Kids Is A 4-Letter Word

by Stephanie Bond

  Her heart was nearly leaping out of her chest when she heard Alan enter the room.

  “Don’t turn around,” he warned. Paper bags rustled behind her.

  “Okay,” he said. “You can look.”

  Jo turned around ever so slowly, her throat closing in anticipation. Alan’s grin was blinding as he proudly presented matching tan lizard-skin briefcases. Her knees weakened in relief.

  “Do you like it?” he asked excitedly, thrusting the more streamlined version toward her. “The leather is virtually indestructible, the combination lock is solid brass and the handle is guaranteed for life.”

  “It’s beautiful,” she murmured, fingering the nubby finish and feeling somewhat foolish. How like Alan—so practical.

  Alan smiled happily, stroking his own briefcase. “Now I can toss my old one and you can get rid of that worn-out black bag you’ve been carrying for years.”

  Jo bit back a frown. Hattie had given her that worn-out black bag for college graduation—it was the same leather briefcase Hattie had used for most of her own professional life, and it meant a lot to Jo.

  “Don’t you love it?” he pressed. “It’s made out of topquality lizard—look, hardly any seams at all.”

  “Mhmm,” she agreed, grasping for some level of enthusiasm for his thoughtful, expensive gift. “It’s just lovely, Alan,” she said, walking into his arms for a hug and a quick kiss.

  “I wish you were feeling better,” he murmured. “I could be talked into spending the night.”

  She drew back from him, both surprised and annoyed he’d chosen today of all days to become so amorous. Had she last seen him naked on Halloween? “Maybe next time,” she said softly. “Thank you for the briefcase, it’s beautiful.”

  “I knew you’d like it,” he breathed, making her feel a little worse. He gave her a sweet, lingering kiss, then said, “I’ll call you on Sunday and let you know how Pam’s banquet went.”

  Jo nodded, then walked him to the door. She waved as his car lights passed over her when he backed out of the driveway. Sighing, she hugged herself tight and leaned against the door frame, trying to sort out the jumbled thoughts in her head. Why had John Sterling’s name been on the tip of her tongue all night? Why had she seen his face instead of Alan’s every time she glanced across the table? And why had she been so terrified when she thought Alan was going to propose?

  Hoping Hattie was home, Jo stepped out onto her tiny porch and pulled the door shut behind her. A slight breeze had kicked up, chasing dried, dead leaves across the small lawn. She walked down the steps and all the way around the side of her house to the other housefront nearly identical to hers. Except where her shutters and door were dark green, Hattie’s were bright yellow. While Jo’s fall mums were long gone, Hattie’s double-bloom pink and white camelias were lovely in the winter moonlight. And where Jo’s doormat read simply Welcome, Hattie’s read, Don’t Bother Knocking, Come On In.

  Only Jo did knock, because she knew Hattie’s penchant for late-night meditation—in the nude.

  Within a few seconds, Hattie answered the door, predictably knotting the belt of a housecoat at her waist. She smiled wide. “Jo, my dear, come in.”

  “Am I interrupting something?”

  Her aunt scoffed as she stepped aside to admit Jo. “I don’t have a man in here, if that’s what you mean.” She grinned, smoothing her silver hair, and added, “Darn it.”

  Jo shook her head and laughed. “Hattie, you’re shameless. I’m surprised Herbert can keep up with you.”

  “He can’t,” quipped Hattie, “which is why I’m waiting for my soldier to come home. Has Alan already gone home?” At Jo’s nod, Hattie winked and said, “Since he’s been out of town for so long, I figured the two of you would be celebrating all night.”

  Smiling wryly, Jo said, “I wasn’t feeling well.” She followed Hattie into a modest-size country kitchen decorated with a rooster motif, and sat at the table while her aunt poured greenish tea into two stoneware cups.

  “You do look a little flushed,” Hattie said, squinting at her and sitting down.

  Jo winced sheepishly. “It’s a sunburn.”

  “Oh?” Her aunt’s eyebrows rose over the cup she lifted to her mouth. “Do tell.”

  She shrugged, avoiding Hattie’s gaze. “Nothing to tell.”

  Hattie sipped loudly. “Would there happen to be a client of yours sporting the same sunburn?”

