A Father for Jesse

by Roth, Ann

  “This morning it couldn’t come soon enough.” Crossing the porch beside him, she sighed. “Jess and I had another fight. He doesn’t want the bus to drop him off at the library after school. He says it’s uncool and that I should let him stay home alone. I’m not ready for that, and regardless what he thinks, he isn’t, either.”

  “I hear you. Leaving kids on their own for hours after school is tempting trouble. When I was growing up, you wouldn’t believe how much I hung out at the Halo Island Library. All those books to read and teach me new things? Ian and Brian spent a lot of afternoons there, too, while I worked. I remember a great after-school program they always talked about.”

  “Apparently that’s been canceled,” Emmy said. “One of my new responsibilities is to get a new program up and running and make certain it’s successful. With all the kids sure to participate, I’m hoping Jesse makes a friend or two.” She gave Mac a thoughtful look. “Maybe I’ll ask your brothers how the program worked when they were in school and get their input. Do you think they’d mind?”

  The way they felt about Emmy? Mac shook his head. “Not at all. I’ll put in a good word about the library to Jesse. If I’d known, I’d have said something Saturday.” The kid had stopped by and watched Mac work for a while, before Emmy had called him to lunch.

  “Would you? That’d be wonderful.” As she stood at the front door, her eyes shone. “Especially coming from you. He respects you so much, he might even listen.”

  An apt reminder that the boy needed a man’s guidance. Mac wasn’t that man and didn’t want to be, but the thought of some other guy filling the role didn’t sit well, either. Unwilling to consider what this might mean, he curled his hands into fists. “Bring him with you when you lock up tonight. I’ll talk to him then.”

  “Okay, but I should warn you that I don’t get off till six. If you don’t want to wait around, that’s okay. I’ll bolt the door when I get home.”

  With his deadline? “I’m sure I’ll still be here.”

  “Great, and thanks again.” She pulled the key from her pocket.

  With her eyes bright and warm and her mouth curled in gratitude, she was beautiful and beyond tempting. “Anything for you.”

  Hardly aware of his actions, he touched her face, trailing his fingers down the soft curve of her cheek. He traced her jawline and the smooth column of her neck. Felt her pulse bump. Breathed in her lemony scent. He’d never wanted a woman so much.

  She swallowed and her glossy lips parted. It had been almost a week since he’d stood this close, smelled her and touched her skin—more than a red-blooded man in lust could take. His body went haywire.

  “We shouldn’t,” she whispered, reading his mind.

  The desire on her face only fanned his own need. “You’re right, we shouldn’t. But we’re going to.”

  Her eyelids fluttered shut, the lashes dark against her pale skin. The key clattered against the wood porch floor, the sound ricocheting through the roar of desire in Mac’s head.

  What was he doing? Kissing Emmy again was way too risky, yet here he was, almost beyond caring. More rattled than he’d ever been in his life, he let her go and staggered back.

  Her eyes popped open. They radiated confusion.

  “As badly as I want to kiss you again, I won’t do it,” he said, his voice raspy with need.

  Blinking, she touched her lips with her fingers. “I’m glad one of us can think straight,” she agreed, the yearning expression belying her words.

  And that was the problem. They both wanted more. A lot more.

  Emmy pulled the lapels of her coat together. “It isn’t smart to kiss each other. It’s good that you stopped.”

  Good? Try hell. Mac retrieved the key. He thought about handing it to Emmy, but didn’t. Touching her was too damned dangerous. He unlocked the house himself and left the key in the door.

  Her fingers trembled as she removed it.

  “Good luck with the library,” he said, scraping his boots on the welcome mat.

  “Thanks. Jess and I will see you late this afternoon.”

  He actually looked forward to her bringing the boy. The kid didn’t know it, but he’d play the much-needed chaperone.

  The Rutherfords were due home tomorrow. Couldn’t be too soon.

  FIFTEEN MINUTES after almost kissing Mac, Emmy pulled into the library’s small, paved parking lot. Luckily traffic was light and she knew the way. She was too discombobulated to pay much attention to driving.

