A Mother for His Twins

Home > Romance > A Mother for His Twins > Page 11
A Mother for His Twins Page 11

by Jill Weatherholt


  The weather was perfect. With a few clouds rolling in from the west, they’d serve as a cozy blanket to keep the nighttime temperature from dropping too low.

  “This is going to be a great night,” Jordan cheered.

  For years, Joy spent Saturday nights alone, usually doing her laundry and making up her grocery shopping list so she could hit the market after Sunday services. The thought of a house full of guests and ignoring the pile of clothes in need of laundering created a sense of excitement. Her heart squeezed as she studied Nick attending to his boys. The love in his eyes exploded. He really was a wonderful father. A wave of sadness washed over her as she thought about how different their lives could have been and how simple choices in life could alter the outcome.

  Nick opened the passenger-side door and helped her climb aboard. He reached for Joy’s crutches and stowed them inside the trunk.

  With the kids all loaded they set off for the market, and Joy’s shoulders relaxed. Was this what it was like to be a family? Maybe just for tonight, she could pretend that was exactly what they were—a happy family just enjoying the evening. She and Nick were husband and wife and they were going grocery shopping with their children. It was a lovely thought, but not reality.

  “Daddy, wuh like a family, awen’t we?”

  Joy flinched. It was as though Jordan had read her mind. Her cheeks warmed as she glanced in Nick’s direction. He maintained his focus on the road and appeared completely unaffected by his son’s comment. Or was he simply ignoring it?

  Was that why she felt safe? Like the herd of deer they’d seen earlier in the meadow. Protected. For the first time since childhood, she’d allowed herself to feel like part of a family and it felt good...really good. Wait, she couldn’t—it would never happen. She had to rid her mind of these crazy thoughts. They were doing this for the children. There was nothing more to it. But why did she feel like a high school girl who had just been invited to the prom by her secret crush?

  An hour later, back from their shopping trip, Joy’s kitchen smelled of lemongrass, thanks to her aromatherapy diffuser she’d plugged in ten minutes earlier. As the sun slowly dipped behind the mountains, Joy pressed the hamburger meat with the palm of her hand and carefully shaped it into perfectly rounded patties. Outside, flames danced in the firepit, thanks to Nick. She watched as he meticulously cleaned the grill. It was nice to have a man around the house to take care of such things, even if it was only for tonight.

  A smile tugged on her lips as contentment filled her heart. At that moment, she longed to talk to her sister about the array of emotions bubbling inside of her. She knew Faith would tell her to relax and enjoy the company of Nick and the boys. Stay in the moment, her sister always said, but that was easier said than done. So much hurt still lingered from the past. Joy knew it was the Christian thing to do to forgive Nick for moving. For years, she’d studied forgiveness, trying to work through her pain. Knowing what she knew now, how could she continue to blame him? His mother had been ill and his father only did what he’d thought best for the family. Still, what happened after he’d left was where she struggled. But did Nick deserve all of the blame? She forced those thoughts out of her head and gazed out the window. The children played a game of tag and were enjoying life, as children did. A yard full of kids of her own—it was what her heart desired. That, along with the principal position, would make her life perfect. Wouldn’t it?

  “Aunt Joy, don’t forget the extra cheese for the burgers. You know I love it, just like you.” Bella skipped into the kitchen through the patio door with her hair up in lopsided ponytails. Her red winter coat completely unzipped and her pullover knit sweater hiked up, exposing her little belly.

  “Oh, I know. I won’t forget.” Joy turned on the faucet and washed her hands in warm soapy water. “Do you want me to fix your hair? I think the pony rides were a little rough.”

  Bella grabbed hold of the elastic bands and pulled them loose, sending her hair cascading to her shoulders. “No, thank you. My hair hurts from these things.” She handed the bands to her aunt.

  Joy chuckled. “I’ll put these with your overnight bag. Before you go back outside, please zip up your coat. I don’t want you getting sick.”

