Wanted--The Perfect Mom

by T. R. McClure

  Carrying two travel mugs, she stepped into the shadow of the bank. Across the street all five stores were dark except for a single light burning in each. Nothing moved. At a rustle behind her she turned quickly to see the brown-striped cat slink past.

  She stayed close to the wall, her shoulder scraping the rough brick, as she tried to avoid being seen. Coming to the edge of the vacant lot, she barely saw the front bumper of Mac’s SUV. She scurried around the back of the vehicle, opened the door and eased onto the front passenger seat. The dome light didn’t turn on, leaving the interior of the car pitch-black. “I brought you a coffee.” She handed the travel mug across the console and waited till she felt Mac’s fingers slide across her hand.

  His voice came out of the darkness. “That wasn’t necessary.”

  “Maybe not for you, but I won’t be able to stay awake otherwise.”

  “All the more reason you should be home in bed.”

  Searching for a comfortable spot on the hard vinyl seat, Holly didn’t respond. At least here, in the darkened patrol car, her family wouldn’t be able to interrupt. Sipping coffee, she wondered how best to explain things. The muffled sound of a barking dog came through Mac’s partially open window. “Looks pretty quiet over there.”

  His voice equally low, Mac responded. “No way of knowing what time the burglaries happen. Could be just before dawn.”

  Glancing out the side window, Holly rested her cheek on the seat back. On the far side of the vacant lot a tangled mass of brambles almost covered a wooden fence. She and her neighbors had hoped to revitalize this end of town. If the burglaries continued, the strip mall across the street would look just like the vacant lot and the old library building: empty. “We should talk about—”

  “Your family treats you differently now.”

  Holly took a moment to process Mac’s comment. When his words sank in, her stomach stirred uneasily. “What are you talking about?”

  Mac, one hand still resting on the steering wheel, didn’t take his eyes off the building across the street. “You used to walk into the room and, no matter what they were doing, your family would focus on you.”

  “You’re crazy.” Holly shifted in her seat. She sipped from her travel mug. “You’ve been to one family picnic in ten years and suddenly you’re psychoanalyzing everybody? That’s some training you got in the police academy.”

  When Mac turned to face her she looked away. “I didn’t mean to touch a nerve, it’s just...” He did another finger exercise on the steering wheel. “When you were a kid, your family circulated around you.”

  “Oh, come on...”

  “If Chris had a choice between hanging out with the guys and watching one of your volleyball games, he and your whole family went to your game.”

  Holly met Mac’s gaze in the dim light inside the car. She just barely saw the spark in his eyes. “That’s why you were there. You wanted to hang out with Chris.”

  “Something like that.” Mac shrugged. “Maybe that’s why your family is treating you differently. Everybody protected you like the princess in the castle and now you come home and you’re a warrior.”

  Holly scanned the vacant lot again, more to avoid Mac’s look than to catch approaching burglars. Things hadn’t felt right since she came home at Christmas, but she thought she was just being paranoid. The fact Mac recognized a change in the family dynamics was disquieting. She decided to turn the tables on him. “Why didn’t you tell me your daughter was coming to live with you?”

  The immediate answer was just a heavy sigh.

  * * *

  “I DIDN’T THINK about it.” Mac laid his hand over the top of the steering wheel and flexed his fingers.

  “You didn’t think about your daughter?” Holly’s voice carried a note of incredulity.

  “Of course I thought about her.” Mac tightened his fingers around the wheel, then sighed. “I just didn’t want to talk about her.” Mac couldn’t blame Holly. Even he would admit it was strange for him to barely mention his daughter in all the times they had talked. How could Holly understand that if he didn’t talk about Riley, then he didn’t have to think about the past, and his part in his wife’s death? “Her grandparents were raising her. In North Carolina.”

  “I see.”

