Doorstep daddy

by Cajio, Linda

  That would be nice.

  Callie watched Mark's eyes drift closed. The toddler lay on the sofa while Jason played his video game. She knew she ought to put a diaper on Mark before he took this nap, but he'd just used the bathroom.

  Decisions, decisions, she thought wryly, deciding she'd wake Mark in an hour. At least decisions distracted her from the man napping upstairs.

  What she couldn't decide was whether to be angry or amused by Richard's confession of faking illness. He had felt warm, after all. And if he acted a bit like an idiot...well, so had she. Like his youngest nephew, he just needed sleep to straighten him out.

  Jay put the game on pause and ran out of the room.

  Callie suppressed a smile, knowing his problem. He'd played until nature called - threatened, in fact, at any microsecond.

  Her amusement faded. She seemed trapped in the world of what would go into children and what would come out. She'd been there and done that far too often in her teens. Richard's three were charming, but the whole situation reminded her of raising her brothers and sisters. Even now, she wondered about Jason playing so many hours of video games and whether it was good for him or not. He'd been at it all day. He should be playing outside with friends or reading a book. Or maybe his absorption in the game was only a momentary thing for him, since the games were going back with her and he wanted to finish all he could before that happened.

  She knew she shouldn't care about Jason's "video or not to video." It was Richard's problem.

  "Callie! Amanda won't get out of the bathroom!" Jason wailed.

  "Go upstairs, then. Quietly!" she commanded in as loud a voice as she dared. She got up to see what Amanda's problem was. Probably the girl was only giving her little brother a hard time. Callie snorted. Siblings. They loved to torture each other.

  She knocked on the powder-room door. "Amanda?"

  "Go away!" Amanda cried.

  Callie thought she heard tears in the girl's voice, and she frowned. "It's Callie, not Jason. Are you okay? You sound upset."

  "I am upset," the girl replied.

  "Are you hurt?" Callie asked, turning the doorknob, ready to go in if Amanda let her.

  "I don't know. I don't know. There's...there's

  blood."

  "Did you cut yourself?" "No."

  "Let me see - " "No!"

  This time the girl shouted it in total panic. Something clicked into place in Callie's head. She knew exactly what was wrong with Amanda. Womanhood had officially begun. "It's okay, honey. Don't be worried. Every woman has this. It's normal. You'll have it for the next forty years. There's a thrill." Callie made a face at reality.

  "They showed us a stupid movie in health class about it, but I didn't know it'd be like this."

  Callie sympathized mightily. 'Where do you keep the stuff for your time? I'll get them for you."

  "I don't have anything!"

  "Oh, dear." Callie thought. "What about your uncle? Didn't he get you anything for this?"

  "He was gonna, but he forgot. I'm stuck in here forever, aren't I?"

  Callie clapped a hand over her mouth, afraid she'd laugh out loud. "No, you won't. Hang on."

  She got her own personal emergency stash and handed it through the door to Amanda, telling her what to do as she did. She added, "I'll run to the store now for you. I should be back in about fifteen or twenty minutes. Men. They're such ding-dongs at times."

  "You bet," Amanda agreed, getting a little spunk back with the rescue. "Except Joey."

  "Ah, sweet loyalty," Callie murmured.

  She went back in the living room and frowned at Mark sleeping on the sofa. She hated to wake him up just to run to the store. But Jason couldn't watch the toddler, and Amanda might never emerge from the bathroom again.

  She'd have to put Mark with Richard.

  Callie groaned, not wanting to go back into that bedroom. But she had to, otherwise Amanda would be trapped in the bathroom. She wormed her hands under Mark's little body and lifted him. He never stirred, although she half hoped he would so she could take him with her. Now she had to put him in with Richard.

  She carried Mark upstairs, passing Jason on the way down. The boy was in a hurry to get back to his game. At least one child would be safe enough until she returned from her errand of mercy.

