Dad in an Instant

by Lori Wilde

  Something that had been niggling at him suddenly turned into a full-blown worry. Abbie was right for Lucas, but was Lucas right for Abbie? How would being Lucas’ nanny help her sort out her future, help her prepare for a new career?

  It was too late, and he was too tired to address the question.

  “Okay, you guys, now that you’ve organized my weekend, shove off and let me get this kid to bed.”

  When at long last they were gone, Jake tucked Lucas into bed, telling him, “I’m a very responsible babysitter.”

  Lucas sucked his fist.

  “Have you ever had a wet diaper longer than thirty seconds? Don’t I feed you well, given what I have to work with? Isn’t Abbie the best nanny in the world?”

  Lucas smiled, and his eyelids drooped.

  “In the short run,” Jake said sadly, “I’m the kind of guy anybody would be willing to leave a kid with, but, little brother, we’re in it for the long haul.”

  14

  Abbie was pleased with what she’d accomplished even while missing Lucas like crazy and wishing she were with him.

  And Jake.

  She really missed Jake these days.

  But rather than mope, she’d used her time wisely. She’d scoured the bathroom and gotten the kitchen cleaned up enough to stand walking into it, put the clutter of paper and magazines in the living room into a box, and thoroughly vacuumed her favorite chair and the floor.

  While she worked, she planned a color scheme for the benefit dinner. All white would have been more formal, but the foliage would be sporting its fall colors at the time of the benefit, and she’d decided to take advantage of it.

  The rental company offered rust-colored tablecloths she’d combine with napkins in a soft maple-leaf red-orange and an aspen yellow.

  She’d alternate the colors at each table. Cream plates, cups, and saucers. Centerpieces of chrysanthemums in coordinating colors.

  She’d been thinking of Jake and his “gourmet meat and potatoes” menu while she made her choices. The colors would complement the food, as if his cooking even needed complementing. She should check it out with Lilah, though.

  She glanced at Mrs. Langston’s wall clock, a beautiful walnut antique. Nine-thirty. She shouldn’t call Lilah at this hour. She’d do it in the—

  Her cell phone rang. “Lilah!” she said. “I was just wondering if it was too late to call you.”

  “Almost, but not quite,” Lilah said. “Rafe and Clint dropped in on Jake and found him playing daddy tonight, so I thought I’d give you a call and see how you and Lucas are getting along.”

  “He’s a lot more fun than a stack of dirty plates,” Abbie said. “So far, so good. He’s the most darling child I’ve ever known. Happy—well, almost always—curious, smart, cooperative…he’s remarkable.”

  “I’m so glad you’re taking care of him,” Lilah said. “It’s a match made in heaven.”

  Abbie laughed. “Well, I’m certainly enjoying myself. Incidentally—” And she launched into a description of the color scheme she’d just decided to go with.

  “Sounds gorgeous,” Lilah said. “Warm, cozy colors for a cool fall night. Go with it.”

  “Thanks. Oh, I have a question for you. Do you have any suggestions for things to do with babies?”

  “How odd,” Lilah said. “Jake was talking about the same thing.”

  “It was Jake’s own idea. He asked me to look for possibilities. I know about the big attractions all over the state, but I’m wondering if he should start with something low-key and close to home.”

  “I’ll do some thinking,” Lilah said. “Rafe and Clint are bugging Jake to take Lucas somewhere this weekend.”

  “I’m sure he’ll think of something wonderful,” Abbie said.

  “I just hope it’s not a kitchenware store.” Lilah snickered. “Before I hang up, are you happy in Mrs. Langston’s house?”

  “Oh, yes.” Abbie sighed. “Bless her heart, she must have kept everything she’s ever owned. Maybe everything three generations of collectors have owned. I’m standing here looking at two china cupboards and one of those lighted display cases chock-full of doodads, from china figurines and cut-glass vases to an ashtray that says, ‘Welcome to the Grand Canyon.’ Plus, stuff in the kitchen cupboards and on top of every table—”

  “I wonder if Priscilla would like to have a yard sale,” Lilah said thoughtfully, “and donate the proceeds to the center.” She laughed. “I’m not shy, am I?”

  “If I organized it, it would be something nice I could do for her,” Abbie said slowly.