  Jo sipped. “Maybe.”

  Hattie sipped. “And would this happen to be the same man with whom the Pattersons think you share three children?”

  Jo sipped and looked up into her aunt’s bright blue eyes. “Maybe.”

  Hattie set her cup down. “So tell me about this John Sterling.”

  Shifting in her seat, Jo contemplated her answer, and decided to go with the innocent version. “He’s a widower—”

  “Jo,” her aunt chided gently, “skip the résumé and tell me why he has you so flustered.”

  Sighing, Jo said, “Okay, he asked me to dinner.”

  “And?”

  “And I told him I was already involved with someone.”

  “So what gives with the sunburn?”

  “When I brought the kids back from our visit at the day-care center, he had a picnic packed and asked me to go so we could discuss plans for his house.”

  “Ah.” Hattie nodded, satisfied, then retrieved her cup for another sip.

  “What’s ‘ah’?” Jo inquired defensively.

  Hattie shrugged. “Go on.”

  “There’s nothing else to tell.”

  “So are you interested?”

  Jo nearly choked on her tea. “No!”

  “Why not? Is he hard on the eyes?”

  Taking a calming breath, Jo spoke carefully. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

  Hattie nodded agreement. “And do you behold him?”

  Jo couldn’t help smiling at her aunt’s persistence. “I suppose he’s handsome in a rugged sort of way.”

  “Ah.”

  “What’s with the ‘ah’?”

  “Why don’t you go out with the man?”

  Jo pretended to ponder the question. “Let’s see,” she said, holding up one hand to count. “He has three children, I have a boyfriend, and he has three children.”

  “Well—” Hattie grinned “—at least you know he can get it up.”

  “Hattie!”

  “Which brings us back to your second point—of having a so-called boyfriend.”

  “Hattie, I know you’ve never been crazy about Alan, but—”

  “I only want what’s best for you, Jo, and Alan Parish is so much like his dad, he couldn’t be very good in bed.”

  Jo’s jaw dropped. “Hattie, you mean you and Aldred Parish actually…”

  Hattie clucked. “Call it two weeks of insanity before I found your uncle Francis, and while I was still mourning my soldier, Torry.” She sighed dreamily. “Ahhh, Torry. Now there was a lover. A Frenchman had sold him this fuzzy little contraption—”

  “Hattie,” Jo interrupted, trying to steer the conversation back to the present. “I’ve never complained about Alan’s…virility.”

  “You didn’t have to,” Hattie drawled. “The man’s always gone by ten o’clock.”

  “He respects me,” Jo said, frowning slightly.

  “Which is a good thing,” Hattie agreed, studying the dregs in the bottom of her cup. “But the real question is—” she raised her eyes, suddenly turning serious “—does Alan move you?”

  Jo allowed the words to sink in, turning them over in her mind, dissecting and analyzing them. Alan was gorgeous, successful, intelligent—everything a woman could want, everything she’d ever wanted. So why was she suddenly feeling so…restless? Straightening her shoulders, she said, “Hattie, it takes more than great sex to make a relationship work.”

  “Maybe so,” her aunt relented with a nod. “But you can’t have a good relationship without it.” She smiled at Jo. “The
nighttime secrets you share are the memories that make you feel close to your lover even when you’re apart. I think that’s why Torry is still so strongly on my mind after all these years.” Her grin deepened. “I simply can’t wait to see him again.”

  Jo’s eyes bulged. “You’ve heard from him?”

  “No, but the detective called me this afternoon and said he had some promising leads.”

  While fairly sure this “detective.” Hattie had hired to find her lost soldier was a bit of a swindler, Jo nonetheless tried to mirror her aunt’s enthusiasm. “That’s wonderful, Hattie. I’m sure you’ll find him soon.”

  Hattie nodded happily, then said, “Life is short, Jo—don’t settle. Wait for the man who warms your heart and heats your bed.”

  John Sterling’s face came to Jo again, this time in alarming clarity. She stood up to shake the unsettling feelings her aunt had stirred. “It’s getting late—I’d better go.” She headed toward the door, then turned around at the last second. Hattie still sat at the table, cradling her teacup. “Thanks for the talk, Hattie.”

