Wanted--The Perfect Mom

by T. R. McClure

  Rachel cradled the whimpering pup in her arms. Long black ears trailed over her elbow. “I want this one.”

  “I want to pick. Who said you get to pick?” Rosalyn pushed out her lips in a pout.

  Rachel closed her eyes, giggling as the puppy nuzzled her neck. “He said we have to feed her, walk her and play with her.”

  Holly sat cross-legged on the patio and leaned against the porch wall. “Maybe you can talk your dad into two puppies.” She blamed her father for putting the idea in her head.

  Rosalyn’s face brightened. “Think so, Aunt Holly?”

  Holly reached for a tiny pup crawling away from the others and handed him to her niece, whose frown was instantly replaced with a smile. “Are they all spoken for?”

  Fran ran a hand through short, dark hair. “Not yet. We’re keeping one and giving the others away, but everybody wants dogs with papers these days. Daisy was scheduled to be fixed when I found out.”

  One of the pups crawled away from his sisters. Holly picked him up and settled him in her lap. “This one has a brown nose. Any brown male dogs in the neighborhood?”

  “Not that we know of. It’s a mystery, believe me.”

  “This is the only one with brown—” Holly ran the long, silky ears through her fingers “—and these ears practically drag on the ground.”

  “The others are all black like Daisy,” Rosalyn said.

  Holly looked up just as Mac appeared in the break in the hedge. Her heart sped up just a little and she wondered how long it would take until she could treat Mac as just a family friend. She gave him a tentative smile.

  Riley pushed past him. “Puppies.” Her squeal could have shattered glass. She sank down next to the twins. “Can I have one, Daddy?”

  Mac knelt beside his daughter and studied the pups. “I don’t think so, Riley.”

  “Please.” Riley picked up the smallest pup and held it, legs dangling, against her cheek. “Please, Daddy.”

  Mac rubbed a hand over his face. He cupped his daughter’s chin and gazed at her sternly. “You know we can’t. You might be going back to Grandma Liz’s house when school starts and then what would happen to a dog?”

  Riley tilted her head. “He could come with me.”

  Mac shook his head. “No way.”

  Riley was close to tears as she returned the squirming pup to the basket. She ran back through the hole in the hedge without saying a word.

  Holly patted the brown-nosed creature in her lap. “Back to the basket, little fella. Sorry.” She pulled on the long, silky ears and set him on the pillow. A shrill whistle rent the air. “That’s Dad. The burgers must be ready. Let’s go, girls.” Holly followed her nieces toward the hedge. She looked back. “Are you coming over, Fran?”

  Replacing the fence around the basket of puppies, Fran looked over her shoulder and nodded. “As soon as Mel changes out of his golfing clothes, we’ll be right over. By the way, I have some paperbacks for your bookstore.”

  “Thanks.” With a wave, Holly pushed through the hole in the hedge to find the family already crowded around the picnic table, where the food was set buffet-style. The grandchildren and Riley were already eating in the gazebo.

  Holly carried her plate to the patio table. “You don’t want me on kid-table duty. Look what happened last time. I think you’re up at bat, Sonny.”

  Sonny sat on the stone wall surrounding the patio, half a hamburger in his hand. “I’ll pay you,” he mumbled around the other half of the burger.

  Holly laughed. She set her chair rocking and picked up a glass of wine. “You don’t have enough money, bro.”

  “Sonny, go.” Carolyn pointed to the backyard, where the sound of children screaming carried from the gazebo. “They’re too far away to be left alone and three of those children are yours. Holly’s not a babysitter.”

  Sonny stuffed the other half of his hamburger into his mouth and quickly filled a plate from the array of dishes on the picnic table. “What’s going on back here?” His roar carried on the summer air, accompanied by the squeals of the children.

  Holly caught Carolyn’s eye as she smiled and picked up a bottle of wine, pouring herself a glass. “Who is he kidding? He loves it.” Another roar came from the direction of the gazebo accompanied by more squeals.