  She’d just about convinced herself that she didn’t want to kiss Mac again. Until he touched her face and gazed into her eyes with burning focus. Then she’d forgotten about everything except Mac and her desire. She couldn’t ever remember wanting a man this way, and the feeling unnerved her.

  Starting something with him was unwise, but in matters of the heart she never had been one for logic and reasoning. And around Mac she couldn’t think straight to begin with. Though he was leaving soon, she wanted a relationship with him. There was no use worrying about Jesse getting attached. He already was.

  So was Emmy. Thank goodness Mac had backed away. As she’d told him, one of them had to take control. It was a good thing her job started today. She was sure to be way too busy learning her way around the library and her new duties to think about Mac and this morning.

  The library didn’t open until ten, ninety minutes from now, but Sally Dorman, Emmy’s new boss, had called an all-staff meeting to welcome her. There were three cars besides Emmy’s in the lot, meaning she was the last to arrive. Light blazed cheerily through the windows of the one-story brick building. Her stomach in knots, purse and sack lunch in hand and ducking her head against the fine drizzle, Emmy dashed for the heavy, wood door. She knocked. Seconds later Sally gestured her inside.

  “Hello, Emmy.” The neat, compact, fiftysomething woman, who was about the age of Emmy’s mother, smiled more warmly than Emmy ever remembered her mom smiling. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Thanks. So am I.” Emmy glanced around the pale blue walls. Libraries everywhere were much the same and she’d been interviewed here. The familiar bookshelves and stacks eased her shaky nerves.

  “We’re meeting in the staff room, behind the biography section. Follow me.” Sally led the way past the fat beanbag chairs and stuffed animals grouped around the children’s area. “All settled in?”

  “Pretty much.”

  They passed through a doorway and into the staff room with its bulletin board, coatrack, refrigerator, microwave and coffeemaker. The other two employees were seated at the rectangular table in the middle of the room. “You remember Patty Fisher and Mason Jones from the interview,” Sally said.

  Patty, who Emmy guessed was in her early forties, and Mason, a round, balding man of about sixty, nodded and smiled. Both worked part-time, sharing the evening and Saturday shifts. Sally and now Emmy were the only full-time employees.

  Returning the greetings, Emmy sat down at the table. She couldn’t help noticing the bright pink box of doughnuts bearing the label Mocha Java. A cute little bakery café she’d driven past several times, but hadn’t visited yet.

  “I’ve worked here almost thirty years,” Mason said. “That’s ten years longer than Sally and fifteen more than Patty. I know I’m not alone in saying that we’re happy to have you and your fresh energy in here.”

  “Amen.” Patty smoothed her turtleneck pullover, a bright blue that set off her fair skin and dark hair.

  They seemed as friendly as they had during the interview, and Emmy felt warm and welcome. She was going to like working here.

  Sally nudged the doughnut box toward her. “These are heavenly. Help yourself. While we eat, we’ll review the break and lunch schedules and discuss the after-school program.”

  As Emmy lifted the lid of the box, the scent of fresh-baked treats made her salivate. The chocolate doughnut she chose was still warm to the touch.

  “Be warned, those things are addictive,” Mason said. “Since Sally s
tarted bringing them to our weekly staff meetings, I’ve had to let my belt out a notch.”

  “Haven’t we all,” Patty said, helping herself.

  Sally winked at Emmy. “Any time you want me to stop buying them, just say the word.”

  “Deprive us? Never!” Mason looked appalled, and everyone chuckled. “You’ll see, Emmy.”

  Emmy bit into the doughnut. Flavors exploded in her mouth, and she made a sound of pure enjoyment. Earning more laughs.

  “Delicious,” she proclaimed, already planning to take Jesse to the Mocha Java on Saturday morning. Maybe start a mother-son tradition.

  After several minutes spent chatting, nibbling and reviewing the schedules, the talk turned to the after-school plans.

  “We’re thrilled that you’ll be restarting the program,” Patty said. “The last one ended five years ago when Jenny Standish retired. With so many latchkey kids on the island, we really need something.”