  Her aunt smiled and nodded wisely. “Just remember, Jo, a hard man is good to find.” She raised her cup in a goodnight salute. Jo smiled and shook her head, then pulled the door shut.

  “I CALLED TO ASK YOU to bring your puppy the next time you come over.”

  Whistling under his breath, John walked into the kitchen in time to overhear his son’s words. He frowned, hands on hips. “Jamie, who are you calling at this hour?”

  “Jo,” the little boy said matter-of-factly, not bothering to cover the mouthpiece.

  John’s heart vaulted. “Jo Montgomery?”

  “Yeah.”

  Astounded, John gasped. “Where did you get her number?”

  “If you dial zero, the lady that answers will tell you everything,” Jamie said earnestly. “Do you want to know where Jo lives, too?”

  “No!” John sputtered. “I mean…” He thrust out his hand. “Give me the phone, young man.”

  “Bye, Jo,” Jamie said breathlessly into the mouthpiece. “Daddy wants to talk to you now.” He tossed the handset to John and scooted out of the kitchen, just clearing his father’s light swat.

  John cursed under his breath as the handset slipped through his fingers and bounced twice on the hardwood floor. He scooped it up and juggled it a few seconds longer before he raised it to his ear. “Hello?”

  “Hello,” Jo said, the laughter clear in her voice.

  “Jo, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe my son called you.” He laughed nervously, wondering if the man she was involved with was sitting—or worse, lying—beside her, rolling his eyes at the Sterling family antics. “We interrupted your evening,” he asserted.

  “Not really,” she replied. “I’d just returned from visiting my aunt Hattie. She lives in the other side of my duplex.”

  “You don’t have…company?” he asked lightly.

  “Just Victor, my dog,” she said, then laughed. “By the way, I didn’t get to tell Jamie that I usually don’t take Victor to work with me.”

  John relaxed. “I guess the Sterling men keep hoping you’ll make exceptions in our case.”

  “The picnic was an exception,” she said pointedly.

  He grinned. “Then we’re wearing you down?”

  She laughed again. “You both get points for persistence.”

  “I had a good time today.”

  “It was fun.” Her voice sounded cautious.

  He took a gamble. “I can be fun without my three groupies, too.”

  She was silent for a few seconds during which he was sure she could hear his heart thumping across the line. Finally she said, “John, I’ve always made it a rule never to mix my business and personal lives.” Was that the tiniest hint of regret in her voice, or was he simply wishing too hard?

  “Okay,” he said, not even trying to keep the disappointment from his voice. “Business it is.”

  After an awkward pause, Jo said, “I need to swing by your house Monday morning with my laptop, if that’s okay.”

  “Fine,” he agreed quickly. “In case we’re already gone, I’ll leave a key under the mat.” He coughed lightly. “I want to thank you again for making the arrangements with KidScape—you must do a lot of work for them to be able to call in a favor.”

  She laughed, a musical sound. “Well, actually, I’m still vying for their business, but I think I’m making progress.”

  “I wish you luck,” he said, then winced as a crashing sound reverberated from upstairs. “I have to say goodbye,” he said. “Unless my ears deceive me, I’d say yet another piece of the boys’ bedroom furniture has bitten the dust.”

  “Are they okay?” she asked, sounding alarmed.

  “I don’t hear any screaming, so that’s a good sign,” he said. “I’ll talk to you soon, I hope.”

  “Soon,” she parroted softly, then quickly added, “Goodbye.”

  John stared at the phone for a few seconds, then turned and bounded up the stairs.

  “SO WHAT DO YOU THINK?” Pamela Kaminski asked, turning sideways. Jo blinked and glanced at her mother who seemed a bit awestruck by Pam’s silhouette in the shimmering minidress.

  She looked back to her curvaceous friend. “It’s smashing, Pam. The gold is perfect with your hair.”

  “Think so?” the blonde asked, squinting in the mirror.

  “You look cold,” Helen said, frowning.

  Jo elbowed her. “Mother, please,” she hissed out of the side of her mouth.

  “Well, she does,” Helen whispered. “That’s not a dress—it’s a belt.”

  “Try the black one,” Jo urged, smiling at her friend.

