“Beau’s mommy and daddy were kissing.”
Lanie looked down to hide her amusement.
“Mommies and daddies kiss,” Luke said. He put down his fork and picked up Emma’s. “Taste the squash.”
Emma twisted her head away and raised her palms in the air. “You kiss Lanie. Then she’ll be the mommy, you’ll be the daddy, and I’ll be honeybee!”
“What?” Luke almost turned over his iced tea.
“Lanie can live at our house! She can sleep with me. I’ll scrunch down really little.” She drew herself into a little ball to show how small she could become. “And we can get a kitty! Beau has a kitty.”
Lanie ducked her head again.
Luke quickly spoke up. “Emma, Lanie cannot live with us.”
Didn’t he know that with three-year-olds, sometimes it was best to just let things drift away?
“Why?” Emma’s bottom lip began to protrude. “I like Lanie. We need a mommy. Beau has a mommy!”
“Lanie lives here, Emma. This is where she wants to be.”
“Not if we had a kitty!” Her lip began to quiver and two tears slid down her face. “Then she’d live with me.”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Luke said in a gentle voice. Reaching over, he pulled Emma into his lap. “She’s tired,” he said to Lanie. “We saw some of her little friends at the park and we went there. She only napped about ten minutes.” He pulled Emma’s plate toward him and picked up her fork. “You know what I think? I think you’re hungry. Eat some of this good mac and cheese that Lanie made for you. It’s the best I’ve ever tasted. Yes, that’s a good girl. Isn’t it good? How about some potatoes? You like mashed potatoes.”
“Uh huh.”
Lanie ate her own meal as she watched Luke cajole Emma into almost cleaning her plate, though no amount of coaxing could make her eat more than one bite of squash. All this could have been avoided if Luke had just been a little vague over the mommy thing — like he’d been about getting a cat. But he was a good father who just didn’t have enough of the answers. And really, did anyone have enough answers? Luke’s food was long cold by the time he’d finished feeding Emma.
“I want to give Lanie a kiss,” Emma said.
“And I want you to.” When Lanie leaned in for her reward, her cheek brushed Luke’s shirt and she was surprised at how warm he was and how good he smelled — like baby shampoo, coffee, and fresh air. She quickly pulled away and dropped a return kiss on top of Emma’s head.
“Can I have Belle now?” Emma asked.
Luke nodded. “If Lanie doesn’t mind.” He turned to Lanie. “I promised she could watch Beauty and the Beast tonight.”
“Can I, Lanie? Can I see Belle at your house?”
“Of course you can. Why don’t you get Daddy to put it on and I’ll get my special blanket and pillow for you — the ones I like when I want to snuggle down.”
After settling Emma in front of the television, Luke returned to the table and Lanie replaced his barely touched cold food with a fresh hot plate and poured herself a cup of coffee.
“You didn’t have to do that,” he said. “I haven’t had a hot meal in two years.”
“Then it’s time you did.” Lanie sipped her coffee. “And there’s banana pudding in the fridge.”
He smiled until his dimples became craters. The smile even made it to his bright blue eyes. “I thought you didn’t eat sweets.”
“I do, but only professionally. The pudding is all for you. I would have offered some to Emma but I think she was at the end of her patience with us and with food.”
“Who can blame her?” Luke laughed. It was brief and quiet but definitely a real laugh. “After all, we’re bad people, what with not letting you be the mommy and sleep in a toddler bed. I’d never heard of a toddler bed, but Lucy knew all about it.”
“She would. She’s very good and we’re lucky she wants to live in Merritt. She used to work at a very upscale firm in Atlanta.”
“I heard that. You’re good friends?” He looked wistful. For the first time, she wondered if he’d made any real friends since moving to town.
“Yes. Lucy, Missy, Tolly, and I are all good friends. Lucy says we’re like one big perpetual double date. She and Missy are a couple and Tolly and I are the other.”
“Tolly’s a good lawyer. Smart. And I don’t know what I would have done without Missy these last few weeks. She says picking up Emma and taking her home is no trouble. And I know she has a housekeeper but it has to impact her day to have another child underfoot.” He sighed. “I suppose I should apologize for Emma’s meltdown but I don’t get the feeling it ruined your evening.”
“Of course not. She’s barely three. It’s her job to have meltdowns. Would you like another pork chop?”
Luke started to shake his head no, but said, “Yes. I would. And some more mashed potatoes, if that’s okay.”
Lanie picked up his plate. “Anything else?”
“Not if I’m going to eat banana pudding, and I am. You have uncanny rapport with Emma. I had no idea what she was talking about in the store today when she wanted that colander. But you instantly knew she was going to use it for a bike helmet. I’m pretty bad at speaking toddler.”
“No you’re not,” Lanie said replacing his plate. “I’m just very good at it.”
He took a deep breath and started to speak, but instead took another bite of potatoes.
“What?” Lanie asked.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were about to,” she said.
“I still rock Emma to sleep.” He looked over his shoulder to where she lay on the rug on the living room floor. “Or most of the time I do. It seems she passed out without it tonight.”