  “My son, Jesse, is one of them, so I have a vested interest,” Emmy said. “He’s in fifth grade and will be here this afternoon, so you’ll get to meet him. I have a few ideas, but if any of you have suggestions, please share.” She pulled a notebook and pen from her purse.

  “You want to bring children in and keep them coming back,” Sally said. “All kids love computers. That’s a good place to start.”

  Mason brushed his mouth with a napkin. “I vote for regular storytellers who appeal to all age levels.”

  “Yes,” Patty said. “And maybe offer various creative activities. Within limits, since this is a library and not an arts center.”

  All good suggestions Emmy jotted down. “I just learned that two men—they’re twins—working on a renovation across the street from my house used to come to the after-school program. I thought I’d ask them what they’d liked.”

  “Great idea.” Sally pushed the now-empty doughnut box aside. “You must be talking about Ian and Brian Struthers.”

  “How did you know?”

  “I think they’re the only male twins on the Island.”

  “From what I remember,” Mason said, “they were good boys and big readers.”

  “They still are,” Patty said. “Since they graduated college and moved back here, they’ve both come in when I’ve been working to check out books.” She arched her eyebrows at Emmy. “If you’ve met Ian and Brian, you probably also know Mac. He’s a big library user, too.”

  Emmy knew him, all right. Knew the feel of his arms around her and the warmth of his lips eagerly claiming hers. The aching desire to kiss him again—and more—flooded back. Flustered that she was thinking about Mac that way now, she managed a calm nod. “Yes, I’ve met him.”

  “After their parents died, Mac raised his brothers, you know,” Sally said. “Such a tragic story, and such strong, brave kids.”

  Mason and Patty gave sympathetic nods.

  Emmy wasn’t surprised they knew about the Struthers family. On Halo Island, people cared about each other. The three librarians were looking at her, clearly waiting for a comment.

  “Mac told me about that,” she said.

  “He did, did he?” Sally looked thoughtful. “That Mac Struthers brought up those boys and likes books is attractive in itself. And he’s so good-looking.”

  “I know.” Patty sighed. “I tell my husband he’s lucky I’m in love with him or I’d be after Mac.” She laughed. “Even if I am a good ten years older.”

  “Ladies, please.” Mason rolled his eyes at Emmy. “If he knew what these two said about him, he’d never set foot in this library again.”

  “Then he’d better not find out.” Sally shook a warning finger at him, her teasing smile taking away any sting. “What I find impossible to believe is that he’s still available. In my opinion, any single woman who isn’t interested in Mac Struthers is out of her mind.”

  The trio scrutinized Emmy as if checking on her sanity. They certainly were a nosy bunch.

  “He can’t get involved,” she said, feeling an odd need to defend him. “He’s leaving soon to travel and then go to school.”

  “That’s just an excuse.” Sally waved her arm in a dismissive gesture. “I went to college years after I got married, and still managed to work part-time and raise my two boys while I earned my degree. Mac could do the same. And another thing. Who says he needs to travel alone? But he’s a smart one. Once he finds the right woman, he’ll figure all that out.”

  Though no one glanced at Emmy, she felt as if the words were meant for her. Face burning, she bent over her notebook, pretending to jot something down.

  AS EMMY SHRUGGED into her coat, said her goodbyes and left the library with Jesse at the end of her first day, she felt good, but also tired and hungry. And cranky. So was her son. Regardless, she was determined to enjoy the short drive home.

  While pulling out of the parking lot, she struck up a conversation. “I love this library, and the other librarians seem nice, don’t you think?”

  “I guess, but there aren’t many kids around. If I stayed home by myself, I’d have more fun.”

  Refusing to get sucked into the same old argument, she ignored the comment and forced a cheerful note. “At least you finished your homework.”

  “I had to. With other people hogging the computers there was nothing else to do.”

  “You could always check out a book or a magazine. You know, read.”

  “Yeah, I know, Mom. But books aren’t the same as friends.”

  “They can be. When I was a little girl—”

  “Books kept you from feeling lonely,” he finished, rolling his eyes. “You only told me that a billion times.”

  Patience thinning, Emmy hurried on. “Anyway, once the after-school program starts, I guarantee there’ll be loads of kids here. Probably some from your class.”

