Temporary Dad

by Laura Marie Altom

  His sister’s selfish disappearing act already had him wound tight, but this latest fiasco?

  He was now a man on the edge.

  Elbows on the sticky table, cradling his face in his hands, he closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths.

  Calm down, man.

  Keep the past in the past.

  Just like his little brother Ronnie’s death had been out of his control, so was everything happening right now. That was the bad news. The good news was that all he had to do was hang tight until they got to the cabin, then everything would be fine.

  Yeah, right.

  Who was he kidding?

  Here he’d been snatching peeks at Annie’s long legs all afternoon, dreaming of the moment they turned the munchkins over to his sister so he could ask his hot neighbor out on a proper date. But if he kept up this gloom-and-doom routine, she’d refuse to even climb back into the van.

  Jed looked down at his niece and nephews—all three of them still snoozing.

  After another deep breath, he let the calm of knowing that at least the three of them were safe and content spread through him.

  Patti was safe, too.

  In the cabin. Probably trashing it with gossip magazines and pop cans and Oreo crumbs.

  By the time he got there, the place would no doubt be mouse-infested, but that was all right.

  As for his future nightlife…

  He snatched a bag of banana-flavored cotton candy from the display.

  Time for some major sucking up.

  “I’M SORRY, ma’am, but I’m afraid you’ll have to—”

  “No!” Patti cried, fighting to get past the nurse keeping her from Howie’s room. “He’s my husband. It’s my right to know what’s going on.” A few minutes earlier, she’d been holding Howie’s hand, telling him how much the babies had grown in just the week he’d been gone. The room had been peaceful. Silent except for the soft whir of air-conditioning and the sound of her voice. And then that awful beeping had started, and—the rest was too horrible to think about. “I have to see him,” Patti begged, hot tears stinging her eyes. “Please.”

  “Mrs. Norwood, let the doctors do their work. They’ll tell you everything just as soon as your husband is stable.”

  Patti wanted to fight—really, she did, but at the moment, she was just too tired.

  The kind nurse put her arm about Patti’s shoulders and guided her into the dimly-lit waiting area that had become Patti’s new home.

  What she wouldn’t give to be back at her old home.

  Holding all three babies on her lap while Howie changed the TV channel fifty billion times with the remote.

  “Are you going to be all right?” the nurse asked, settling Patti into a recliner.

  Numb with fear, she nodded.

  “Can I get you anything? Coffee? A blanket and pillow?”

  My husband.

  Please tell me he’s going to be okay.

  Chapter Five

  Twenty minutes later, pride swallowed, Jed found Annie in the women’s clothing department, holding up two metallic jogging suits against herself that, in this heat, would bake her like a foil-wrapped potato.

  “In case you haven’t noticed, it’s a hundred and fifteen degrees outside.”

  “A hundred and one, and I don’t remember asking for your opinion,” Annie said. “Besides, if I wait to buy these until the time of year I’ll really need them, the stores will be carrying bathing suits.”

  “True.” Jed laughed. “And it can get chilly in the mountains—not that we’ll be there that long, but—”

  “Who said I’m going anywhere with you?”

  “I got you this,” he said, retrieving the cotton candy peace offering from the stroller’s back pocket.

  Refusing to meet his eyes, Annie shook her head, then turned back to the jackets. “You hurt me. I barely even know you, yet you really hurt me.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, slipping in between her and the clothes. “I’ll be the first to admit I have issues. Ask any of my ex-girlfriends and they’ll tell you the same.”

  “Well, since none of them are around, how about you tell me.”

  Unfastening the twist tie on the cotton candy, he groaned. “What is it with women and talking? Can’t you try to understand that sometimes I get a little worked up and leave it at—”

  “Excuse me, but could I please get in there?” A middle-aged woman wearing thick glasses and a Tweety bird T-shirt nudged Jed away from the jogging suits. She looked at Annie. “I see you’re buying two,” the woman said. “Crazy how we have to snatch ’em all up so early. I’ve already got most of my Christmas shopping done.”