  “But it’s warm by the fire.” She turned to go back outside but stopped abruptly. “Oh, yeah, I forgot. Uncle Nick wanted to know if you’d like for him to sweep the patio before he starts to cook.”

  Uncle. Had her niece taken it upon herself to call Nick her uncle? Or even worse, had he suggested it? The latter made her feel a little unsettled. She needed to know.

  “Sweetie, did Mr. Nick ask you to call him Uncle?”

  Bella shook her head. “No, but if he was, that would mean you guys are married. I thought I’d pretend...just for tonight.” She studied her aunt. “Is that okay?”

  Joy headed to the pantry and grabbed the broom. She handed it to her niece. “Well, just don’t say it in front of him.”

  “I already did.” Bella snatched the sweeper. “I think he liked it.” She grinned.

  She shot out the door, leaving Joy speechless. Could that be true? Did the idea of him being an uncle to Bella make him happy? A slight twinge of excitement shuddered down her spine at the possibilities. No. These were crazy thoughts. There was no future when it came to her and Nick. But what if his father hadn’t withheld the letters and Nick had tried to come back sooner...before he’d met the boys’ mother? Maybe she wouldn’t have had to carry this secret alone her entire life. She shook her head. Playing the what-if game wasn’t a good idea.

  Despite her best efforts, her mind continued to wander, thinking of what might have been until her arm accidentally brushed the platter of hamburger patties. She tossed her crutches aside and tried to snatch the plate, but it flew off the counter and onto the hardwood floor.

  Crash.

  A sea of crumbled meat surrounded her feet. Thankfully, the plate was made of plastic and not glass. She reached for the paper towels and yanked a handful from the holder.

  “Joy!” Nick came bursting through the patio doorway. “Are you okay?”

  Her hair hung in her face as she hopped on one foot to grab more paper towels. “I’m fine, but I’m afraid our dinner is splattered all over the floor.”

  He rushed to her and reached for her hands. “You didn’t cut yourself, did you?”

  Her face warmed. What a complete klutz. She always knew she was worthless in the kitchen. How much practice could you get cooking for one? “No, it’s plastic.”

  Joy got down on her knees with the towels. When Nick knelt beside her, she inhaled a spicy whiff of cologne that caused her head to swirl like a merry-go-round in overdrive. He smelled like nutmeg and some other spice she couldn’t quite place. She didn’t want to admit it, but it was a balm for her frazzled nerves.

  “What a mess. I’m so sorry.”

  “No harm done. As clean as your floor looks, we’ll just follow the five-second rule. With a quick rinse of the meat and a little re-forming, we’ll get these patties back into shape and out on the grill.” He flashed a smile.

  Their hands brushed when they both reached for the same piece of meat. They paused and their eyes locked for a moment. Heat crept up the back of her neck.

  “Why don’t you go outside and sit down. You’ve been on that ankle too much today.” His voice was gentle. “I’ll take care of this.”

  Joy pushed herself off the floor. As she held on to the edge of the countertop, Nick got to his feet and retrieved her crutches.

  “You’re going to need these.” He passed them to her with a wink.

  Her insides turned to mush. As she worked her way toward the back door, she cast a longing gaze over her shoulder, watching while Nick cleaned up her mess. She found comfort in the way he took control of the situation and his obvious concern for her well-being, but she had to shove away the warm thoughts as she moved br
iskly toward the door. They were only together tonight for the children—she knew that, but why did she have to keep reminding herself? She had to guard her heart. When her hand gripped the cool metal doorknob she wondered...were they really spending time together just because of the children?

  * * *

  Nick blew out a heavy breath when the patio door closed. Talk about sparks. His pulse had raced a mile a minute when their hands had brushed. He’d come close to whisking her into his arms. Okay, so maybe that was just a fantasy. He knew how she felt toward him for a multitude of reasons. The biggest one was the fact that there was one position and two applicants. But hadn’t there been times when her eyes looked warm and open to something more? Or was he living in a fantasy world?

