Counting Stars

by Michele Paige Holmes

  “Now we can each push,” he said. “Let’s hurry. I think I see the start of the parade.”

  Jane held Mark and Madison while Pete popped open the strollers. “See? One hand,” he bragged. “I tried out every single model at the store, and these were the best.”

  “Does the fact that they have Jeep written on the side have anything to do with it?” Jane teased.

  “Maybe,” Pete admitted. “It’s good to feel manly when taking your children on a walk. But that’s not the only reason. Look how great they are.” He pointed out the different features. “Lightweight, yet they recline. And they have this cool storage pouch. You know, for all the Cheerios and stuff? And check out the tread on these tires.”

  Jane couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “You chose well. And it was very sweet of you.” Sweet. Where had that come from? Sweet was something you said to a boyfriend when he brought you flowers. She mentally cringed at her choice of words.

  Thankfully, Pete didn’t seem to notice. He’d already strapped Mark in and waited for her to tuck Maddie’s blanket around her. Jane nodded that she was ready, and they took off at a brisk walk, heading for the parade route. They’d gone about a block when Jane heard someone call her name.

  She looked over to the curb and was surprised to see Tara walking toward her. She was wearing a very tight lime-green miniskirt and matching sweater with some sort of boa thing attached—and she was holding hands with Zack.

  “Jane, I haven’t seen you in forever,” Tara exclaimed, giving her a hug. “What have you been doing the past few weeks? You look—different.”

  Pete stopped and turned around, heading back to her. Oh no, Jane thought. He’d survived her family thus far, but Tara was another matter entirely. “We’ve been running to make it to the parade on time,” she said, praying Tara would shut up.

  “No,” Tara shook her head. “That’s not it. You have a look like—Who is this?” she asked as Pete stopped beside Jane.

  “Tara, Zack, this is Peter Bryant. He recently returned from Iraq.” Jane looked at Pete, apology in her eyes. “Pete, this is my friend Tara, and her friend Zack.” She could have introduced them as ‘my friends, Tara and Zack,’ but she’d never counted Zack as one of her friends. Any guy that would hit on his girlfriend’s co-worker was a creep in her book, and Zack had earned that distinction early on. For the life of her, Jane could not imagine what had possessed Tara to see him again. Had she forgotten about the loss of her cat, her art classes, her freedom?

  Tara’s eyes were huge. “This is Peter?” She smiled at him, exposing every one of her recently whitened teeth.

  “That’s me.” Pete shook hands with Zack and then Tara, who, Jane noticed, held on a second longer than necessary.

  “So,” Jane said. “What are you two up to today?”

  “We decided to go out to brunch—you know for the holiday,” Tara said. “And then I’m going to show Zack some property. He’s thinking of buying a house.”

  “Oh,” Jane said, nodding her head, silently sending Tara the Are you out of your mind? look. Jane turned to Pete. “Tara is a realtor. In fact, she is my realtor. How’s that going, by the way? Any offers on my cottage?”

  “Not yet,” Tara said brightly. “You know what I say. If it’s meant to sell, then it will.”

  “It’s meant to sell,” Jane said. “And soon. Because if it doesn’t, I’m going to be living on macaroni and cheese.”

  “You’re so funny, Jane,” Tara said. “You’ll just have to come back to work, that’s all. Did you know Jane is also a real estate agent?” Tara asked, looking at Pete. “She’s given up a very promising career to stay home with those babies.” Tara glanced at the twins. “Though they are getting cuter.”

  Jane rolled her eyes, and she noticed Zack shifting uncomfortably at the mention of babies. She watched his gaze drift to Madison and Mark and noticed his look of boredom change to one of outright repulsion.

  Run, Tara, Run, Jane thought.

  “It was nice to meet you, but we’d better get going,” Pete said. “The parade is supposed to start in a few minutes, and we don’t have a spot yet.”

  “Good to see you,” Zack said, looking at Jane.

  “Nice to meet you too,” Tara murmured, taking a last, lingering look at Pete. She turned to Jane. “Call me.”