  “If it’s for the center, I’ll rally the troops. The whole family plus the center volunteers will help you and Priscilla price things. We can do it in no time flat.”

  “Okay. I’ll ask her,” Abbie said.

  “I have a better idea. Your mother’s our chief fundraiser and very, very persuasive.”

  “As if I didn’t know,” Abbie muttered.

  “I’ll ask her to approach Priscilla.”

  When the call ended, Abbie sank into her chair, noticing proudly that the cloud of dust was nonexistent as the result of her vacuuming. She was tired but also sort of excited about her life. She’d read in bed last night, a book describing types of jobs in the psychology field, their educational requirements and their limitations. While Lucas napped tomorrow, she’d read more of it.

  Or, instead, would she find herself washing Lucas’ clothes, straightening up his toys, and making a grocery list of baby foods and supplies? Being the perfect nanny, the way she’d tried to be perfect at any job? She was getting too deeply into the nanny role. Instead, she had to focus on finding the perfect career.

  “Hi, Mom. Meet Lucas,” Abbie said when she and Lucas arrived for lunch the next day.

  Somehow, Abbie wasn’t surprised to see her mother’s eyes soften. “Well, hello,” Elaine said to Lucas. “Come right in. I have a present for you.” She practically snatched Lucas out of his stroller.

  Abbie left it in the front hall, dumped her coat on top of it, and joined them in the living room. Her mother was on the floor with Lucas, who had his plump little arms wrapped around the biggest stuffed bear Abbie had ever seen. He rolled over with it, then rolled over again, shrieking with joy.

  “I think it’s a hit,” Abbie said. “What shall we name it? Bearly There? Bearable?”

  When her mother frowned, Abbie stooped down to give her a hug. “Hello to you, too,” she said. “Thanks, Mom. He loves that bear, and I love you.”

  Then her gaze whipped away from Abbie and right back to Lucas. “Papa Bear,” she cooed. “That’s what we’ll call him, won’t we, Lucas?” She looked at Abbie again, her eyes narrowed. “We’ll keep him right here at my house for you to play with when you visit.”

  Her message was clear. Abbie had a substitute nanny on call and eager for the work. And boy, was she eager. Elaine was so wrapped up in Lucas that an hour later, Abbie was finally forced to say, “Um, Mom, I think everyone’s getting hungry. How about I make something?”

  “Oh!” Elaine said, leaping up. “I forgot all about lunch. I guess I’ve really fallen for this little guy.”

  Abbie smiled. Her mother and Lucas seemed to be getting along quite well. She couldn’t blame her mother for falling for him. Lucas was a doll.

  Jake sighed. He was under even more pressure than before. And pressure to do what? Take his kid brother out somewhere next weekend. Just thinking about it exhausted him, packing the diaper bag, putting Lucas in the car seat, folding the stroller into the back. His left hip, he thought, was permanently skewed in that direction, and Lucas would have to get used to other forms of transportation.

  “Lilah says you and Lucas have a date this weekend,” Abbie said when she arrived the next morning.

  “Right,” Jake said. “I thought we’d go skydiving.”

  Abbie laughed. “I see you’ve been thinking creatively.”

  He threw out his hands in supplication. “I don’t know where to take him,
” he admitted. “Lilah said something about a farm where he could pet the animals, but I don’t feel comfortable about it. What if one of them bites him? You laugh,” he said, looking at Abbie’s amused expression, “but who knows what an animal might do when Lucas grabs onto its ears and won’t let go.”

  Suddenly she snapped her fingers. “You know, I have an idea. Ever been to Mayhew’s Farmer’s Market?”

  He wrinkled his forehead. “I know about it, of course. But I buy from local folks, so I’ve never been there.”

  “It’s a wonderful place. They have fruits and vegetables, their own honey and jams, and they sell local crafts.”

  How could she sound so bubbly this early in the morning?

  “The Mayhews grow everything themselves. The farm stand’s right in the middle of the fields, so you can do your own picking if you want to. And,” she said, “I hear they have a pumpkin patch.”

  Jake had a brilliant idea of his own. “Go with us, then,” he said craftily. “I’ll never find it without you.”