  “I don’t like any of them,” Jesse grumbled. “And they don’t like me.”

  Emmy’s heart ached for him. “They just don’t know you yet.”

  After a full week of school, her son had yet to make a single friend. At least he was dressing decently. Instead of gang T-shirts and too-baggy jeans, he now wore T-shirts with movie or cartoon drawings, and jeans or cargo pants that actually fit. All he needed was an extra push. The after-school program would help, Emmy hoped.

  “Brian and Ian used to come to the library after-school program,” she said.

  “They did?”

  She nodded. “I’m going to talk to them about it, right after I pop tonight’s dinner into the oven.” Over the weekend she’d made and frozen a pot of stew and enough casseroles to last the entire workweek, which gave her more evening time to spend with Jesse.

  “Mac really likes the library, too.” Her headlights hit the Beach Cove Way sign, and she slowed and signaled. “Wow, we’re almost home. Already.” The short, easy drive was worlds different from the nearly one-hour traffic-congested commute in Oakland.

  As Emmy rounded the curve, the lone streetlight at the far end of the cul-de-sac silhouetted her own dark house and the bright lights of the Rutherfords’. Ian and Brian were ambling toward their truck, obviously finished for the day. If she hoped to talk with them before they left, warming up dinner would have to wait.

  The instant she braked to a stop in the driveway, Jesse’s seat belt slid apart. He opened the door.

  “Wait,” she said, but he was already loping across the street.

  Emmy followed with fresh worries. Jesse was getting far too attached to Mac and his brothers, and there wasn’t a thing she could do about it.

  Her son knocked, then disappeared through the front door, where judging by the light, Mac was still working. Knowing she’d see him in a few moments filled Emmy with giddy anticipation, but because she only expected a hello and goodbye and she needed to talk with Ian and Brian, she turned away from the light and hurried toward the truck.

  “Don’t leave just yet,” she called out.

  “Hey, Emmy.” Ian, who was texting on his phone, closed it and gr
inned. “What’s up?”

  “How was your first day at the library?” Brian asked.

  “Great, thanks. Listen, I’m putting together a new after-school program and since you’re veterans of the old one, I’d like to pick your brains.”

  “Anytime,” Ian said.

  Brian nodded. “Just say when.”

  “How about tomorrow night? Come for dinner at six-thirty.” She’d defrost all the stew—thank goodness she’d frozen enough for several meals—and during lunch break tomorrow, pick up bread and salad fixings.

  Brian rubbed his hands together. “You’re on.”

  “What should we bring?” Ian asked.

  “Just yourselves and a willingness to talk.”

  The men said their good-nights and slid into their seats. Seconds later the truck pulled onto the street.

  As Emmy moved toward the steps of the Rutherfords’ house, her cell phone rang. The LED identified the caller as Tom Rutherford. He and Melinda were due back tomorrow.

  “I’m about to lock up your house,” Emmy said after they exchanged greetings. “I’ll bet you can’t wait to see what’s going on in your kitchen.”

  “Mac forwarded some photos, which helps.” Tom cleared his throat. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to postpone seeing the real thing. How do you feel about taking care of the house a while longer? Melinda’s uncle needs us to stay, and we figure we’ll be here at least another two weeks.”

  Two more weeks of facing Mac twice a day. Filled with misgivings, Emmy climbed the steps. “If you’d rather, I could give Mac the key,” she said.

  “Melinda prefers that you hold on to it. Is that a problem?”

  Only for her heart, which seemed to care more every time she saw the man. “None at all,” Emmy said.

  “You’re a lifesaver. Everything okay with the cottage?”

  “Just fine. I painted the whole interior. I think you and Melinda will like the change.” The cottage was so much brighter and cheerier now.

  “I’m sure we will. We’ll be in touch.” Tom disconnected.

  Mac needed to know about the Rutherfords. Emmy knocked, and when no one answered, opened the door. For some reason hesitant to go inside, she stood on the threshold. The smell of new wood filled her nostrils. Bright light from the bare bulb hanging from the kitchen ceiling cast deep shadows across the kitchenwares piled everywhere.