Doorstep daddy

by Cajio, Linda

  "I hope you don't mind," he said belatedly, as if he'd just realized he'd made a mistake.

  "Oh, no, I don't mind," she replied. What else could she say? Hey, buddy, if you 're looking for sex, don't bring the kids? She wasn't looking for sex, but it had been more than a year since her last date, and it would be nice if a man was looking for anything personal from her. Her feminine self-esteem needed a wallop. With a forced smile, she added, "Kids are fun."

  "Good." He looked relieved. Callie decided that wasn't a bad thing between a man and a woman on a first date. "I've made a reservation at the White Dog Cafe in the city."

  Callie had been to the upscale bistro, hardly a place for kids. Disaster would be a mild word for their date if the date weren't headed away from the pass right now. "The White Dog's a great place, but I think Jason and Mark would be bored there. How about a Chuck E Cheese, instead?"

  "Oh." Richard blinked as if the lightbulb of a great realization had just come on. "You don't mind?"

  "No. We'll save the White Dog for another time." If they had another time, she thought. And they'd do it without the kids.

  Richard took out a cell phone and called to cancel the reservation. He also called home and talked to Amanda.

  "I won!" Jason shouted.

  "Hurray!" Callie said. "And besides your trophy, you'll get a free dinner at Chuck E Cheese. Right now."

  "Oh, boy!" Jason beamed. "Can I have pizza and a hot dog?"

  "Sure. I think I'll have that, too." When in Rome.

  "We better change Mark first," Richard said as the youngest Holiday made his familiar announcement once again.

  Callie sighed. What a date.

  Chuck E Cheese was mobbed, three raucous birthday parties not helping matters.

  "I think I should have called in a reservation here," Richard said ruefully.

  "Don't worry," Callie told him while snagging Jason before he could run off and explore. "It clears out fast. My sister Helena brings her kids here all the time. She's got three boys and is more down-to-earth than Gerri." She chuckled. "That's not saying much, but Helena's on the mark about kiddie restaurants."

  "Shall we find a table, then?" he suggested with Cary Grant aplomb.

  He could have been Cary Grant, Callie decided when they reached the after-dinner soda stage. Or Tom Hanks, only cuter. Richard had that same ability those two men had to calmly accept the unexpected. Unfortunately he did call Amanda every few minutes, just to check on her. The poor girl must be ready to strangle him, Callie thought in amusement.

  They kept an eye on Mark and Jason, who were with other children in the restaurant's play area nearby. The noise level was horrendous, but Callie pushed it to the background as best she could.

  "I killed her babies," Richard said. "I think she hates me.

  Callie gasped. "I beg your pardon?" "Those virtual-baby-pet things," he explained. "Amanda got in trouble for taking them to school, so she handed them over to me and I...1 forgot to feed them when they beeped.''

  "Oh, Lordy," Callie said in sympathy for the drubbing he no doubt got.

  "She screamed at me and burst into tears," Richard added. "I don't know why she always does these histrionics. It's just a game."

  "Maybe her reaction has to do with losing her parents," Callie told him. "Maybe the game symbolizes her ability to keep her parents from dying. Maybe she doesn't want anything else to die."

  His beleaguered expression cleared. "I never thought of that. I bet you're right. What a doofus I am."

  Callie giggled. "I haven't heard that word in ages."

  "What else describes an old idiot?" He shook his head. "I'll talk to her tomorrow, although I have no clue how I'll keep up with her virtual pets and Mark, too." He ran a hand through his hair. It fell back into perfect place. "I'm so behind with my own stuff now."

  "Have you considered day care?" she suggested wryly. "A couple of hours a day might help you."

  "We had problems with that before," he replied dubiously. "I gave up on it, along with au pairs and housekeepers."

  Callie shrugged. "You'll work it out."

  "I hope. Amanda's so moody all the time. She cries about everything."

  "Women," Callie murmured dryly.

  He chuckled. "Okay, so I'm a crumb in the women's pages."

  "Amanda probably thinks so." Callie wondered if the girl's weepiness had a simple physical cause. She decided to be blunt; the man needed help, after all. Tons of it. "Has she gotten her period yet?"

