“I wanted you to be tantalized.”
“You’ve succeeded.”
He pictured her, behind her desk, stretched back in her chair, looking out the window, perhaps, seeing the same rain pattern drumming against her windows as drummed against the large bay before him. He tracked the streaks of water that turned the pearly gray world outside to a wavering, shimmery shade of silver. “I want to cook you dinner tonight, if you’re free. And I have a question to ask, about this weekend. But more on that, later.”
“You’re not going to give me the full scoop, are you, JB?”
“Nope. Not until you accept my dinner invitation.”
“One of my many weaknesses as a human being is that I detest the task of cooking dinner every night. Therefore, I guess I better concede this match. I accept.”
“Terrific. Come by whenever you’re done at work.” He gave her his address, and they concluded their call a short time later.
Returning to the kitchen, Jeremy looked at his watch. Anticipation curled through his body. Only three hours to go.
Hearts Communion
7
The front door to the daycare center came open, forcing Monica away from her present world of daydreams about Jeremy, and that breathtaking, unexpected delivery of roses. She heard the door buzz and left her office behind, coming upon a woman who looked around as though a bit lost.
“Hi,” Monica greeted. “Can I help you?”
“I’m looking for Monica. Monica Kittelski.”
“I’m Monica.”
“Hi. I called earlier today about the possibility of enrolling my daughter at your daycare center.”
Nodding with recognition, Monica stepped forward and extended her hand. “You must be Mrs. Carter.”
The woman shook Monica’s hand. “Yes.”
“Come on back to my office and let’s talk. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Business claimed her focus, but, once again, so did Jeremy. The image of him skimmed through her mind, and caused her lips to curve as she walked the narrow hallway with Caroline close behind. Monica pictured him, hard at work, in a gutted-out home, coordinating crews, swinging a hammer, getting physical in the way he had described so well at dinner. Once they entered the office, she closed the door and sat down at her desk, relegating Jeremy to the back of her mind. For now.
Mrs. Carter took the chair across from Monica, her posture hesitant. “Actually, I prefer Caroline Dempsey. I’m in the process of a name change. My husband and I are divorcing, and I’ll be going by my maiden name. But, please, call me Caroline.”
“Caroline Dempsey it is. I remember you saying you have a four-year-old.”
Caroline visibly relaxed a bit, warming up as Monica recalled their conversation. “Her name is Jessica. She’ll be five in a few months. She’s been in daycare for a year now, but I need to change centers because I’m moving from Detroit. Until I find an apartment nearby, I’ll be living with my parents here in Saint Clair Shores.”
“So she’s familiar with the routine of going to pre-school. That will make adjusting to a new center much easier, for both of you.”
The comment seemed to set Caroline further at ease, and she smiled for the first time. “I hope so. I want to do everything I can for her. She’s confused about all the conflict going on at home, and I’m not sure how she’ll handle all the changes. I’m being even more cautious than usual about the facility I choose.”
“No problem at all. We’ll come back here and talk after I give you a tour of the school. If you’ll follow me, I’ll explain our pre-K programs and introduce you to our teachers.”
Monica took Caroline through the main room. “Aside from being the lobby, this is also where we set up tables for group art projects, or floor games and such. As you can see, we have easels and paints, magazines and all kinds of cardboard and construction paper for the children to use.”
Along the far side of the lobby, glass windows and doors lined the wall, revealing rooms that were sectioned off for each group of children—infants, toddlers, and preschoolers. Monica explained the workings of each class, then showed Caroline to the pre-school room where her daughter would spend the most time.
Once the door swung open, voices that had been muffled turned up full blast. Inside were about twenty kids, divided into groups for free play, reading and puzzle works. Four teachers provided supervision, moving from spot to spot when kids needed support, or questions came up.
As always, Monica’s entrance was marked by shouts for attention. Two or three youngsters came up to her straight away and waited for a hug. She greeted them all, then picked up the last one in line, a shy newcomer named Joshua who beamed at her, but looked at Caroline in question.
“Hi, Josh.” Monica gave him a squeeze and walked Caroline through the room, taking Joshua along on automatic. The only thought that crossed her mind beyond touring a prospect through her school was the idea of Jeremy, and kids, and how much family meant to him. By sheer dent of will, Monica refused to let the thought take root. JB had delivered roses and ready affection. Fun and easy, she told herself. It’s still just fun and easy. We’ll keep it that way. She refused to let sadness and trepidation diminish her pleasure.
Caroline looked through the windows of this classroom, into a wide open, large space, which once again, was full of kids. Monica laughed at Caroline’s wide-eyed reaction, keying in on her guest once more. “I call that the rumpus room. It’s a real blessing on rainy days like this. As you can see, we have a small jungle gym, floor cushions for exercising, and foam balls to toss and kick around.”
Letting Joshua run off to color, Monica picked up strewn toys and automatically stored them while Caroline looked around. The woman seemed pleased. “I like the art work.”
She referred to a selection of drawings and paintings that covered a nearby wall. “We put paintings everywhere. My center is a showcase for budding artistic talent.”
Caroline’s eyes went distant, and troubled, as she watched the children play. “Everything here is so innocent. Carefree. That’s what I want Jessica to have. I like your center, Miss Kittelski.”