  He busied himself cleaning the floor, trying to peel Joy out of his brain. Heading toward the sink, he turned on the faucet and gave the meat a quick rinse under some cold water. After blotting it with paper towels, he re-formed the patties to their original shape and applied the seasoning. There, that wasn’t that big of a deal. But Joy seemed to think it was. She appeared to get stressed easily. Perhaps she was worried about Faith, but now that he thought about it, even before she went into the hospital, he’d noticed there was something different about her. Sure, there was that tough exterior she wore, but below, at times she almost seemed skittish, like a barnyard cat. Shoving the package of hot dogs under his arm, he grabbed the plate of burgers and gripped it tight.

  Outside, Nick took in a deep breath of the crisp January night air. The air in Chicago didn’t come close to creating the invigorating sensation Nick felt when he breathed in here. “Is everyone warm enough?” he asked as he watched the children enjoying the fire. “If you want to wait inside, I’ll have the food ready soon.” He inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent of pine that permeated the air.

  Tyler darted toward his father. “Daddy, it’s warm by the firepit.” He turned on his heel and rejoined his playmates.

  Nick set the plate on the grill’s side table. “Okay, but these will cook in no time.” He slid the patties one at a time over the dancing flame.

  Joy grabbed her crutches and came to Nick’s side as the kids chattered among themselves.

  “Hey, look out there.” Nick pointed to the open field behind her house. “Do you know what that reminds me of?”

  She shook her head. “Not really.”

  “Remember when we were kids and we’d go to the Lancasters’ field and catch fireflies?”

  He opened the package of hot dogs and lined six on the grill.

  She smiled and gazed out into the darkness. “I’d forgotten about that.”

  “Timmy Biddle called you the firefly whisperer. After we counted to determine the winner, you’d make everyone immediately set them free.”

  Joy laughed. “I didn’t want them to suffocate.”

  “That’s why we punched holes in the lid, silly.” He gave her a playful nudge with his left arm.

  “I know, but I felt sorry for them. They weren’t meant to be kept in a jar. Sometimes, when I felt lonely and was desperately missing my parents, their light was the only thing I saw when I looked out of my bedroom window. They made me feel safe.” Still focused on the open space, she fingered her gold chain.

  “That’s important to you, isn’t it?”

  She turned to him. “What?”

  “Feeling safe.”

  “Yes, I guess so. After my parents were killed and I was a few years older, I remember being afraid of everything. Mostly I was scared something would happen to my grandparents and Faith and I would end up in an orphanage.” She half smiled. “Sounds kind of silly, doesn’t it?”

  “No, not to a child.” He carefully slid the spatula underneath a burger and flipped it onto its other side. The splattering grease hissed like a snake ready to strike. “When my mother got sick, I remember thinking all kinds of crazy thoughts. My father had been so stressed. I thought he’d walk out on his family—leaving me and my sister alone to care for his addicted wife.”

  Joy looked up at him. Her hazel eyes twinkled in the moonlight. “That must have been a scary time for you.”

  The mournful sound of a train’s whistle sounded in the distance. He nodded, but remained silent and returned his attention to the grill as Joy hobbled back to the fire.

  Ten minutes later, Nick placed the last patty on the ceramic platter. “I’m afraid it’s getting a little too cold out here for you guys. We should probably eat in the house. What do you think?” He turned to Joy and got his answer. She looked frozen. Snuggled with the throw blanket that once had been neatly folded on the back of the chair, she nodded.

  “Definitely—inside.” Her teeth chattered.

  The group herded inside and the kids plopped down at the kitchen table.

  Joy placed one hand on her hip. “Did you all forget something?”

  The children looked at each other and then shrugged.

  “Grace?” Tyler asked.

  Nick walked over with an oven mitt and gently tapped it on his son’s head. “Well, yes, but first go wash up.” He wiggled his hands in the air.

  In an instant the sound of three chairs scraping across the hardwood floor filled the room. The kids headed to the sink to clean their hands.

  Joy gave Nick an eye roll.

  “Don’t forget the soap,” he added, knowing his boys were famous for doing a quick swipe under the water.