  “Sell my house,” Jane replied, then hurried to catch up with Pete.

  “Interesting friend,” he commented as soon as she’d caught up with him.

  “Yes,” Jane agreed.

  “Why are you having her sell your house?”

  “Because she’ll give me a break on the commission, and because she took care of everything with the listing so I didn’t have to.”

  “No. I mean, why are you selling your house?”

  “Because I couldn’t live there with Mark and Madison.” Jane started to jog, trying to match Pete’s pace. “It’s on Bainbridge—not very close to the hospital.”

  “But if you’re a realtor, why not list it yourself?” He looked over, slowing his stride as he noticed her running. “Wouldn’t it be worth the paperwork not to have to pay any commission?” He stopped suddenly. “Let’s cross here. I think I see a place on the other side.”

  Jane followed across the street. They walked another half block before finding some free space along the curb. She spread out the thick blanket she’d brought while Pete lifted the twins from their strollers. They settled on the blanket just in time to see the last of the pre-parade activities.

  “All right, Mark. This is it.” Jane bounced him on her knee in time to the music of the approaching band. As the drummers walked by, she pulled the earflaps of his hat down to muffle the sound.

  “You never answered my question,” Pete reminded her. “Don’t take this wrong, but it seems kind of strange for a realtor not to list her own house.”

  “I suppose it does,” Jane said. “But you have to understand that before Mark and Madison came along, that cottage was the love of my life. It was a miracle I was ever able to afford it, and then I put all my spare time and money into the yard. It was very hard to leave—I don’t think I could show it to people. So you see, Tara will earn her commission.”

  “Why not just rent it?” Pete asked.

  “I am, sort of, for now,” Jane said. “Tara’s been staying there since she broke up with Zack. But she can’t afford the whole mortgage payment, and after what I saw today, I wonder if she’ll move out altogether.” Jane sighed. “In any case, the cottage isn’t practical anymore. With Mark’s health problems, it will be a long time before I would feel like I could stay there—even on weekends. I’d never forgive myself if something happened and I wasn’t close enough to the hospital.”

  Pete nodded and returned his attention to Madison and the parade. Her eyes were wide as she followed the activity down the street. Beside him, Jane beamed as she snuggled Mark close and pointed out all the exciting things to see. Pete watched her from the corner of his eye, irritated with himself that he was intrigued by her. Richard had been right on the money. The more Pete learned about Jane, the more he wanted to know. She was the most unusual woman he’d ever met, and he still couldn’t fathom all she’d given up—the life she’d left behind to care for Paul’s children.

  Pete forced himself to look away, silently acknowledging that his curiosity, admiration, and respect for Jane were growing day by day.

  * * *

  “Today was a lot of fun,” Jane said as she turned on the night-light and left the twins’ room. Pete followed right behind her.

  “It was,” he agreed. “I think I got some great pictures. I really love this new digital camera. I can take hundreds of shots of Mark and Madison and store them on my computer.”

  “Strollers, a new camera . . . Aren’t you just the proud dad?”

  Pete laughed. “I guess I’d better be careful I don’t become the broke dad.”

  “I know what that’s all about,” Jane said. She went into the kitche
n and got two glasses of water. “And believe me, it’s no fun.”

  “Then why don’t you use some of the insurance money?” Pete asked. He sat at the counter across from her.

  Jane frowned as she handed him a glass. “How do you know about that?”

  “About what?” he asked, taking a drink. “About the money we can draw on, or the fact that you haven’t used a cent of it?”

  “I assumed you knew about the account,” Jane said. She took a long drink of water, then looked directly at Peter. “Richard Morgan thought I was in this for the money. He thought that I’d preyed on Paul or something and was just waiting to pounce.” She sounded indignant. “I’d much rather struggle than have him thinking—”

  Pete held a hand up, cutting her off. “Richard thought you were after Paul’s money, but that was months ago. Believe me, he’s changed his opinion since then. Besides, taking some money out to pay Mark’s doctor bills—instead of selling your car, for example—would in no way implicate you’re after any money.”