Absorbing Caroline’s vibration of sadness stirred empathy, and Monica’s encouraging smile. “It’s Monica, please.”
“Monica. I like it very much. Can I talk with you about some things in private?”
“Of course. Let’s go back to my office and sit down.”
When they returned, Caroline sat down while Monica moved to her side of the desk.
Caroline picked up a nearby paperclip and started to twist it nervously. “Monica,” she began softly, not looking up from her fidgeting hands, “the most important thing in the world to me right now is knowing that my daughter will be well cared for and protected while I’m at work during the day.”
“Protected?” The distinction took Monica by surprise, and her brows pulled together.
“Yes. Protected.” Dropping the mangled paperclip, Caroline finally looked at Monica directly. “I’m enduring a bitter divorce from my husband David, and I don’t trust him. In fact, I wouldn’t put it past him to try and take Jessica away from me. I have legal custody, but…well, especially lately, he can be volatile. If he got hold of her, he’d take her away, I just know it! I can’t let that happen. I’m already at my wit’s end. If he reentered the picture, I know I’d fall apart.”
In a professional sense, Monica had faced this kind of situation before—a divorced parent, emotions taxed to the maximum, trying to look out for the best interests of their child. It left her heartsick on behalf of the entire wounded family—but most especially the innocent, unsuspecting child.
Leaning forward, Monica hastened to assure by carefully emphasizing her next words. “I have strict guidelines about who can and cannot take the children from my facility. When you enroll Jessica, you’ll fill out a standard form that gives me the names of people you want Jessica to be released to should you be unable to pick her up for some reason. If they’re not on
the list, they’re not allowed access.”
“And that system works? I mean, I’m not trying to question you, or the rules you have in place, but I just—I need to be sure.”
“Don’t worry about asking tough questions. I understand. I’m very protective of the children I care for. I’m trusted to act on the parent’s behalf during the day, and I take that fact very seriously. I have to.” She reached across the desk and gave Caroline’s arm a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “As we can’t foresee every possible scenario, there are never guarantees, but we’ll take good care of Jessica for you.”
Caroline eased into a more relaxed posture. “Thank you. I’d like to fill out the paperwork. I’d like her to start school here next week if possible.”
Opening a desk drawer, Monica extracted a packet of enrollment forms and slid them toward Caroline, along with a pen. She debated for only a second or two before adding, “If you and Jessica are new to living in the Shores, I have a suggestion that might help her fit in and adjust even more.”
“What’s that?” Caroline looked up with interest, her pen now still.
“Wednesday evenings I teach youth dance classes at the Community Center. Jessica could begin in the pre-ballet class if you think she’d be interested. We’re only a few weeks into the fall term, so she hasn’t missed much.”
“Dance.” Approval marked her smile and sparkling eyes. “I’m sure she’d love it. You must really be dedicated to children. I admire your involvement with them.”
Monica’s gaze strayed to the stunning bouquet of roses. She breathed in the subtle, yet intoxicating aroma. In an instant, longing pervaded her spirit. Kids. Jeremy. She firmed her lips and blinked free of hope. Rather than elaborate on the thread of Caroline’s conversation, Monica smiled, her hands going tense around a mug of cooled coffee from earlier. “Can I offer you something to drink? Some coffee or tea?”
“I’d love some tea, if it isn’t much trouble. Thank you. And how do I go about signing her up for dance?”
Monica refreshed her mug and filled another with hot water for Caroline. Next to her jellybean bowl was a small tea caddy, which she opened and offered to Caroline for selection.
“The program is wonderful. It places no pressure on the girls. They have a lot of fun learning and dancing for their friends and relatives. We have a recital in just a few months.”
“A taste of show-biz. Jessica would love it, and she deserves the fun.”
“I can get you those forms as well. They’re right over here.”
While Caroline continued to sign up for Sunny Horizons, Monica went to the black leather satchel she carried with her to work each day and sifted through its contents until she found a registration form for the Community Center dance program. “Here you go.”
Caroline sighed, looking into Monica’s eyes with heart-tugging gratitude. “A half-hour with you, and I feel like I just might get a handle on my life with Jessica after all.”
The compliment provided a needed boost to Monica’s outlook and helped her find an even center. “Thank you, Caroline. I’m looking forward to meeting your daughter.”
Hearts Communion
8
“JB, your place is beautiful.”
Taking Monica’s coat and hanging it in the entryway closet, Jeremy absorbed the details of his home, seeing it through her eyes.
Granted, he injected a lot of TLC into the place, but that was half the fun. He loved open, airy spaces, so the cathedral ceilings, recessed lights and skylights suited him. He was also a fan of the polish and durability of ceramic, so the entryway and the nearby kitchen featured a smoky, salmon hue that offered up a visual of the warm welcome he carried internally.
Slow, but not shy, Monica moved forward, looking around with curiosity. He watched, and a mysterious emotion went to work in his heart. He found pleasure and a cozy sense of comfort at seeing her in his space, at watching her acclimate, and better yet, enjoying his home.