  When Pamela disappeared into the dressing room, Helen sighed loudly. “Josephine, I cannot believe you’re actually helping this woman pick out a gown to wear on a date with your boyfriend.”

  Jo inhaled deeply. She should have her head examined for inviting her mother to join them shopping. “It’s not a date, mother—it’s a business obligation and I don’t mind.”

  “You’re practically asking him to be unfaithful,” her mother mumbled.

  “I trust Alan,” Jo said earnestly. “And Pam, too.” More man she trusted herself these days. She rubbed her eyes and stifled a yawn. John Sterling had haunted her dreams all night and she’d awakened feeling cranky. A distracting morning of shopping had sounded appealing a few hours ago. Now it stretched before her like a life sentence.

  Minutes later, the demure black dress cast aside and the gold belt-dress bagged and paid for, Jo strolled toward the food court between her best friend and her mother. “How about ice cream?” she asked, trying to cut through the tension emanating from her mother.

  “I’m game,” Pam said cheerfully.

  “Are you sure?” Helen asked, cocking one eyebrow toward Pam. “That zipper looked a bit strained to me.”

  Pam’s eyes narrowed, and Jo angled herself between the two women. “Now, Mother—” She broke off when Helen was jostled from behind.

  “Well!” her mother huffed as a child streaked by. Jo’s breath caught when she recognized the unfurled edge of a black towel.

  “Jamie!” John’s voice reached her ears through the crowd. “Come back here, right now!”

  Jo sprinted forward and caught the edge of the towel just as the boy yelled, “I’m Peter!”

  She pulled him up short, then spun him around. His frown changed to a huge grin when he saw who held him. “Hiya, Jo!” he exclaimed.

  John jogged up to them, bouncing Billy on his hip, with Claire lagging behind. “Jo,” he said, his voice full of surprise.

  “John,” she acknowledged, alarmed at the rush of pleasure she felt. He wore a dark green leather bomber jacket and loosefitting jeans topping athletic shoes.

  He swung Billy to the ground, then straightened and grinned, brushing back waves of auburn hair from his forehead. “Fancy seeing you here.”

  “Jo?” Helen asked, walking up with a small frown. Pamel
a’s eyes were devouring John’s bare left hand and Jo was dismayed at the twinge of jealousy that pulsed through her. Quickly, she made introductions, feeling ridiculously nervous as Pamela extended her beautifully manicured hand to John and batted her gorgeous eyes.

  John nodded to Pam, then turned back to Jo and smiled, sending her pulse racing. “Shopping?”

  She waved toward her friend. “Pam needed a party dress for tonight.”

  “A business engagement,” Pam quickly assured him. “Jo was good enough to lend me her boyfriend as an escort. I’m not currently seeing anyone,” she told him with a slight tilt of her head.

  “Hey, Jo,” Jamie said, tugging on the hem of her shirt. “When are you bringing over your puppy?”

  Billy raised his arms to her. “Poopy diaper,” he said. Jo winced, then bent over to pick him up.

  “Jo,” Claire said, stabbing her glasses back in place. “Daddy said you’re coming to decorate our house while we’re at day care this week. Can’t I stay home with you?” she pleaded. “I want to help.”

  “Me, too!” Jamie yelled. “I want to stay with Jo.”

  “Me, too!” Billy shouted, sticking out his bottom lip.

  “That’s enough,” John said. “Jo can’t work if she’s got the four of us underfoot, can she?” He reached for Billy, but the toddler only tightened his grip around Jo’s neck.

  “Don’t worry, Claire,” she said, winking. “We’ll work out something.” Then to John, she asked, “Shopping?”

  He looked sheepish. “Not really. The VCR is broken.” He frowned in Jamie’s direction. “And I was hoping to find something here to entertain them while Mrs. Harris cleans the house.” He lowered his voice and leaned toward her. “Any ideas?”

  Jo thought for a few seconds. “There’s a pet store down the west wing,” she said, pointing.

  He brightened. “Great idea. Come on, Billy,” he said. “Let’s go see the puppies.”

  Billy clapped his hands and allowed John to take him. The older children shouted goodbye and scampered ahead.

  “The rest rooms are a few doors down,” she said to John. “They probably have a changing table.”