  Jane’s brow furrowed. She set her glass aside, folding her arms across her chest. “How did you know about my car?”

  “Richard told me—only because I wondered what became of my Jeep,” he added quickly.

  “Hmm.” Jane turned away, her ponytail flipping behind her, driving him crazy again. He watched as she carried dishes from the counter to the sink. “Speaking of the Jeep . . .” Pete said.

  “Yes?” She opened the dishwasher.

  “What would you think if I waited awhile on purchasing a car?”

  “What would I drive?” She turned on the faucet and began rinsing out bottles.

  “The Jeep, of course,” Pete said. “Richard has an old Mercedes parked in his garage he said I could use. He was going to let his son start driving it, but his grades dropped and the insurance is too much.”

  Jane shrugged. “Sounds like you don’t need to buy a car right away.” She turned to him. “Unless you’d rather drive the Jeep, that is. It seems to me you’re pretty attached to it, and pushing around a Jeep stroller isn’t quite the same.”

  “No,” Pete agreed. “It isn’t, but those were some pretty good off-road tires through the grass.” He grinned.

  “How did Paul come to have your car, anyway?” Jane asked.

  She returned to loading the dishwasher, and Pete was glad she couldn’t see his face. He cleared his throat, wishing the unbidden memory of Tamara would clear away as easily.

  “It was a wedding present.”

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Jay stuck the paper in his folder, shoved the folder in his backpack, and left the room. Instead of feeling self-conscious—as he usually did—about his inexpensive backpack next to the leather attachés he saw his classmates with, he felt great. The professor’s remarks on the top of his paper burned into his mind.

  Brilliant. At the end of the semester, see me about an internship.

  What a wonderful thing that would be, Jay thought. Most internships paid considerably more than he made now, and with a little luck he’d have a great start to his résumé and a leather attaché by the time school started again next fall.

  Jay left the building and zipped up his jacket as he walked across campus. For late March, the air felt bitter cold; he was still accustomed to the more temperate climate of Seattle. He thought—as he did every day—of the ocean, the city, and Jane. The promise of spring was in the air. Soon he’d have finals. Summer would be here before he knew it. Over half the time had passed until he would see her again.

  He wondered what the past seven months had been like for her. Had she met someone? Did she ever think of him?

  He’d dreamed of her again last week. She was downtown, walking around, looking at different vendors, milling through a crowd. She’d had a smile on her face—the prettiest he’d ever seen. And though they hadn’t spoken in his dream, he could sense her happiness.

  Jay waited for the light to change, then crossed the street. Dreams usually came to him for a reason. It had been that way in his family for as long as their history had been recorded. He found himself grateful for this dream now and hoped it was a sign of things to come.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Jane walked into the family room and handed Mark to Peter. “I’ve just changed both their diapers, so they’re good for a couple of hours. Their pajamas are on the top shelf of the changing table, and you could probably skip their baths tonight.” She took a can from the counter. “The formula is right here—you remember it’s one scoop for every two ounces, right?”

  Pete nodded.

  “There’s half a jar of peaches in the fridge and another of applesauce,” Jane continued. “Try to feed them those before their bottles, okay?”

  “Mmm-hmm,” Pete answered, his attention on Mark and his toes. “This little piggy went to Pizza Hut,” he began, wiggling Mark’s big toe.

  “Remember, after you’ve fed Mark, please watch him carefully if he’s on his back. And just in case, I’ve written down the pediatrician’s number and poison control. Of course, you know 9-1-1.”

  “I’m vaguely familiar with that one,” Pete said dryly. He pulled his attention from Mark’s toes to Jane’s anxious face. “I’m not twelve.”

  Jane set the paper on the counter. “I’m sorry.” She sighed. “I’m a little nervous is all.”

  “A little?” Pete asked. “All morning you’ve been acting like you’ve never left them before.”

  “Well, I haven’t,” Jane said. “At least not for this long, or . . .”