  Richard's jaw dropped in clear astonishment. "Oh, God. I don't know."

  "'Atta guy," Callie said, shaking her head, mildly exasperated with men's ability to stick their heads in the sand. "I'm sure you would know. After all, somebody's got to buy things at the store for her needs. But a girl's hormones go nuts in the months before her period starts, and sometimes they get very weepy about everything. She probably can't figure out what's wrong with her, either."

  Richard rubbed his forehead. If he felt as overwhelmed as he looked, he was in deep trouble. "This is women's territory."

  "Oh, no. You don't get off the hook with that, buddy. This is parents' territory," Callie countered, looking him straight in the eye. Kids screamed and raced all around them. She ignored the chaos. "Talk to her about this, too. Tomorrow, Richard. She's probably scared to death something will happen and she has to cope alone. I'd apologize profusely for the virtual pets, while I was at it A little humbling goes a long way."

  He reached across the littered table and took her hand. His was warm and strong as it closed around her fingers, sending bursts of heat along her veins.

  "I will. Thanks for listening, Callie. I don't know what the hell I'm doing raising kids - but they've got no one else."

  Callie swallowed around a suspicious lump of sympathy. This man was helpless, hopeless and sexy. She could be a goner if she allowed herself. "You'll be fine."

  "Not without your help. You're a great date."

  A scream of pain erupted from behind them.

  Callie wryly noted how Richard dropped her hand like a hot potato even as they both rushed to soothe Mark, who was crying. Richard picked up the toddler and awkwardly patted him on the back. Callie pressed her hand over Richard's and rubbed Mark's back with him. Mark quieted.

  "I didn't do it," Jason said.

  Callie focused on him. "That's an interesting thing to say."

  Jason looked shamefaced. "Maybe I pushed him, but I didn't mean to."

  Richard said in a stern tone, "You have got to be more careful. He's just a baby."

  "But I didn't mean to!" Jason wailed, beginning to cry.

  Callie sighed. Dumb male strikes again. She rubbed Jason's back, just as she'd helped Richard do to Mark's, a pure calm comfort gesture. "Hey, it was an accident. Everyone has them, Jay, and Mark's not broken. But when big guys like you are playing around the rug rats, you've got to be a little less like speed demons, okay?"

  Jason nodded, sniffing back his tears. When he regained his eight-year-old macho male dignity, Callie patted him one last time. She'd done this sort of thing so many times with her brother and sisters, soothing kids and making them happy, she could do it in her sleep.

  "Go hug your brother and tell him you're sorry," she said. "When we make mistakes, we have to make up for them, too."

  Jason went to Mark. Richard squatted down while holding Mark, and Jason made a nice apology to his little brother. Mark reached out and hugged Jason. The adults sighed at the sweetness of it.

  "Well-done, Jay," Callie said. "You're a good kid."

  Jason grinned. "Can I play skee-ball now?"

  "Sure. I'll spot you a dollar for games and bet you fifty cents that I win."

  Jason laughed and took her hand, dragging her to the skee-ball machines.

  "I'm going on a hot date with your nephew, just so you know where he is," she said over her shoulder to Richard.

  He grinned. "Don't corrupt him too much." "Pooh! You're no fun."

  As she skillfully
managed to lose three games, she chatted with Jason about school, which he liked and hated, the latest toys, which he wanted, and video games, which she wanted. She was aware of Richard watching her. It felt good to have a man's gaze on her body. A sudden wave of heat washed over her that ignited her long-dormant senses. She hadn't realized how much she needed to feel like a woman. Richard gave her that feeling with a glance. This might not be the date she wished for, but she'd found a deep satisfaction from it. Unexpected, she admitted wryly. Maybe she had a little Cary Grant in her, too.

  Yet she wanted a monastic life - temporarily maybe, but remaining uninvolved was a necessity for her right now. She'd been responsible for so many for so long, and she'd finally achieved freedom to do what she needed for herself. It wasn't selfish; it was survival. Her dream of college would wither if she got involved with someone, let alone someone with kids. Others would have demands on her time again, and she would sacrifice herself once more. She had to be strong for herself for a while. That was all. Maybe this group date was the best kind of date, light and casual and,, above all, friendly. No future implied.