  Mac leaned forward, straining to see what had caused a shadow on the boardwalk near The Cookie Jar. He caught a glimpse of a long tail disappearing underneath the porch. Settling back into his seat, he raised the coffee to his lips. A dog barked, this time closer.

  “You know the kiss was a mistake.”

  “Which one?” He sipped his coffee and felt rather than saw Holly’s face jerk in his direction. Bringing up memories of their teen years was risky.

  Her voice was soft. “The last one.”

  So that’s what she’d meant by you know, Mac, I’ve been thinking. “Because now I have a daughter?” His left knee cramped and he shifted so he could stretch his leg.

  This time Holly sighed. “Look, Mac, we’re not kids anymore. Seeing your daughter made me realize we’ve both changed. We have responsibilities.”

  “You don’t want to have dinner?”

  “Come on, Mac, get real. You were at the picnic. I’m a danger to children. And you have one. Case closed.”

  Holly was facing forward, so Mac couldn’t read her expression. He could have sworn that her sister-in-law’s remark about not having children had hit a nerve. Yet he’d never expected her to agree with the family’s opinion of her maternal skills. “You don’t want to have a family of your own?”

  Holly sighed. “I met your daughter, Mac. We didn’t exactly hit it off. I’m just not one of those women.”

  “What women?” Was it the sudden appearance of his daughter, or had Holly never forgiven him for the fiasco in gym class?

  “You know, the kind who scrunch up their faces when they see a baby and start talking in a falsetto.”

  “But—”

  “Look at the cat.”

  Mac’s gaze jerked back to the storefront across the street. The brown tabby had reappeared on the porch and now paced back and forth directly in front of The Cookie Jar’s door. “What’s he doing?”

  Holly leaned forward to get a better look. “I swear he’s looking right at us.”

  “Well, if anyone plans to rob the place tonight they’ll give up once they see me. You stay here till I give the all clear.” He eased open his door and exited the car. Behind him he heard Holly’s door open. He should have saved his breath.

  Crossing the quiet street, he scanned the little strip mall. Nothing moved. Even the cat had stopped prowling and now sat at the top of the steps. Glancing over his shoulder, Mac frowned at Holly, who held up a set of keys.

  “Let’s check out The Cookie Jar.” She started past him.

  Mac grabbed the keys from her hand and held out his arm to stop her. “Stay behind me.” He slipped the key into the door.

  Before he knew what was happening Holly was kneeling on the floor next to a prostrate Sue. “Suzanna, talk to me.”

  Dressed in a loose nightgown, the older woman moaned.

  Mac knelt on Sue’s other side. He rested two fingers on the side of her throat. “Her pulse is strong. Mrs. Hunter, can you tell us what happened?” He helped her to sit up and supported her with an arm behind her back. One tear ran down the side of her face. “Brad wants a divorce, Holly. I thought he was just having a fling, but he doesn’t want to be married anymore. What do I do now?” Her words slurred.

  The cat slipped through the open door, rubbed against Mac’s leg and disappeared behind the counter. “What did you take, Mrs. Hunter?” Mac sneezed.

  “Sleeping pills. Brad came just when I was closing and told me they’re moving to Colorado.” Tears leaked through tightly shut eyes.

  Mac shot
Holly a look, wondering if they’d have to take her to the emergency room.

  “How many pills did you take, Sue?” Holly’s low voice carried a touch of panic.

  Sue groaned and attempted to rise before falling back to the floor. “Two.”

  “Two sleeping pills knock you out like this?” Mac met Holly’s incredulous gaze and smiled. Together they lifted the woman from the floor.

  The baker gave him a droopy-eyed glare. “I’m sensitive.”

  * * *

  THEY TOOK SUE back to the B and B and settled her in a second-floor bedroom—just beneath Holly’s room. Early the next morning, Holly tiptoed past the door but Sue was already up, still wearing her nightgown. “I’m sorry I got you involved, Holly. Just take me back to the store before anyone else sees me in my nightclothes.”