  “I know, me too,” Annie said, putting the jackets back on the rack.

  “You don’t want those?” the lady asked.

  I don’t know what I want.

  Five minutes earlier, Annie thought she would’ve been content with a new sweatsuit and an apology, but now she wanted more. For some reason, the argument back in the snack bar made her think of Troy. It reminded her of the way he’d seemed to deliberately pick fights, then gradually get louder and louder. Yelling and punching the walls and cabinet doors, then eventually punching or slapping her.

  What happened at the snack bar was nothing compared to one of Troy’s scenes, but—if only for an instant—it had returned her to memories better left forgotten.

  “You go ahead,” Annie said to the woman eyeing the jackets. “It’s too miserable outside to even think about climbing into those.”

  Obviously, the woman didn’t care, as she dove enthusiastically into the rack of clothes.

  Keeping a tight grip on the stroller handle, Annie wove through the apparel maze to the purses.

  “Does this mean you’re going with me?” Jed asked, hot on her heels.

  “This means I don’t know what it means. Just that the last thing I want to do is stand around and chat about shopping. Jed, I want to—”

  “Oh, my Lord! Walter, would you look at this! Triplets!” A white-haired woman with her stout husband in tow crouched over the babies, coochie-cooing and poking them to the point that Annie thought she might have to call for security.

  Thankfully, Jed stepped in. “If I were you,” he said in a stage whisper, “you might want to steer clear for your own protection. The babies bite.”

  “Oh, my.” Eyes huge, the woman lurched back, clutching her chest. “I’ve never heard of such a thing. You should take them to a doctor right away.”

  As the couple wandered off whispering and glancing over their shoulders, Annie wanted to be mad at Jed for telling such an outrageous story, but she couldn’t help cracking a smile. Not only had the man apologized, but he had brought her banana cotton candy, then made her laugh. Comparing him to Troy wasn’t just unfair to Jed, it was ludicrous.

  “You’re awful,” she said in a semi-serious tone.

  “Thanks.” He beamed with what she suspected was pride.

  THEY WERE just past Wichita, playing a truly wretched kids’ CD they’d found in the glove box when Annie dared to ask, “Ready to talk?”

  “I thought we were talking.”

  “Sure. About whether or not those clouds on the horizon are producing rain. And whether to choose a Mc-Donald’s or Arby’s or Taco Bell for our next pit stop. But near as I can tell, we still haven’t touched on any important stuff.”

  Squirming in his seat, Jed said, “I thought you didn’t like talking.”

  “Only on expensive cell phones.”

  He sighed.

  “You told me to ask your exes about your…issues, but conveniently for you, none of them were lurking around the purse department just dying to spill your dirty secrets.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Since you asked—” she said, propping her bare feet on the dash, ignoring his glare, “—how about telling me why you and your last girlfriend split up?”

  Looking over at her, he said, “And you need to know all of this because�
��?”

  “I put every dime I had on my condo. If we’re going to be neighbors, I should know what types of floozies might be skulking around next door.”

  “Floozies? I’ll have you know I only date the finest women the town of Pecan, Oklahoma, has to offer. I’m talking primo top-notch. Two former Miss Pecans, three rodeo queens and I nearly married my class’s home-coming queen.”

  “That’s an awful lot of royalty.” Annie aimed a sweet grin his way. “No wonder you’re proving to be a royal pain in the—”

  “Watch it,” he said. “There are tender ears present.”

  The kids’ CD launched into a high-pitched, squealing rendition of “Row, Row, Row Your Boat.”

  “Wow.” Annie winced.

  In the back seat, all three babies gurgled and cooed.

  “I take that back,” Jed said. “Carry on. If they actually like this crap, those little ears of theirs can’t be all that tender.”

  “All right, then, you’re a royal—”

  “Hey, whoa. I change my mind. I’ll talk. Just don’t ruin my Mary Sunshine image of you.”

  Fluffing her hair, Annie teased, “You think I’m perfect, huh?”

  “Oh, I’m sure you have flaws in there somewhere.”