  She hesitated. “I think you need time alone with Lucas.”

  He gave her an aggrieved look. “He and I will be alone and lost, maybe never find our way home again. Think how bad you’ll feel.”

  “I feel,” she said, “as if I’m being conned.”

  “Did it work?”

  She smiled. “Yep. Like magic. Okay, let’s do it. Saturday between two and five?”

  “I’d like that a lot,” he said, rubbing it in and feeling pretty good about his people skills. “Guess my charm worked after all.”

  Abbie laughed softly. “I think I’ve figured out why Jake’s Place is such a success. It’s not the food; it’s your charm.”

  Abbie climbed out of Jake’s SUV and filled her lungs with the scented fall air. Mayhew’s Farmer’s Market was exactly as she remembered it. The exterior was beaten and weathered from surviving so many tough Texas Panhandle winters, but inside, the lights shone brightly on towers of gleaming apples, fat squashes, all kinds of potatoes, and mouthwatering mounds of heritage tomatoes.

  The place was packed, inside and out. Behind the old store stood the greenhouses that kept Mayhew’s supplied with lettuces, spinach, green beans, and other vegetables when they were out of season.

  Behind the greenhouses was her favorite place, the pumpkin patch.

  She glanced over her shoulder at Jake, who seemed to be getting out of the car pretty fast himself. One look at him and she knew he was hooked. His eyes had glazed over. Food. Fresh, good food. How could he not be interested?

  “This place is great,” he said and hurriedly pulled out the stroller and settled the boy into the seat. “Okay, buddy,” he said enthusiastically. “Let’s go get us a pumpkin.”

  The day was slightly overcast with a slight chill in the air, a perfect day for exploring the market. They went first to the tables in front, which groaned under the burden of brightly colored vegetables.

  Lucas was delighted. His hands reached for everything Abbie held out for his inspection. She was glad she’d come with them because Jake was transfixed by the display.

  “Those fingerling potatoes look good. I’ll get some for dinner. Boil them, then at the last minute, frizzle them in olive oil.” He picked up six baskets and dumped them into a paper bag.

  “Don’t touch the purple potatoes.” The words came from a tall, rugged man with short white hair. Meriwether Mayhew had been a naval officer, and when he retired, he did an unlikely thing—started an organic farm, which he ran with the same authority he’d had as a military man. His wife, his sons and daughters, and their kids all helped out, but “Mer” Mayhew was still the man in charge.

  With a look of disgust, he began throwing the offending purple potatoes into a trash can marked Compost. “Those potatoes are past their prime,” he said. “My daughter’s kids don’t know a potato from a payphone.” He sighed. “Guess they can’t all grow up to be farmers.”

  He turned to look at Abbie. “Well,” he said, the twinkle returning to his light-blue eyes. “I know this face.” He turned to Jake. “Abbie’s been coming here since she was so young she kept tumbling over the pumpkins.” He studied Jake for a moment. “You’re Jake Galloway, right? I’ve been to Jake’s Place a few times. Tasty food.”

  Mer hunkered down so that he was at eye level with Lucas. “But this young man’s new to me.” He gave Abbie a quizzical look. “Is he—”

  “He’s Jake’s half-brother,” Abbie said smoothly, “and I’m temporarily taking care of him.”

  “He’s the spitting image of you,” Mer said, looking up at Jake.

  “The brothers do look alike,” Abbie said. “I want Lucas to see the pumpkin patch. You know how I always loved it.”

  Mer solemnly shook Lucas’ hand. “Pleased to meet you, sir. You folks have a good time, and you find anything as over-the-hill as those potatoes were, you bring ’em to me.”

  “Interesting man,” Jake said. “He cares about quality.”

  “So do you,” Abbie said.

  “This is a tomato, Lucas,” Jake said, holding out a creased, lumpy heirloom variety for Lucas’ inspection. “It’s the best kind, not pretty but it tastes better than—”

  With one enthusiastic swing of his hand, Lucas knocked the tomato to the rough plank floor.

  Abbie gasped and dived for it, holding it carefully as if it were an injured bird. It had split neatly at the base and fanned out over her hand, dripping juice and seeds. Jake gazed at it for a second or two, while the aroma of lushly ripe tomato filled the air. “Okay, we’ll buy that one,” he said to Lucas. “Excellent choice.”