  She gently opened the master-bedroom door and peeked in. Richard didn't move. He lay flat on his back, his arms crossed at his waist. Slowly she entered. At the edge of the bed, she stopped and stared down at the sleeping man. Emotions ran through her, warring with each other. She set them aside before any got the upper hand and leaned across Richard, settling Mark on the other side of him in the bed. Finally managing to get Mark down without disrupting either man's or boy's nap, she straightened. She brushed the hair from Mark's forehead as he snuggled against his uncle. Her fingers itched to do the same to Richard. Instead, she stroked Richard's cheek one time with the slightest of touches.

  If only things were different...but they weren't.

  She left the room on tiptoe. She completed her mission to the store and was back at her estimated time of arrival.

  Amanda had come out of the downstairs powder room. Callie found her in her own room, sitting on the bed and looking depressed.

  "You okay?" Callie asked, handing over the package she'd bought.

  Amanda nodded. "I called Heather. I'm not going to the mall with her today."

  "Hey, that's okay. But don't be embarrassed by what happened," Callie said, sitting down next to her on the bed. "You're doing great."

  "But I didn't know what to do," Amanda said, her chin trembling.

  "Yes, you did. You stayed in the bathroom and told me. You were smart. And you weren't in school like I was."

  Amanda's head snapped up. "You were at school when you got yours?"

  Callie nodded. "I had no clue what to do, so I didn't do anything. Talk about dumb. I was it." She put her arm around the girl. "Congratulations, Amanda. You are a young woman now, a beautiful young woman. No wonder my nephew has goo-goo eyes around you."

  Amanda flushed, but smiled. "Thanks."

  The girl had questions and Callie answered them. In fact, she had a good talk with Amanda. She really was a sweet teenager, hurt and confused by her parents' death - and bewildered by adolescence. Unfortunately she had an uncle as bewildered as she by the abrupt changes in both their lives. Once Amanda settled in here with her family, and with school and friends, she would be just fine. Richard, on the other hand, was a real mess. How could he have forgotten Amanda's needs? He'd promised he would take care of it right away that time. Men.

  After she left Amanda set to deal with one aspect of her graduation into womanhood, Callie went back to Richard's room. He and Mark lay together in the most innocent of slumbers. Callie's heart melted at the sight of man and child in repose. They looked so sweet together she just wanted to wrap them up in a big hug and forgive Richard his forgetfulness.

  "Oh, Lord," she muttered, knowing she was far too sentimental for her own good.

  She moved to the bed and reached over Richard to pick up Mark. She was careful not to touch Richard's body in any way. All her awareness was on his face mere inches from hers when her hands encountered wetness.

  "Uh-oh," she said, knowing she'd miscalculated Mark's newfound abilities.

  "Kiss me," Richard suddenly murmured.

  Callie glanced at his face. His eyes were open and focusing sleepily on her face. She was stretched over him, her pelvis nearly touching his hip.

  "Hello," she said lamely.

  His eyes widened. "Did you pour warm tea on my bed?"

  "Apple juice, actually, as filtered by Mark," she replied, hoping to make a joke of the mishap.

  Richard bolted upright, knocking her against his legs. "What! Why is Mark in my bed with me? And why doesn't he have a diaper on?"

  "I had to go to the store."

  Richard frowned and shifted away from his nephew. "I must still be asleep. I was having this wonde
rful dream that you were rubbing your body all over mine, and then I woke up and you were. I probably needed to get up, but that's not the alarm clock I had in mind."

  "I'm sorry," she said.

  "Apologize in a minute." Richard climbed out of bed, disentangling his legs from the covers and her. He pulled her upright, bringing her nearly to his body. The heat emanated through his clothes, igniting strong images of their lovemaking. Callie couldn't stand it. She felt faint.

  Mark slept on, undisturbed by the events around him.

  "So what did your going to the store have to do with putting Mark in my bed?" Richard asked, his deep voice sending an ominous chill up her spine.

  "I - " Her voice came out in a squeak. She cleared her throat. "You forgot to get Amanda things for her personal needs, and today was it."

  His jaw dropped. "You mean she got her...?"

  Callie nodded. "Today."

  "Wow." Richard grinned a little. "It's been a momentous twenty-four hours on more than one front Do I congratulate her or what? What's the adult male-adolescent girl protocol here?"