“All that longing for a kitten will wear a girl out.” Lanie laughed.
“Do you think it’s normal?” Luke asked.
“To want a cat? I don’t know about normal but probably typical.”
“No. That I rock her to sleep.”
“Sure. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“When I had that last conversation with Mrs. Bumpus — if you can call it a conversation — she said I was afraid for Emma to be a little girl, that I’m trying to keep her an infant. She also said that’s why she isn’t toilet trained.”
“Do you believe that?”
“I’ve thought about it some. As far as the rocking, I like it, she likes it, so I think why not? But the toilet training — I can promise you there is nothing I like about wet Pull-Ups and not knowing whether to give in when she wants to wear ‘big girl panties.’ I just don’t know how to do it.”
“I think you should rock her as long as she’ll let you. Some nights I wish someone would rock me. As far as the toilet training goes — she’s only three. Sometimes very bright children are the last to be toilet trained. In a world where everything is decided for them, they know this one thing is in their power. And when you think about it, how smart is it to not interrupt your very busy important day when someone will clean you up and give you dry pants?”
Luke laughed. “My mother says no child goes off to college in a diaper.”
“Your mother’s right. Keep trying, but she’ll do it when she’s ready. Meanwhile, they’re not going to quit making Pull-Ups.”
“How did you learn all this?”
“I’m the oldest of five.”
“I remember you saying that. I can’t imagine.” Luke looked alarmed, probably picturing himself with five Emmas.
“My parents started slow but they caught up. I was six when my brother Brian was born. Two years later came my twin sisters. Then a year after that along came John, my little brother. I’m pretty sure he was a surprise.”
“Are you close to your siblings?”
“No, not really. Brian was twelve
when I left for Ole Miss and the others even younger. That’s a lot of age difference at that age.”
“You went to Ole Miss? When did you graduate?”
Oh, damn. Why had she brought that up?
“I didn’t. I almost got a teaching degree — early childhood education.”
Luke’s head popped up. “Almost? What does that mean?”
“Almost means nearly. I was less than a semester away from graduating when I left.”
“Why?” Luke asked.
Lanie shrugged her shoulders. “Why does a twenty-one-year-old do anything? Do you need some more tea?”
“No.” He covered his glass with his hand but didn’t change expressions. “Was it your grades?”
“No. My grades were good.”
“Then I don’t understand — ”
Lanie rose. “How about that pudding? And I’ve got fresh coffee.”
“Do you ever think about finishing?”
“No.” She set the pudding down in front of him and filled their coffee cups. “I make candy.”
Luke spooned a bite of pudding into his mouth. “Mmmm. This is so good. This might be the best food I’ve had in — well, I don’t remember when.”
Relieved that the subject of her academic career seemed forgotten, Lanie smiled. She had no wish to get into a story that would lead to the saga of all her failures. “I’ll be glad for you to take the leftovers home.”
“You really don’t eat the leftovers?”
“I really don’t.”
Luke narrowed his eyes and looked her up and down. “I like your clothes tonight.”
Lanie looked down at the plain white shirt tucked into her jeans. It wasn’t a date and she had made sure not to dress like it was.
“Thank you. You have Spartan tastes.”
“I guess.” He continued to look at her and bit his bottom lip. “Lanie, you have a lot of skills.”
“Thank you, I think,” she said. If only he knew that making candy was her only skill.
“Just because one thing doesn’t work out doesn’t mean there aren’t other opportunities.”
“I know that. I thought my life would be different but I love that I’m able to carry on the family business. I’m proud of it.”
“Uh, yes.” Luke raked his hand through his perfectly cut hair and a few curls sprang up. “But that wasn’t exactly what I meant. I meant if something ever went wrong with your business, something you couldn’t come back from, you’d have other possibilities. You could be a nanny.”
What? He wanted her to be a nanny? Not that there was anything wrong with that, but he was wishing — hoping — her business would fail. Her gut clenched. She was doing well, great, in fact. But she had failed at so many things, there was always that fear that she would fail again. It was one thing to fail at stained glass and court reporting, but this was her family’s business. He grandmother had entrusted it to her and every day she feared she’d ruin it. How dare he?
“Nannies make good money,” he continued, oblivious. “Not all of them, of course, but they can. I know what I’m willing to pay.”
Lanie got up abruptly, picked up Emma’s cup, and rinsed it.
“Do you know what I think? I think Emma is asleep for the night and she will rest better if you carry her to bed and change her clothes.”
“Lanie, I didn’t mean — ” Luke put his hands into the air, palms up. It was a gesture Lanie had noticed that Emma used.
“Besides, I have some things to do. It’s been fun, but let’s call it a night. Here.” She walked to where Emma had been sitting and removed her booster chair. “Let me help you.”
Luke sat wide-eyed for a second. Then he got up and silently began to gather Emma’s things.
By the time he approached the door with a sleeping Emma in his arms, Lanie was holding it open for him.
After she closed the door behind him, she threw away the leftovers.
CHAPTER SIX
What the hell had happened?