  Seeing Sue back to the little storage room above the bakery that served as her temporary residence caused Holly to be late opening the shop. A steady stream of customers ensured she never caught up. By the end of the day she was exhausted. Retreating to her room as soon as she got home, she found a movie on the television. Only then did she realize Mac hadn’t showed for their usual Saturday morning visit. Sunday was spent placing orders for supplies and, before she knew it, Monday rolled around.

  Walking down the street in the early-morning mist, Holly was certain Mac wouldn’t show. She wasn’t sure if she felt relief or disappointment. Reaching into her pocket for the keys, she froze at the sight of a dark object at her feet, then smiled. A dead mouse. The brown tabby had given her another gift. Kitty had had a busy weekend.

  Unlocking the back door, she found herself thinking about the stakeout and her declaration that anything beyond friendship was a mistake. Then she realized Mac hadn’t exactly agreed. Turning Mac down had been harder than she’d anticipated, but if the kiss on the mountain had taught her anything, it was that she could easily fall for the adult Mac McAndrews. Nick had been a better match for her than Mac, and that relationship hadn’t lasted. A relationship with Mac was destined for failure.

  She unlocked the front door and sighed. In the early-morning light, the chrome appliances gleamed and the comfortable leather furniture beckoned. She ran her fingers along the shining countertop, pleased with the knowledge that in four short weeks, she had created a home away from home, a retreat, for the inhabitants of her little town.

  She slipped her apron over her head and tied the strings in a bow. After making one pot of Wildflower Special Blend and one of Kenya, she set the timer for the peach tea to steep. Retrieving a bag of espresso beans from the back, she climbed up on the stool to refill the machines from the top. The pungent aroma of the freshly opened bag surrounded her and when the kitchen door swung open behind her she couldn’t look away from the steady stream of coffee beans. “Good morning, Louise. I thought you weren’t coming in until eight.”

  “She probably isn’t but I have an early trip.”

  At the sound of Mac’s voice Holly’s hand jerked and espresso beans flew over the counter and onto the floor. She righted the bag and the cascade of beans finally stopped. Behind her she heard coffee pouring into Mac’s cup. Holly let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding and wrapped her arms around the espresso maker. Her legs were no longer able to support her. She pressed her palm against her pounding heart and breathed deeply. “What are you doing here?”

  The lid snapped onto a take-out cup. “I’m getting my morning coffee.” Mac rounded the counter and strode to the door, where he looked out at the street as if expecting someone.

  Only then did Holly notice the tiny form curled up in a corner of the couch. “You brought your daughter?”

  “Mom went to an early exercise class. She told me she’d meet me here and take Riley home.”

  Clutching her blanket to her chest, Riley stretched out on the couch. “Grandma went to spam class.”

  Holly laughed. “You mean spin class.”

  “That’s what I said.” Riley turned her face toward the back of the couch in a huff.

  Standing on the stool, the bag of beans in her hands, Holly stared at Mac over the espresso maker. “What did I say?”

  He shrugged. “I guess she doesn’t like being made fun of.”

  “Sorry.”

  The girl’s only response was an angry wiggle.

  Something was off here... Holly stared at the small form on the couch. “You brought her out in her pajamas?”

  Mac frowned, then shook his head. “I thought she got dressed.”

  Holly swept the loose beans off the top of the machine, muttering, “Kind of obvious. Even I noticed.”

  “I thought you weren’t one of those women.”

  Holly’s head jerked up. “Even I can tell the difference between play clothes and pajamas.”

  Cup in hand, Mac stood waiting at the door. “You were right about the—” he glanced at the tiny body on the couch “—thing. We have different...goals.”

  Holly’s hands stilled. Here we go. She finished adding beans to the machine and replaced the lids. “We do.”

  No response.

  Chris blew through the door, almost knocking Mac over in his haste. “We’re off to Philly. Just need some caffeine for the road, sis.” His vacation jeans had been replaced by khaki pants and a navy blue shirt. Her brother stopped short and peered at the floor. “What are these beans doing all over the place?”