  With everyone seated at the table, Joy turned to Bella. “Would you say grace, please?”

  Bella bowed her head along with the others.

  “Dear Lord, thank You for this yummy meal and for Jordan and Tyler. Oh, and don’t let the principal job make Aunt Joy and Uncle Nick fight. I don’t want to lose my new friends. Amen.”

  Silence surrounded the table until Tyler turned to his father. “You’re not going to get into a fight with my teacher, are you, Daddy?” His cheeks flushed as he tipped his chin toward his plate.

  “Bella, what would make you pray for such a thing?” Joy asked, strumming her fingers along the tabletop.

  “I heard you talking to my mommy about it. You both really want the job, but there’s only one.” Bella took a bite of her burger.

  “I think my daddy will get it,” Tyler announced. “Boys make better principals. Right, Daddy?”

  Bella slapped her bun back on the plate and pouted her lower lip. “That’s not true. Girls can do anything boys can. Right, Aunt Joy?”

  Nick’s jaw tensed. This conversation was headed in the wrong direction and it needed to stop. He didn’t want the job opening to create a rift between the children.

  Joy leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “Yes, Bella, we can do anything that boys can do. And don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.”

  “Tyler, please apologize for your comment,” Nick said.

  “I’m sorry, Bella. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” Tyler said. His lower lip quivered as he turned to Joy. “I’m sorry, Miss Kelliher.”

  Relief settled in when Joy’s shoulders seemed to relax and she leaned forward. She reached for Tyler’s hand. “I know you didn’t, sweetie.”

  The adults finished their meal in silence while the children debated which game they’d play after dinner.

  “May we be excused, Aunt Joy?” Bella asked as she wiped a dollop of ketchup off her chin.

  The boys looked at their father.

  Joy nodded. “Yes, you may. You all go ahead and play a game until I get the dishes finished.”

  Nick noticed she had glanced his way to include him. Obviously she didn’t want any help in the kitchen, but he wasn’t going to stand for that.

  With enthusiasm, the kids headed for the family room. Nick reached for his plate and strolled toward the sink.

  Abandoning her crutches, Joy jumped up and headed him off. “I’ll take that. You g
o on and play with them.”

  She was as stubborn as they came and so cute, too. Two could play this game. Nick gripped the plate as she continued this match of tug-of-war.

  “Let go.”

  He bit his lip to keep from smiling. She was serious, but so was he. “Hey, you insisted on helping when you came to my house—it’s only fair.”

  Joy’s hand dropped to her side. “Fine—even though you didn’t let me help.” She reached for the twins’ plates.

  Nick turned on the faucet to let the water warm. Joy stepped beside him, carrying two plates. He took the dishes and their fingers brushed. “Look, I’m really sorry about what Tyler said.”

  Her shoulders shrugged. “He’s just a child, but I certainly hope that’s not the kind of talk he hears around the house.” She attacked the yellow plate with the scrubber.

  Seriously? Didn’t she know that wasn’t the kind of man he was? Of course she didn’t. He’d been a kid when he’d left. She didn’t know anything about the man he’d grown up to be. “Absolutely not. My boys are being raised to respect women and to know both men and women can do anything they want in this world.”

  Outside, a deluge of rain pounded against the window. The northwesterly wind battered the shudders. It had been a wise decision to come inside to eat.

  Joy turned off the water. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ve been so stressed lately. I suppose I’m taking it out on you.”

  “So, tell me what’s bothering you. The job, Faith, or is it my presence?”

  She blew out a heavy breath and raked her hands through her hair. “It’s everything. I know it’s silly of me to think I could be a shoo-in for the job, but before you came back to town, I really thought it would be mine. Let’s not talk about this. We want the children to enjoy their evening.”

  The rain pecked against the gutters as Joy turned her attention back to the sink.

  Nick headed to the table to clear some more dishes when he caught a glimpse of The Whispering Slopes Gazette lying on the antique white buffet. He smiled as he lifted the paper. “Boy, this sure brings back a lot of memories.”

 

‹ Prev