But Monica didn’t fail him. She was also all about spunk, and sass. When she strolled into the living room, she tossed him an over-the-shoulder look that gave him a delicious heat rush. “You are such a guy,” she muttered affectionately.
“Thanks for noticing.”
“Seriously. The bigger the plasma, the better the man, right?”
“That’s always been my mantra.”
She laughed, taking note of little things. She paused by pictures of his family, slid her fingertips against fat candles in hurricane holders that were placed upon the mantle above a crackling fire in the fireplace. From a nearby coffee table, she picked up the remote and aimed it at the television screen. But she didn’t activate it quite yet. “I’m making you a bet.”
“Which is?”
“ESPN, ESPN 2 or, outside money riding on the NFL network. May I?”
“I’m up for the challenge. Go for it.” Jeremy waited; in fact, he even arched a brow. Her eyes narrowed, revealing the fact that her confidence was wavering just a trace. He had set her a touch off balance. And he loved it.
She turned on the TV and was rewarded by…Fox News.
Monica sighed. She nodded in solemn defeat then turned to him. “I’m officially impressed.”
“Like I told you when we met, I’m not just any man.”
“Guess I should have paid better attention,” she quipped, then turned off the TV and rejoined him.
“Actually, I did the whole man-versus-ESPN thing before turning in last night. Watched Fox before leaving for work this morning. So, to be fair, you almost had me busted.”
“Your honesty is commendable. Regardless, you’re a well-balanced individual. I like that about you.”
That did it. Jeremy wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her in for a snug, warm hug that she returned eagerly. The moment ended with both of them sighing happily. As they parted, he leaned down, capturing her chin gently in his hand so he could prompt a subtle tilt to her head and kiss her cheek. He lingered a bit over their contact. Monica’s eyes closed, he noticed, and her body softened. Welcomed.
“Are you hungry?”
“That’s a loaded question.” Her husky voice brought him back around, and made him realize the double meaning behind that question. They both burst out laughing.
“C’mon. Let’s get cooking.”
Monica gave his shoulder a shove. “Well, aren’t you on a roll tonight?”
“That one was deliberate.” He led her to the kitchen, guiding her by a touch to the small of her back. She was such a dynamo. He marveled over the fact, crediting her anew for the aspects of her personality that were so magnetic and appealing. In deference to her job with the kids, she wore dress slacks and comfortable, stylish blouses for the most part. Today’s gray pants and softly draped, silk blouse of peach were both feminine and functional.
She happened to catch his perusal and looked at him with a surprising degree of shyness. “What?”
Jeremy touched her cheek in passing, making his way to the cabinet for cookware. “Nothing. Just thinking.”
“About?”
“About the fact that I’m not the only one in this room who’s a well-balanced individual.” Monica looked down for a second, re-gathering herself, he imagined. Jeremy let her, and continued on. “Can I interest you in something to drink?”
“That’d be nice. Thanks. Today was kind of a tense one at work, and that weather’s giving me a chill, too. Do you happen to have any tea?”
“Absolutely. Name your herbal combo.”
Monica giggled, and her blush slipped through his soul like the softest of caresses. “You crack me up.”
“You’re surprised. Again.”
“Yep.”
Jeremy clucked his tongue, and shook his head. “I beat you at the man versus TV game, and then you doubt my tea-making capabilities? I’m born and raised by an Irish mother who swears by a hot cup of tea.” He pointed toward a nearby tea caddy. “I’ll heat some water. Help yourself to whatever sounds good…and fill me i
n about that tough day at work.”
For the next several minutes, Jeremy focused on Monica’s description of her day, and, in particular, the episode with a new enrollee at Sunny Horizons. She kept specifics, like names and such, out of their conversation, but she appeared to be upset by the issues facing this single-working-mom. He retrieved a bistro mug from the cabinet above his built-in micro-wave and went to work preparing tea. She chose a version of green tea with jasmine.
When brewing finished, Monica accepted the offering with a grateful look. “You should have seen this woman, JB. She was desperate. She was completely at the end of her rope as a woman and mother contending with a bitter divorce. Furthermore, I have to say, I just don’t get it.” She watched as he began food preparations. “Can I help?”
“Sure.” Jeremy handed her a wrapped package of ground beef and a frying pan. “This can be browned up, if you’re sure you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” Monica lifted an apron from a nearby wall peg and slipped it on.
“So, what don’t you get?”
She kicked on the stove heat, grabbed a spatula, and went to work. “I don’t get people.”
“People?”
“Splintered families, acrimonious divorces. It always tears me up inside to hear about kids caught in the middle of bad circumstances over which they have absolutely no control. It makes me angry. It’s such a waste!” She blew out a stream of air, clearing her throat. She sipped from her tea, stirred the sizzling mix of meat and added some of the onion and garlic spices Jeremy offered. “And since I find myself on a soapbox, I’ll end my venting session right there.”
He watched, taking her in. “No need to do that. I don’t mind your soapbox, or your venting.” He paused. “You know—it sounds to me like she’s trying hard to do the right thing. Maybe she just needs a hand. You’ve given her that.”
“To a degree. It’s like you volunteering, though. You always end up wishing you could do more, right?”
Hearts Communion Page 5