  After putting away the food, the family wandered to the field behind the house to watch the fireworks. Giggling and wrestling, the children sprawled on a blanket. Behind them, the adults sat in lawn chairs. Holly spread a blanket off to one side. When she saw Mac watching the children, she pulled on his sleeve. “Want to join me? You can keep an eye on Riley from here.”

  “Are you too good to sit with the rest of us?” Sonny’s voice boomed from the far side of the gathering.

  Holly waved in the general direction of his voice. In the gathering darkness she could barely see him. “Chairs are for old people.”

  “Thanks a lot,” her mother said.

  “Sorry, Mom. Present company excluded, of course.”

  “Of course.” Her mother threw a piece of hard candy at Holly and hit her on the foot.

  Unwrapping the candy and popping it in her mouth, Holly leaned back on her elbows and stared at the horizon. A practice rocket exploded, showering the darkening sky with red, white and blue sparks. “So what’s new?” The candy softened. Butterscotch. Her mother knew she liked butterscotch.

  “I took your advice.”

  Focused on the sky, Holly didn’t realize at first Mac had addressed the comment to her. Puzzled, she glanced over. “What advice?” She could just make out Mac’s profile. He, too, was watching the horizon.

  “I went out with Wendy Valentine.”

  Holly’s stomach flipped. “I never said—” She tore her gaze from his face for a sudden, necessary inspection of her decades-old, orange flip-flops.

  “You said we have different goals. I figured you realized my goal is to find a mother for my daughter.”

  “Oh.” The candy had lost flavor.

  “She’s interesting. But she’s just like you.”

  “She’s nothing like me.” Holly pictured the young professional in her mind. “For one thing, she dresses better than I do.” Holly forced a smile.

  “She’s ambitious like you were. She wants to move to a bigger station. She’s you ten years ago.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Remember when you and Chris used to talk about all the places you wanted to visit?”

  She nodded.

  “That’s where Wendy’s at. She graduated college and took a job in her hometown. But she wants the big time.” He threw her a sideways look, one corner of his mouth turned down. “Besides, she just wanted to interview me.”

  “Oh.” Holly wasn’t sure how to respond. So Wendy wanted to move on. Was she surprised? Not really. Was she glad? Maybe a little. She could’ve told Mac Wendy wasn’t a good candidate.

  “Then your mom told me the library hired a new director.”

  Holly bit her lip. “My mom?” She went from pressuring me to date to finding dates for Mac?

  “Yes. One morning I came in for coffee and your mom told me about Eliza.”

  Holly bit down on the remaining piece of hard candy and heard a satisfying crunch. “You’ve been busy.” Just over a month since the kiss in the meadow and he’d had dates with two different women?

  “I didn’t say I went out with her.”

  Not wanting to appear too interested in Mac’s social life, Holly remained quiet. One rocket. Two rockets. “Why not?”

  “I’m allergic to cats.”

  Carolyn had said the new library director was very pretty. Holly found it hard to believe the big, tough chief of police allowed a cat to get between him and his goal—a beautiful, smart mother for Riley. “You can�
��t be around one little ole kitty for an hour or two?”

  “Maybe one.” Mac shot her a look. “Not twenty-three.”

  Holly laughed out loud. “The new librarian has twenty-three cats?” She laughed again, wondering why the news made her feel so absolutely giddy.

  One of the twins walked over, followed by Riley.

  Riley sat on her father’s lap, her back toward Holly. She wasn’t surprised. Their brief encounters had, thus far, been less than friendly.

  Twisting her hands, the twin said, “Aunt Holly, can I ask you something?”

  Holly reminded herself of the differences between the twins. Freckles. That was it. Rosalyn had more freckles than Rachel because she spent more time outdoors. “Sure, Rosalyn. What’s up?”

  “Daddy said you’re a good rider. He said you used to take Twister to the fair.”

  “He did, huh?” Holly glanced at Sonny. “He’s right. Why do you ask?”

  Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Riley shift slightly in her father’s lap. Instead of her back, Holly could see the child’s profile. The ever-present quilt lay half in her lap and half on the ground.

  “Do you have time to teach me to ride?”

  “For lessons, Twister would be the best to learn on, but I haven’t ridden the old boy in a long time, Rosalyn.”

  The girl’s face fell. She turned to go back to the screaming children.

  Remembering her own efforts to convince her parents to let her take riding lessons, Holly ran through her weekly schedule. “Rosalyn?”

  Her face hopeful, the girl ran back to the blanket and knelt in front of Holly. “Yes?”

  “Tell you what. Let me give the old boy a test ride first. I’ll see what kind of shape he’s in, how much he remembers, and then we’ll talk. Okay?”

  The girl’s face lit up like the fireworks just starting over the horizon as she scampered back to the blanket and whispered in her twin’s ear.

  Riley jumped off Mac’s lap and followed her new friend. She stopped in front of Freddy and showed him her stuffed dog.

  “Freddy sure looks like his dad, doesn’t he?” Mac said. “He’ll probably play football like him, too.”

  “He’ll be a big boy.”

  Holly inclined her head toward Riley, who was chasing Freddy around the blanket, her ponytail bouncing. The stuffed dog was dragging over the ground. “I hope that’s no indication of how she’d carry a puppy around.” Riley’s giggle carried on the night air as she and Freddy walked their stuffed animals across the blankets.

  Mac’s expression darkened. “Riley doesn’t need a puppy. She needs a mother. Someone waiting when she gets home from school, someone to braid her hair.” He pressed his lips together.

  “You’re not exactly skilled at hair, are you?” Thinking of the girl’s tangled mop the morning Mac brought her to the shop in her pajamas, Holly looked pointedly at Mac’s short hair.

  He grunted. “Funny.”

  “Riley takes after her mother, doesn’t she?” When Mac didn’t answer, Holly turned and studied his profile. “She’s tall for her age, which she probably gets from you, but your hair is a darker blond.”

  She noticed a muscle in his jaw twitch. “Anne’s mother said Riley looked just like Anne when she was a baby.”

  Lowering her voice, Holly touched his arm. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

  Mac watched the kids, still hopping about, waiting for the fireworks set to music to begin. “I don’t expect you to understand. You have this perfect family.”

  His skin was warm underneath her fingers, but at his words she withdrew her hand. She wasn’t sure what her family had to do with anything. “All the same, I’m sorry. I can’t imagine—”

  A few miles away the first rocket went off, sending a shower of white sparks cascading into the air. Timed to match the explosions, music drifted across the valley. Some of the rockets exploded with a flash and a loud boom. Mac jumped at the first concussion.

  After the third boom Riley ran to her father and crawled into his lap, her stuffed dog clutched to her chest. Mac sat stiffly, one hand resting in the grass, the other wrapped loosely around the little girl.

  Holly studied the quiet group, their faces reflecting the lights from the exploding fireworks. Her parents sat next to each other in folding chairs. Married almost forty years, they still held hands.

  Sonny sat on the blanket, his long legs stretched out, leaning back against his wife’s legs. Thomas and Beth were beside them—another couple who’d married young.

  Holly and Chris had agreed their lives would be different. They’d both wanted to see the world, and she had followed her brother into the air force. Chris had gone on to earn a degree and become a pilot, while she had traveled the world. Now even Chris had married.

  So where did that leave her? She glanced at Mac and Riley. How had he phrased it? Someone waiting when she came home from school.

  She couldn’t see herself waiting at home with a glass of milk and a plate of homemade cookies. No, things were progressing exactly as they should.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE NEXT MORNING Holly found a note on the kitchen counter. Beth had gone into labor, Thomas had taken her to the hospital and Rose went to the farm to stay with the children. She made a pot of coffee for the guests and set out some muffins before walking down the street. Not even seven o’clock and already the temperature was in the seventies. She unlocked the door and entered the quiet shop, turning on the air-conditioning on her way to the kitchen. As usual, Mac was her first customer.