  “True, but back to yours…”

  He tightened his grip on the wheel. “Well, the general consensus is that I’m too controlling.”

  “You?” Annie widened her eyes. “I never would’ve guessed.”

  “Hey, I’m trying to be serious here.”

  “Sorry,” she said, her expression appropriately somber. “By all means, carry on.”

  “For instance, there was Beth. We were rocking along just fine at around the six-month mark when she announces out of nowhere that she’s starting a night course at the community college. She wanted to learn cake-decorating. Well, I’m all for furthering one’s education, so I was fine with that. My one request was, since her class didn’t start until eight on Tuesday and Thursday nights, that I pick her up and drop her off. There’d been a mugging on campus just a few weeks earlier and I wanted to be sure she was safe.”

  “Oh, boy,” Annie said.

  “What? Even a year after the fact, I fail to see what’s so bad about that.”

  “Nothing—if you were her husband. But Jed, if you two were just dating, she probably felt you were trying to control every aspect of her life. She probably thought you wanted to see if there were any hot guys in her class. Or that you’d think she was at some campus kegger, when she’d really been studying frosting techniques.”

  “Oh, please.” Jed rolled his eyes. “First of all, it’s a community college, so there aren’t any keggers. And second of all, I didn’t even want to be there. Hell, all I did was sit in the car and listen to all-sports talk radio. It was a total bore, but as her boyfriend, I felt it was my responsibility to keep her safe.”

  “And you feel it’s your responsibility to keep Patti safe.”

  “Exactly. See? You get it. Why couldn’t Beth?”

  “Did you ever try to explain your feelings to her instead of just asserting your need to control every situation?”

  “Nah. Besides the subject of cake-decorating, she wasn’t really big on talk.”

  “TALK ABOUT ADORABLE. Sissy, come on up here and look at these three—make that four—cuties.” The teen cashier at the small town’s pizza joint cracked her gum and winked at Jed.

  Jed pretended to be busy with his wallet. He’d already checked his messages, but maybe he should go and check them again until Annie got out of the bathroom.

  A girl wearing a name tag that said “Sissy” approached the counter. “Ooh…they are cute.” She didn’t take her eyes off Jed. Great. How old were these two? Maybe sixteen?

  “Want me to sit with you while you eat?” Sissy asked. “I can, you know, help you take care of your babies.”

  “Uh, thanks for the offer, but my wife should be out any—there you are, honey.” His back to the counter, Jed winked at Annie. “Is one thin-crust Canadian bacon, black olive and pineapple all we need?”

  “Except for my tea, honey. Did you order that?”

  “Two iced teas,” Jed said, relieved that Annie was playing along.

  “Okay,” the original cashier girl said. At her first sighting of Annie, Sissy went back to the kitchen. “Coming up.”

  Jed paid and headed for the booth where Annie had set up camp. Thankfully, it was far from the cashiers.

  “Thanks,” he said, setting their iced teas on the table before easing into the red vinyl seat across from Annie. “That was a mess.”

  “What was a mess, honey?”

  “Those two girls. They were coming on to me. Both of them need to go home and play with their dolls.”

  “And stay away from real men like you?” She blew him a kiss.

  “Anyone ever tell you that you’ve got a mile-long mean streak?”

  Smiling, Annie shook her head. “Okay, Mr. Control. What would you have done if I hadn’t been here?”

  Jed grabbed five sugar packets, gave them a shake, then tore the tops off and dumped the contents into his tea.

  “I’m waiting,” Annie said. “Again.”

  “Truth? I probably would’ve made up some dumb excuse like I forgot my wallet and left. Stuff like that makes me uncomfortable. I never know what to say.”

  She put two sugars in her tea and stirred. “All you really need to do, Jed, is speak up. With Beth, you just needed to explain your feelings about wanting to keep her safe. And with those teenage girls, all you had to do was tell them politely but firmly that you weren’t interested.”

  “Yeah, but what you don’t seem to get that I don’t like talking. Makes me itch.” He scratched the back of his neck.