  Abbie dumped the tomato into a bag and dashed to the counter for paper towels. She’d pay for it first, then clean up the mess and toss it in the trash. When she got back, Jake was gently putting a large basket of the tomatoes into a bag. She began wiping tomato juice off the floor and looked up to see his eyes on her.

  “You knew you could sucker me in, didn’t you?” His chin dimpled when he smiled. “I get carried away about food.”

  “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

  “Okay, I deserve that. You know, I’d like to talk to Mayhew about supplying the diner. Do you mind if I…”

  “Not at all.” She took the handles of the stroller from Jake. “You’ll probably find Mer in the office. Lucas and I will do some craft shopping while you’re busy.”

  She grabbed a paper bag from a stack nearby, and staying to the center of the aisle to keep Lucas’ busy hands away from the merchandise, she selected a box of milk chocolate fudge for her mother. Then she gravitated toward the display of handmade candles.

  She picked up an evergreen-scented candle. Lucas sniffed deeply, smiled, babbled, and managed to get his hands around it. “Christmas,” she murmured to him. “You’re smelling Christmas.”

  He was almost nine months old now. He’d been born to Jake’s father and his wife at a time when a Christmas tree might still have been up in their house. A bell chimed in her head. Jake’s father must have had a wife because they’d had a baby.

  She might have died in the accident, too.

  “We’ll take this Christmas candle home,” she said and popped it into the shopping bag.

  Jake moved up behind her. She didn’t have to look. She could feel him there. She turned to see his face glowing with satisfaction.

  “You cut a deal with Mer?” she asked.

  He nodded and took back the handles of Lucas’ stroller. “I’ll buy vegetables in season from the locals, and he’ll take care of the rest.”

  “That sounds good.”

  “Mer said to leave our stuff on the counter and go for the pumpkin patch,” he said.

  “Ummu dok uhnnl,” Lucas said, which Abbie interpreted as “and about time.”

  The rows of pumpkins were as neat as pumpkin rows can be. “What do you think, Lucas?” she asked, letting Jake push the stroller down the wide dirt paths. “Aren’t they pretty?”

  Lucas burbled his approval.


  She turned to Jake. “I remember looking for the perfect pumpkin, but the truth is that pumpkins aren’t perfect,” she said. “One day my parents got so impatient—they had other things to do—that my mom was about to lose it when Mer came out and explained that pumpkins have their own quirks that make them special.”

  “Like people,” Jake said.

  She nodded. “Yes. Take this one, for example,” she said, pointing to a particularly small pumpkin. The pumpkin in question was bumpy and squashed. “She’s shorter but wishes she were taller. She’s self-conscious, which you can tell by the way she’s hiding behind other pumpkins.”

  “You think maybe she looks at the other pumpkins as her protectors from rejection?”

  The way he gazed at her made her nervous and happy at the same time. Abbie cleared her suddenly tight throat and said, “She’s not afraid of rejection. She’s made up for what she lacks in height by being a wonderfully deep orange color.” She picked the pumpkin up and held it close. “I’m choosing this one.” Remembering their reason for being here, she added, “Lucas, which pumpkin do you like?”

  Jake hunkered down by the stroller and made eye contact with Lucas. “We menfolk need to think about this a while, don’t we? We shouldn’t rush into picking a pumpkin. Sounds like this is serious business. Since pumpkins are like people, we want to choose the right one.”

  Abbie laughed, and when Jake stood, she placed one hand on his arm. “I believe in you, Jake. If you were a pumpkin, you’d be everyone’s first choice.”

  He took a step closer to her until they were almost touching. She didn’t know who made the first move, but suddenly his lips were against hers, his arms wrapping around her and pulling her close.

  A jolt of surprise danced through her, but she ignored it. So what if kissing Jake wasn’t smart? Who said she had to be smart all of the time? She’d wanted this kiss for what seemed like forever.

  As the kiss deepened, she slid her arms around his neck, feeling his body pressing closer to hers. She sensed he was giving her everything he felt in his heart at that magical moment. She knew she was. “I shouldn’t be doing this,” he breathed into her ear, “but I don’t care.”