  “With me?” he guessed.

  Jane looked out at the backyard. “Well yes, that too,” she admitted.

  Pete got up from the couch and put Mark in his exersaucer—the latest in the string of toys Pete had purchased in the past month. He walked over to Jane. “Listen,” he said, gently turning her face to him. He was surprised to see her eyes glistening with unshed tears. He’d known she was worried, but . . . “I’m not that bad, am I?” he teased.

  She shook her head. “You’re not bad at all. You’re great—the perfect dad.” She took a deep, shaky breath and looked into his eyes. “I . . . I need to know that Mark and Madison will be here when I get back.”

  “Of course they’ll be—” His eyes widened as understanding dawned. “You’re still worried I’ll try to take them.” It was his turn to feel hurt.

  “Well you see it all the time on those flyers in the mail,” Jane’s voice wavered. “And you admitted you’d thought about it.”

  “Whoa. Wait just a minute.” Pete held his hands up and took a step back. “That was over a month ago. I’d hope by now you’d know I could never do that. I love Mark and Madison, and I want what’s best for them. I know that’s you. How you could even think . . . ?” Shaking his head, Pete returned to the couch and sat down.

  Jane stood silent a moment, her arms folded across her chest, head down. Finally she walked over and sat on the opposite end of the couch. “I’m sorry,” she said. “This whole situation is just so strange—and difficult. My life has been so strange and difficult since I met your brother.”

  Pete looked at her but did not say anything.

  She tried to explain. “Paul never talked about you, and because you weren’t around to help him during those last weeks of his life, I really made you out to be the bad guy. When you didn’t come to his funeral, or even call, I was downright incensed. I felt justified in raising the twins by myself, which is why I wouldn’t use any of the money or do anything else that might be used against me in court. I hired an attorney, and I was ready to do whatever it took to keep my children.” She looked down at her lap, fingers anxiously twisting her purse strap. “Then you came, and you were nothing like I’d imagined.”

  “Thank goodness,” Pete said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

  “From that first day, you were great,” Jane continued. “A natural with the twins—truly the perfect father. And now I know I’d never win in court against you. Even if you weren�
�t an attorney yourself—” Jane bit her lip. “I’d never want to win, because Mark and Madison deserve to be with you. You’re family. You’re how I believe Paul would have been.”

  Pete leaned back against the sofa cushions but did not look at her.

  “I’m sorry,” Jane said again. “But I can’t imagine my life without Mark and Madison. They’re everything to me.”

  Pete sat up and reached for her hand. “They’ll be here,” he said quietly, looking into her eyes. A slow grin lit his face. “I hate court, and besides, you’d win.”

  * * *

  Exhausted, Pete sank onto the couch. He looked over at the clock in the kitchen and saw it was two in the afternoon. So much destruction in so little time, he mused, looking at the family room strewn with toys. Maddie’s newest game was to take everything out of the toy basket and throw things as far as she could. She actually had a pretty good arm. There might be a softball player in her.

  Glancing in the breakfast nook, he remembered that he’d left the high chairs and table messy from lunch. Globs of banana stained the kitchen floor, and mashed cracker pieces reached all the way to the refrigerator. Yep, that’s some arm, Maddie. Empty bottles lined the counter, and a small stack of messy diapers balanced by the back door, waiting to be taken to the big garbage can outside. Pete looked at the clock again.

  Jane had only been gone four hours.

  She’d be away the rest of the day, all night, and most of the day tomorrow, trying to finish up a landscaping job at Sequim Bay. She’d been excited about her work, he could tell, but she’d also been a wreck about leaving the twins. Whereas he’d been fine with the whole arrangement—eager, in fact, to have some time alone with Mark and Madison and prove to Jane that he could handle the weekend thing just fine.

  Fool. He frowned at his own naivety. Coming over to play for a couple of hours each night wasn’t the same as caring for two babies all day—alone. Still, he planned to have the twins fed and bathed and the house clean when Jane walked in the door tomorrow night.