  Ignoring her brother’s question, Holly smiled at him. “The usual?” She spied Valerie following her husband at a more sedate pace. Harley lay sprawled over her shoulder. “Hi, Val.”

  Val mouthed a good morning and settled into a chair.

  Chris smoothed his hand over his gelled hair. “Can you make us a skinny vanilla latte and a skinny amaretto to go?”

  “Of course.” Holly climbed down from the stool and pulled nonfat milk from the refrigerator below the counter.

  Dressed in a pair of black yoga pants and a gray Penn State T-shirt, Mac’s mother rushed into the door. “I got here as soon as I could, son.”

  Mac glanced at his watch. “I’m late, Mom.”

  Wiping the back of her hand across her forehead, Erma propped her hands on her hips. “I was afraid something like this would come up. Why don’t you hire a sitter, John?”

  “We talked about this.” He reached for the door just as Wendy Valentine entered.

  “Chief McAndrews.” Wendy paused in her beeline for the counter. “I’ve been hoping I’d run into you.”

  Frothing milk at the counter, Holly saw Mac give the young woman a slow smile.

  And so it begins.

  “Daddy, wait.” Riley rolled off the couch and ran to her father. “Can I have a hug?”

  Shooting Wendy a grin, he gave his daughter a bear hug. Then he pulled a card out of his shirt pocket. “Give me a call.” With that he was gone. Shoulders drooping, his daughter returned to the couch.

  Poor kid. Holly’s heart went out to the little girl pulled away from the only home she’d ever known and tossed from one caregiver to the other like a hot potato. All the more reason for Mac to find someone who knew how to raise a child properly, someone who understood the mysteries of hot dog preparation.

  Their first meeting after she’d rejected him had gone better than she’d expected. Maybe even better than she wanted, she thought, remembering Wendy’s pretty, flushed face. The least he could have done was appear disappointed.

  She took another deep breath and straightened. She could do this. She could treat Mac McAndrews as an acquaintance, a family friend. She smiled, relieved to have the dreaded encounter behind her. Oh yes, she could do this. Just another day at The Wildflower. She went out onto the front porch to gather leftover cups and found the brown cat licking the dried foam from a mug. “Ah, you should have said something. You’re a cappuccino drinker.”r />
  The cat lifted his head, opened his mouth and meowed.

  Holly patted his head. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  THIS YEAR’S FOURTH OF JULY picnic was being held at the B and B because the meadow behind the house gave the best view of the fireworks set off at the amusement park. Having worked late on her books, Holly arrived home just in time to see the twins run screaming into the neighbor’s yard. “What’s going on?” Holly walked up to her father, who stood at the grill turning hot dogs and flipping hamburgers.

  Eyes twinkling, he gave her a grin. “The girls talked Sonny into getting a puppy for their birthday.”

  “Daisy had her puppies. Oh, I have to go look.” Her dad chuckled as he moved the meat around the hot surface. “What’s so funny?”

  “Sonny thinks he’ll get away with one dog for two girls.” He laughed so hard his belly shook.

  Reflecting on the fact that she’d just seen her father laugh for the first time since her shop opened, Holly followed her nieces through a hole in the hedge. Maybe he had finally accepted her decision. Daisy wandered over. Nudging her knee, the dog left a wet noseprint on her shorts. “Hi, girl, congratulations.” She rubbed the black Lab’s floppy ears.

  Rachel and Rosalyn knelt on the back patio, huddled around a basket. Holly peeked over their shoulders. On a pillow, eight black puppies crawled and mewed.

  “What do you think, girls?” Fran Collier sat on the back steps.

  Rachel pointed to a chubby black puppy crawling toward her. “Is this puppy a boy or a girl?”

  Fran inspected the pink-speckled belly. “This one’s a little girl.”