  By now he would walk into the store and help himself to the coffee. Usually he would perch on the stool at the end of the counter and the two would talk while Holly prepared for opening. This morning Mac took his cup over to the chairs, sat and stared out the window.

  As Holly uncovered the plates in the display case, she glanced at Mac. He’d greeted her upon entering the store but had said nothing since. “Are you okay this morning? Hasn’t the coffee kicked in yet?”

  Mac gave her a half smile. “You didn’t put decaf in the pot by mistake, did you?”

  “I hope not.” Holly shut the case and tossed the wrappers in the waste can.

  When the bell over the door jingled, Holly was surprised to see the blonde woman, briefcase in hand. “You’re up and about early.”

  Her lips curved in a gentle smile. “I have an early meeting. I enjoy your cappuccinos when I’m in town.”

  “Thank you.”

  Mac was staring at the woman with a look of almost shock on his face. Holly started when she remembered her own first impression of this woman. Rose had said she looked just like Mac’s wife. Tall, willowy, with pale blond hair.

  “Have a seat,” Holly said, “and I’ll bring your drink over when I’m finished.”

  She poured nonfat milk into a pitcher as the woman walked to her usual chair and smiled at Mac. He nodded and, when he thought she wasn’t looking, peered at her over the rim of his cup.

  Holly took the finished drink to her customer and set it on the table. “My name’s Holly, by the way.”

  “I’m Katherine King.”

  “This is our chief of police, Mac McAndrews. If you’ll excuse me, I have some tea to brew.” She left then. She couldn’t watch. The woman was perfect. Looked like Anne, thus Riley could easily pass for her daughter, and she was from the South. Mac liked Southern women.

  The two conversed, and Mac seemed more alive than when he’d first come in. Holly started when he appeared at the counter with his empty cup.

  “Have a good day, Holly.” He gave her a half smile, then nodded at Ms. King. “Ma’am.”

  “You too, Mac.” Holly leaned on the counter. Mac crossed the street to his patrol car. He said a few words to the bank president before driving away.
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  Something had changed in Mac and she had the feeling it had to do with their discussion of Riley’s mother. Holly shook her head. If their talk was any indication, he was still having a hard time getting over the loss of his wife. Ms. King just might be the answer.

  “Extra large double Americano, Holly.” Ponytail swinging, Megan rushed through the door and slammed her Wildflower mug on the counter. “I’ve got three perms today.”

  The door hadn’t closed behind Megan before Cheri rushed in. “Make that two.” She slid her mug across the counter to Holly, who just managed to catch it before it landed on the floor. “Hey, did one of you open my boxes by mistake? The delivery guy left a shipment out back and when I got here this morning they were all open.” She ran a hand through her curly hair.

  “Of course not.” The hairdresser grabbed biscotti from a jar on the counter and gave Cheri an appraising look. “Were they on the porch or in the alley?”

  Cheri tossed her head, setting her silver hoop earrings swinging. “Right outside my front door.”

  “They were open when I arrived. I couldn’t believe you were here so early.” Holly set their drinks on the counter.

  Cheri threw her head back and laughed out loud. “Guilty as charged. You know I’m a night owl.”

  “Chief McAndrews asked me if I was missing anything. I wonder if someone’s supplementing their income at our expense.” Megan handed Holly a pocketful of change. “I’m barely making ends meet as it is.”

  “If you see our handsome police chief send him my way.” Cheri smiled and wiggled her eyebrows.

  “Isn’t he a little young for you?” Holly kept her tone casual, but the idea Cheri was checking out Mac irritated her.

  “Honey, once you’re over thirty, age doesn’t matter.” She grabbed her cup and backed toward the door. “By the way, one of the boxes was full of polo shirts. You interested?”

  Holly squinted. “Why would I be interested in polo shirts?”

  “I thought you might want to have a consistent look for your staff.” Cheri exchanged a look with Megan. “But no biggie... If you want them, stop over. If not, I’ll just put them out for sale.” The door clanged shut behind her.