  "I don't know. Maybe very privately say something. She needs to feel good, and if you're matter-of-fact, she'll relax with it. Mark was asleep downstairs and I didn't have the heart to wake him for the fifteen-minute trip to the store. Amanda was occupied. Jason's not old enough, so I put him with you." Callie shook her head. "I'm sorry, Richard. Don't worry. I'll take care of everything, I promise."

  "No harm done." Richard stared at his bed. "I think."

  "I'll fix it," she vowed, sitting Mark up. The child still slept on in that way kids did when they were flat-out tired.

  She stripped bed and child together. Richard helped her, dismayed at the damage done.

  "I'm sleeping on the floor tonight," he said.

  "Don't be silly," she told him. "I'll have it fixed in no time."

  Eventually she had the area cleaned up, and then used the blow-dryer on it. She walked into her own apartment at about nine that night, officially off her baby-sitting duties. Richard was up and around, although he was still not quite right. No doubt Mark's wake-up call hadn't helped. Richard must think her a complete idiot. She couldn't blame him.

  Her apartment was deadly quiet, not even the burp of a drain line to relieve the silence. The place seemed sterile after the small bodies, raucous noise and tribulations of teenagers. And after making love to a man she had badly wanted. A man she still wanted. Here she had nothing. Nothing.

  Of her own choice.

  Chapter Seven

  ''Uncle Richard! Uncle Richard!"

  Richard fought up from some deep depths and managed to pry his eyes open. He felt as if he'd slept on rocks all night long.

  Amanda peered down at him, her face wavering around the edges. "You forgot to wake us up for school."

  "Oh." Richard became aware of what felt like a blast I furnace in the bed with him. "It's hot."

  "You look worse than yesterday," his niece said. "Is it still jet lag?"

  "Just tired really." A jumble of things swam through his mind. He couldn't quite focus on them, yet they had to do with Callie and demanded urgent attention. Relations were unsettled between them when she had left last night - about as unsettled as his stomach suddenly felt. "I'll take you to school."

  He began to push the covers back, sitting up at the same time. Or tried to. His body refused to cooperate, and he could barely raise his head from the pillow. The blast furnace went up a thousand degrees when he did.

  "I think I really am sick this time," he muttered, awed by his ability to predict the future.

  "You're all white and sweaty," Amanda said. "Like the paste we used in elementary school."

  "Get the thermometer from the bathroom," he said with effort. His stomach roiled violently, taking him by surprise. He shot off the bed as if out of a cannon, then staggered past Amanda and into the bathroom. He couldn't wait for the thermometer - only it wasn't the thermometer he needed.

  Long minutes later, as he laid his head on the cool porcelain base of the toilet, his stomach temporarily relieved, he decided he was most definitely sick.

  "Uncle Richard." Amanda stood in the doorway, looking as shaken as he felt. "What should I do? Should I go to school? I can't get there if you don't take me because the bus left already. Should I stay home? Should I call a doctor or the police or something?''

  "Oh, God, no." He pressed his face into the tile floor as his stomach did backflips again. His gut compelled him to repeat his performance of a few minutes ago. He obliged.

  By the time he was finished, Amanda was no longer at the bathroom door. He couldn't blame her.

  "Amanda?" he called out weakly. When she didn't return, he murmured, "Guess she went to school."

  The faces of Jason and Mark flitted briefly across his brain. Heaven only knew what they were doing, and they could tear the house up for all he cared at this point. Eventually he'd be well enough to fix it. He hoped. A third encounter with the inside of the porcelain bowl made him wonder if he'd ever be able to rise above his knees again in this lifetime.

  "Wow. You can really puke, Uncle Richard."

  From his prone position, Richard opened one eye. Jason stood next to Amanda. Amanda had her hand clapped over her mouth. She looked as if she might join him at any second. Richard hugged the bowl possessively. The kid could find her own toilet. He needed his.

  "I'm okay," he finally said. His voice sounded terrible, and it hurt like hell to talk. "I promise, Jay."

  "We better stay home," Amanda said. "But you'll have to call the school. We'll get in trouble if we call ourselves."