  Mark was practically asleep in Richard's arms after skee-ball. Callie had paid her losses to that slick shooter, Jason. Jason looked happy - and nearly out of gas. "Time to go," she said.

  "I got the message," Richard said, nodding at the dozing toddler he held.

  "I won, Uncle Richard." Jason held out his take, a dollar and a half.

  "Wow. Dinner's on you. Just kidding. Congratulations, although I ought to yell at Callie for teaching you how to gamble."

  Jason grinned at his uncle, clearly forgiving him for his earlier reprimand.

  As they walked out, Richard said, "You're a sensational date."

  Callie grinned, very pleased he thought so. "Thank you."

  "And you're a good friend."

  Her pleasure faded as a strong, more tender emotion surfaced. Be careful, she told herself. "I'm happy to help."

  "I think you're my guardian angel. You've saved me tonight from a lot of future torture. I hope."

  He repeated the "guardian angel" sentiment at her apartment when he dropped her off. It pleased her until she realized he wasn't walking her inside for a goodnight kiss. Logic told her he couldn't leave two young children alone in a car, even for a few minutes.

  He did cover her hand with his. "I'll call you."

  She smiled. "Good night, Richard."

  His fingers squeezed hers, as if sending her that kiss he couldn't physically give. "Good night."

  In her bed later Callie found herself as dreamy-eyed as if he had kissed her senseless. Get a grip, girl, she thought, shaking off the gooey feeling. The guy brought kids on a first date, a nightmare signal in any self-respecting woman's book of prospective mates. And any self-respecting woman would have run for the hills.

  She was running. Now if only she hadn't had such a good time beforehand.

  "that's all of it."

  Richard stood in the huge hangar-warehouse as trucks waited to pick up fruit from Malaysia. USDA inspectors swarmed over the boxes before finally releasing the shipment. In his capacity as Malaysia's local representative, Richard signed off on the paperwork while ignoring Mark's grunts to get the stroller moving. He had no other choice but to bring the boy with him as he got the Southeast Asian country's merchandise pushed as quickly as possible through the system.

  "Okay, kid, we're off," he told Mark, turning the stroller toward the entrance. He waved his hand, motioning the trucks to move in.

  Mark screamed happily at the vehicles, calling them by name. Only he didn't quite get the word right.

  "Trucks, Mark, with a T" Richard corrected firmly as the warehousemen nearest them roared with laugher. "Trucks."

  Tucks!'' Mark shouted.

  "Close enough, my friend." Richard decided he had handled that Callie's way - with humor, not outrage or admonishment for perfection. He could live with "Tucks." Boy, could he live with it.

  He'd had that talk with Amanda about the virtual pets and about her life changes. She'd blushed furiously, and he'd been embarrassed, too, but he'd also tried to be as easy and matter-of-fact as he could. He didn't think he'd made too much of a mess. Amanda had seemed better since, controlling her outbursts.. .well, toning them down a bit. And maybe that was because she now had some insight into the cause of her behavior. All thanks to Callie.

  He wanted to see Callie again to talk about her this time. She had mentioned night classes, but they'd never got around to talking of them on their date. They'd never got around to a lot of things. He intended to make up for that.

  He would call her for another date as soon as he got home. And he would see her at the housewarming her sister was giving him. That would be great.

  Chapter Three

  "We're so honored to have a diplomat among us."

  Richard couldn't understand his neighbor's excitement about his title. If they'd been at the warehouse with him and Mark, they wouldn't have been nearly so impressed. He'd been dressed in jeans and a ratty University of Pennsylvania T-shirt. About the closest he came to class or elegance had been his five-year-old loafers. The air he breathed had hardly been rarefied. "Sucking diesel" was the slang expression for inhaling truck exhaust. All in all, his diplomatic post meant he was no more than an exotic paper-pusher.

  Richard smiled at the speaker, a woman from around the corner whose husband ran a Fortune 1000 company. "It sounds niftier than it is," he said, "believe me."

  "Oh, I doubt that." The woman was so positive, Richard didn't have the heart to disabuse her of her notion.