  “You’re so making that up.”

  Pia started to cry.

  “Ah…” he said, removing her from her stroller seat. “Thank you, sweetie.” He nuzzled the top of her fuzzy head, breathing in that good clean baby smell.

  Which reminded him…

  He searched the stroller pocket for the disinfectant wipes he’d picked up at Wal-Mart for just such an occasion. Taking one out, he began to wipe down the table.

  “What are you doing?” Annie asked.

  “Isn’t it pretty clear? The last thing we need is for these babies to pick up a bug.”

  “But Jed, they’re not even sitting at the table. And we’re not going to eat here. We’re only waiting until our order’s ready to go.”

  “I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

  “Pia—” Annie said, reaching across the table for her chubby fists, “—it’s my solemn vow to loosen up your uncle by the time this trip is over. Okay?”

  The baby gurgled.

  “There you go,” Annie said. “At least someone in this crowd agrees with me.”

  “Yeah, well, the two guys think I’m pretty cool, so it’s a three-two vote. I don’t have to change a bit.”

  “NO, NO, NO…” Jed said. After checking his answering machine—still no messages—he now stood at the entrance of the World Famous Corn Museum, taking off the corn-husk hat not five seconds after Annie had put it on him. “I told you I’m only here to get the babies calmed down from their latest crying jag. Once they’ve had a few minutes to chill and forget how much they hate being in that van, we’re gone,” Jed warned.

  “Fine, but what’s the harm in having a little fun along the way?” She stood on her tiptoes to plop the hat back on his head. “Smile.”

  Before he could take it off again, she snapped his picture with the disposable camera she’d bought in the Corncob Hall of Gifts.

  “What’d you have to do that for?” The hat was finally off and resting on the table she’d borrowed it from.

  “You’re the one who bought me this stupid shirt and insisted I put it on,” Annie said. “Why shouldn’t you look just as ridiculous?” She peered down at the nubby corncob on the white shirt. A caption across the top read I Hope To Be Earr
ing From You Soon.

  At first she hadn’t gotten the joke.

  Jed had been the one to explain. Ear of corn. Earring from you. Hearing from you. He bought her the shirt to remind her that he was the funny one. He’d even had the nerve to bring up her lame joke about his fried phone being served with ketchup or tartar sauce.

  “And do you know why I wanted you to wear that shirt?” he asked. “Because I have a sense of humor and you don’t.”

  “That is not true,” she complained, waving her camera with one hand and jiggling a crying Ronnie with the other. “And I’ll prove it by getting these pictures developed and showing them to everyone you know.”

  “That’s not funny. That’s blackmail.” He tried to look gruff but couldn’t hide the lingering smile in his eyes.

  Slowly pushing the stroller by a floor-to-ceiling display of facts about corn, Jed whistled in amazement. “Did you know the biggest box of popcorn in the U.S. was over fifty-two feet long? Ten feet wide and ten feet deep? Wonder if it had butter?”

  Ronnie wailed louder.

  Jed gave his nephew a weary glare. “Have you given any thought to the schedule?” he asked Annie.

  “A few more minutes of walking—and he’ll calm right down.”

  Jed returned her reassuring smile with a skeptical scowl.

  They walked past another exhibit—this one on the history of corn.

  “Check it out,” Jed said, pointing to a model village. “The earliest recorded windmills were in seventh century Persia, and they were used for grinding corn.”

  “Be careful,” Annie said, elbowing his ribs. “Someone might think you’re actually having fun.”

  He made a face at Annie, then continued to read each plaque on the remaining exhibits.

  Ronnie kept crying.

  At the end of the room stood an elderly woman volunteer, dressed in a long-skirted pioneer outfit. “Would you all care for a sample of early settler-style popcorn?”

  Annie bit her lower lip.

  Here it comes.

  No doubt Jed would give the poor woman a lecture on how unsanitary her cooking method was.

  “Yes, please,” Jed said, accepting a paper sack from the woman, then turning to Annie. “Want one?” he asked an openmouthed Annie.