Luke lifted Emma over his shoulder, turned back the comforter, and placed her in bed. He considered only removing her shoes but that was too deep into the bad parent zone. On the other hand, he couldn’t risk her waking and demanding to go back to Lanie’s — because that clearly was not an option. He compromised by slipping off her overalls and covering her. If she woke later, he’d change her into pajamas and brush her teeth. If not, maybe child services wouldn’t learn he’d let her sleep in a Pull-Up and t-shirt — oh, and let’s not forget the perfectly symmetrical hair bow, tied by Lanie Heaven.
He went to fetch a beer from the refrigerator but changed his mind and poured two fingers of bourbon instead. He’d been careful about alcohol since the accident. He’d never had a tendency to drink too much but he’d seen tragedy turn better people than himself into drunks. He couldn’t afford that. At first he didn’t drink at all but, lately, he’d come to trust that he could have a drink without longing for another.
Damn. He wasn’t entirely sure why he had manipulated Lanie into asking them for dinner. Maybe because the menu sounded good. Maybe because he wanted some adult conversation in an environment where he was sure Emma would be welcome. Maybe because Lanie hadn’t been wearing those awful candy clothes and she’d looked prettier than he’d ever seen her.
But if he was going to be honest, he knew the real reason. As soon as he’s seen her in Big Starr, he hadn’t felt alone. And he wanted some more of that.
At any rate, he’d been enjoying himself. Even when Emma had become difficult, he had detected no annoyance at all from Lanie. It had pleased him more than it should have when she fixed him a fresh plate. And the simple comfort food had tasted better than anything he’d had since Carrie died. When he’d found himself confiding his misgivings about his parenting skills, he’d felt so comforted when Lanie reassured him. Sure, other people told him he was doing a good job, but he never quite believed them, always felt like they were trying to make him feel better. For some odd reason, he trusted that Lanie knew what she was talking about and that she would have had no compunction about telling him he needed to stop rocking Emma.
Then all hell had broken loose. He couldn’t even put his finger on exactly what had made her mad.
But by damn, he was going to find out. He knocked back the rest of the bourbon, picked up the baby monitor, and pounded on Lanie’s door. No answer. He pounded again. Still no answer. Maybe she was in the shop.
Sure enough, when he opened the stairwell door he saw light coming from the kitchen. She had her back to the door and she was beating a slab of fudge with a two-foot long spatula. She could have been a medieval warrior punishing fudge that had offended kingdom, crown, and God.
He waited for her to turn around. When she didn’t, he stepped around the counter to face her. She was still wearing the jeans and white shirt but had added a plain heavy canvas apron. Why couldn’t she dress like this all the time?
She frowned at him and said, “Where’s Emma?”
He held up the baby monitor. She frowned some more. He held it to her ear so she could hear Emma breathing. She nodded, albeit grudgingly.
“What do you want?”
“I want to know what I did to offend you.”
Whack, whack, whack, went the spatula against the fudge. “Well, let’s see.” She put one hand on her hip and let the spatula rest against the fudge. “You practically invited yourself to dinner, which I took as a sign that you might want to be friends. But it turns out you’re hoping my business fails so I can be Emma’s nanny!”
What? Where did she get that idea? “I do not hope your business fails. I was just pointing out that if it did, I think you’d make a good nanny. It was a compliment.”
“Oh, knock it off, Luke.” She slammed the spatula on the counter and put her other hand on her
hip. “I might not have finished college but I’m not stupid.”
Suddenly, he was a little mad. The punishment — her anger — didn’t fit his crime. Nobody ever went to jail for wishing someone’s business would fail. The rats in the chocolate would be another matter, but it’s not like he would have really done that.
“Well? So what? I’m having a hard time. You’re good with Emma. Great. Better than anyone since — well, even better than my mother. Is it such a sin to wish you could take care of her all the time? It’s not like my wishing is going to bankrupt you.”
“Friends do not wish ill on each other. What if I wished you would get thrown off the bench so you could be Phillip’s assistant?”
“Assistant? I am not anyone’s assistant! I could run that coffee bar better than Phillip on his best day!” She waved that spatula in the air. He noticed a wooden spoon that had to be a yard long lying on the counter. He picked it up, thinking he might have to parry a blow.
“Yeah, I’m sure of that!” she said sarcastically. “Especially if your coffee making skills are as good as your people skills!”
“And why are you pretending to date Nathan Scott when you’re not?” Why had he said that?
“What?” Her eyes widened and she spoke in a whisper. “Who told you that?”
“Nobody told me. I used my ears. I was sitting on the balcony that night when he brought you home and took your chicken. By the way, I appreciate you keeping him off my car.”
“You spied on me!” Her surprise turned to fury. She turned the spatula over in her hand, like it was a weapon.
“Don’t hit me with that. I’m a judge. You won’t get away with it.”
“I don’t give a monkey’s ass what you are and I don’t even have a monkey!”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“I don’t have to make sense. I’ve got five pounds of fresh fudge. I can rule the world.”
“Not in those candy infested clothes you wear all the time, you can’t. And the fudge probably has peanuts in it.”
“I knew it! I knew you blamed me for that attack.”
Sweet Gone South Page 10