,” she whispered at last. “I’m not used to having people here.”
Toby chuckled. “You run an inn.”
She nodded. “Yes, but I have a system with them, a sort of timetable I stick to rigorously. Otherwise, it’s just me and the kids. Sean’s usually at school and Hanna eats whenever she’s hungry. Aside from supper, I don’t really enforce meals.” Her brows drew together in a stubborn sort of determination. “I’ll do better tomorrow,” she promised. “I’ll make sure lunch gets served at a reasonable time and this won’t happen again.”
“Addy.” He waited until he had her full attention before offering her a small smile. “I’m a grown man. If I get hungry, I’ll get myself food. I don’t need you to worry yourself over me.”
She said nothing, and if she was going to speak, it was silenced by the shriek of the kettle. She turned away to make herself tea, keeping her back to him the entire time.
“Mommy?” Hanna trotted into the kitchen, arms laden with dolls in various shapes, sizes and colors. “Nancy is having a problem.”
Addy didn’t move. She stirred her drink, her head down for a full minute before her shoulders tightened and she drew herself up. Her face was void of its earlier panic. It was calm and soft and bright with a slight grin that he could see was costing her a lot to keep in place.
“What’s wrong with Nancy?” she asked, stepping up to the island and setting her cup down.
The dolls were dumped on the island and Hanna claimed the second stool.
“Her hair came down.” One of the dolls was separated from the others and held up so they could see the disarray that was the doll’s rumpled blonde locks. “We can’t fix it. I asked Margi, but she and Nancy had a fight and now they’re not talking.”
Toby raised an eyebrow. “Who’s Margi?”
A second doll was held up. “She is,” Hanna stated with that same, unblinking seriousness. “She’s a mortician.”
Addy choked on her tea. “Beautician, baby. Beautician.”
Toby burst out laughing. He couldn’t help it. The humor in the entire situation rocked through him and he couldn’t stop. On the next stool, Hanna clutched Nancy to her chest and giggled shyly, but with a sweetness that absolutely captured his heart. He leaned over and ruffled her already tangled mane.
“Don’t ever change,” he told her.
Hanna grinned. “Okay.”
It took him two days to get the stairs in order. The banister was bolted more securely along the side and the boards that had been loose were nailed down firmly. It took him another day to grease the hinges on all the doors and sand down the one in the laundry room so it fit without grinding against the frame. He replaced the scarred wood to fit more snuggly with the door and installed a better door handle, one that didn’t rattle every time someone turned it. By the fifth day, he had swapped every light switch and plug cover in the place for new ones, had slapped on a fresh coat of paint over the trim in the parlor, cleaned out the gutters, and wrapped the shrubs along the side of the property for the winter.
T
he weather had settled a notch. It was still crazy cold in the mornings and evenings, but the afternoon was almost bearable. Since the incident over lunch, Addy had kept her promise; a bowl of soup and a thick sandwich was placed before him at exactly noon every day. Hanna usually kept him company, introducing him to her dolls and warning him to take the tomatoes out of the sandwiches.
“Dogs pee on them!” she’d hissed when her mother wasn’t around.
He wasn’t entirely certain that was true, but he indulged her and removed the tomatoes.
“So Nancy said I should put Margi in the closet and keep her there until she was sorry.”
Buried under the sink with a wrench and a bucket, Toby nodded as a new chapter in the Nancy/Margi drama continued. Hanna sat on his toolbox a few feet away, Nancy hugged to her chest. Occasionally, she’d pause to take a sip of her juice box before resuming.
“I think Nancy’s jealous,” he panted, putting his entire weight behind dislocating the bend in the composter tube. “She sees that you and Margi have a good thing going and she doesn’t like it.”
“That’s what I think too!” Hanna declared. “But I don’t know how to fix it.”
Toby grunted as the plastic gave beneath his insistence. “You should have a tea party and get everyone to talk.”
The pipe gave and a waterfall of sludge gushed from the end. Toby just got the bucket under it. He drew out of the cupboard and wiped his hands on a rag.
“A tea party?” Hanna considered this. “Maybe.”
Toby dropped onto his butt on the linoleum. “Communication. That’s the key.”
Hanna’s head bobbed in wide eyed wonder at his sage words of advice.
Addy took that moment to walk into the kitchen, flipping idly through the morning mail. The sight of her, as it always did, spurred his heart into a wild gallop. His concentration wavered as his mind became clouded with how she moved, how her hair shimmered in the light, how her sweater pulled a bit too tight across her chest. Even from his place on the floor, he could just make out the faint outline of her hardened nipples. They jutted proudly forward in tight little bundles that begged to be skimmed. Already he could feel his hands palming the mounds while he pushed her into the nearest flat surface and ravaged her mouth. He’d skim the points with his thumbs, circling and teasing until she was begging him to take her.
His Lullaby Baby Page 7