  "Get the phone." Richard struggled against a fourth attack. He won...barely.

  A few moments later Jason put the portable phone next to him on the floor. Richard picked it up and tried to discern the numbers on the buttons. His gaze swam. His stomach protested forcefully. He thrust the phone into the boy's hands.

  "Jay, you dial."

  "I don't know the number."

  "Phone book."

  Richard lay down on the floor, all his threadbare energy consumed with fighting off a new wave of nausea. He hung on. Eventually he heard Jay punching in phone numbers.

  "Here," the boy said, holding out the receiver.

  Richard took it and, when the school-office secretary answered, told the woman that Jay wouldn't be in school that day. He had to take another tour at being sick before he was capable of repeating the message to Amanda's school.

  When the stomach spasms eased, he moaned at the pounding in his head, the aching in his bones and the jumping in his stomach.

  "I think we should call Callie," Jay said.

  "I think so, too," Amanda agreed.

  "No." Richard croaked the word out. "Imposed too much already. Where's Mark?"

  "Still sleeping," Amanda said. "I checked."

  "Thank you, honey." Richard closed his eyes, desperate for sleep.

  He woke up much later at the sound of new voices. Something covered him although he still lay on the bathroom floor. The kids must have put a blanket over him. They had iced the tiles, though, at some point. The floor was so cold against his skin that his body shook with chills.

  The voices drew closer and he realized people were in the bedroom. They were talking about him.

  "Richard said he was sick yesterday, then said he wasn't."

  Callie's voice. Richard smiled.

  "You say he's been vomiting?"

  Richard opened one eye at the male voice he'd never heard before.

  "All over the place!" Jason replied enthusiastically.

  "Have not," Richard muttered in his own defense.

  "I'm glad you kids called me... Omigod! Richard!"

  Richard smiled at the panic in his angel of mercy's voice. Nothing had ever sounded sweeter than Callie's concern for him. He wanted to kiss her.

  Instead, he was violently sick again. Someday he would have a sophisticated lover image, but not today.

  Cool femin
ine hands held his forehead while someone made sympathetic noises.

  ' 'Callie, you never could handle anyone being sick in the bathroom. Knock it off before I have two patients."

  "Replace me already?" Richard finally whispered as the attack subsided. "He's a peach."

  "Not hardly." She kissed the top of his head. "Now shut up and let my brother Tommy examine you. He's a second-year resident at Thomas Jefferson Hospital."

  "The room snooper?"

  "No, that's Steve. He's in real estate."

  "Oh." Richard concentrated on this brother of Callie' s, his relief at the relationship only slightly penetrating his illness. It took a full minute for the realization to sink in that Tommy had the same angelic features as Callie, yet with masculine overtones. The Rossovich siblings he'd met so far were certainly a good-looking bunch.

  "Help him onto the floor, Callie," Tommy said, grinning widely. "I'll do an exam here."

  "Knew you'd be back," Richard said to her as she eased him to a prone position.

  "I'm a bad penny that keeps turning up."

  "Love you," he murmured in a wonderful daze. His stomach threatened again, but he was too weak to do more than ignore it.

  "You are hallucinating."

  Sure hands poked and prodded him, but gently. Finally the hands stopped. Something pressed against his ear for a long moment, then was removed. Richard shivered.

  "Temp's up. That's why you've got the chills."

  The stethoscope that pressed against his chest was more recognizable than the ear thermometer.

  Tommy said, "Nothing more than the flu, kids."

  Richard grimaced. He was dying a slow death here, hardly a ' 'nothing more than'' situation. A medical guy, his backside. "Go back to school, pal."

  "No way!" Jason yelped.

  "I think he meant me, not you," Tommy told Jay. To Richard he said, "But you go back to bed, pal. The floor's no place for you, and I don't have to be a doctor to know that."

  Tommy helped him to his feet. Richard groaned and tottered to the bed with both Tommy and Callie's help. Never had he been so grateful to have adults around. He hadn't known how he would be able to handle the kids.

  He collapsed onto the bed, happy to be in a warm place under warmer covers. He closed his eyes, wanting nothing more than to shut out the world.