  As she talked with him, Richard had to admit that Gerri's housewarming was niftier than he had thought it would be. The place was packed, which was gratifying. Most of the guests talked in bunches, clearly old neighbors and friends, but they welcomed him graciously, and he couldn't complain.

  For once he was without kids, too.

  Since Gerri's house was on the same street, he'd left Amanda in charge of the boys. She was only a few minutes away, he would only be a few hours, and Mark had had his bath and been stuffed into his pajamas before he'd left. He felt at a loss as to what to talk about with these people, his world lately revolving almost exclusively around children, but his neighbors were quite skilled in the art of conversation. He was getting back into adult-conversation shape. Only one thing was missing. Callie.

  When Gerri crossed his path in her hostess duties, he stopped her. "Is Callie coming?"

  "No," Gerri said, looking surprised. "Why would she?"

  Richard realized he might have made a faux pas. "I mentioned I expected to see her here when I talked to her the other day. I didn't think...I mean, she is your sister, and I assumed she'd be invited."

  "Oh, dear." Gerri's face mirrored distress. "I don't invite family to neighbor things. I didn't even think about it. I'm sorry."

  "I'm sorry, too," Richard said. It occurred to him that Gerri knew perfectly well he was more acquainted with Callie than with ninety-five percent of the people in the room. To leave Callie off the list because she didn't mix family and neighbors was incredibly rude to the guest of honor, who ought to have one familiar face in the crowd.

  "I can call her now if you like," Gerri said, gesturing toward the kitchen where there no doubt was a phone.

  "No, that's okay. She's probably busy."

  Gerri brightened considerably. "Oh, yes. She must be. She's quite the free bird now."

  Richard's housewarming mood deflated after that. People were welcoming still, but they seemed to have no true depth of character. He didn't feel much better when Callie's nephew, Joey, came downstairs and greeted him.

  "Hi, Mr. Holiday," the boy began innocently enough.

  "Hi, Joey." Richard smiled at him. He looked a little like Callie with his blond hair and fair complexion.

  "Is.. .is Amanda allowed to go to soccer matches after school?" he asked, blushing bright red. Richard sensed girl interest, and he wasn't sure he liked it directed at hi
s sweet, innocent, if occasionally hurricanelike niece. In fact, he was sure he didn't.

  "Well, yes, I suppose," he said dubiously, having a feeling Amanda would kill him if he said anything else. "I'd like to see her support her school's events."

  "Oh. I don't go to her school," Joey said. "I go to a private one. All the kids around here do."

  Richard stared at him. He'd had no clue she was on the wrong side of the school tracks, too. Before they moved, he had thoroughly researched the schools, and they were excellent, in the top ten percent of the country. Why would all these people send their kids to private school when the local one had a great reputation? Unless they were total status-symbol seekers - or knew something he didn't. He would have to ask Callie. In the meantime he said, "I'm sure Amanda can go to your school's soccer match if she wants to."

  The boy smiled. "Great. Thanks."

  Joey practically skipped into the kitchen. Richard frowned after him. Nice boy, he thought. Polite. And he had better be as sweet and innocent as Amanda while he was with her. Unfortunately Richard had once been an adolescent. Masses of uncontrollable hormones weren't the exclusive property of young females. While girls got moody and weepy, boys got horny - and eventually desperate for an outlet. Richard glared at the swinging single door.

  Worried about his niece, he managed to get away from the housewarming the moment it was acceptable to do so. He used the excuse of an early-morning appointment. People assumed it was some diplomatic thing, all hush-hush. He let them.

  "Everything okay here?" he asked Amanda when he came through the door.

  She nodded while staring at the den's television set. "I thought you'd be late."

  "I was concerned about you, how you were doing. Mark went to bed okay?" he asked. "And Jason?"

  "Yes," she snapped, glaring at him.

  "I'm just asking," he replied, a little tired of the sulk-iness. He wished he knew what to do with her. When her parents first died, she'd been clingy, something he understood perfectly. Now, however, she was distant, belligerent even. He wondered if she should see a grief counselor. He sat down opposite Amanda in the other wing chair. "Everyone was nice and very glad we've moved in. They gave us lots of things we can't use."