“I want you to have fun,” Paul said emphatically.
“Oh, Paul,” she breathed. “Don’t you think I am? Kelsey, the boys and I had a marvelous time today planting our garden. I’ll have those memories all my life. This morning with the children was the most wonderful part of my day—not my date with Rob.”
“You should slow down, then,” he continued gruffly. “There’s no need to keep the house and yard spotless. I feel guilty enough as it is without you working all hours of the day and night.”
If Leah had ever heard an exaggeration, this was it. Her housekeeping skills could best be described as adequate. Her interest in planting a garden had come about as the result of a project the boys had brought home from preschool—a seedling inside a Dixie cup. She’d worked hard on the garden, yes, but it was a labor of love.
She couldn’t, wouldn’t slow down. It was partly because of her sense of duty, partly her need to keep busy. Other than summer holidays, this was her first work experience outside a classroom since she was five years old. There was a whole lot for her to learn, to explore.
“I’m enjoying myself.”
Paul looked as though he didn’t quite believe her.
“I am, honest.” She leaned forward and placed her hand on his forearm in an effort to convince him. The action had been instinctive, but the instant her hand touched Paul’s arm, Leah realized it was a mistake. She wasn’t sure why, except that her heart leapt.
Even hours later, as she lay awake in bed, her mind refused to let go of that moment. She’d removed her hand immediately, and the conversation had continued, but something had changed.
Only Leah didn’t know what it was.
She wasn’t good when it came to relationships. She’d never been good with them. She recognized love; love was easy. Her feelings toward Kelsey and the twins were as strong as any mother’s. Diane might have given birth to the children, but Leah was the one taking care of them now, and her protectiveness toward them was fierce.
In some ways she supposed she loved Paul, too. But on a different level. One that was less clear, less straightforward.
They’d bonded. That was the only logical explanation for what had happened to her when she touched his arm. They’d been through so much together. The trauma of Diane’s death. Her funeral. And now the raising of the children. Naturally that had created a bond between them.
This bonding phenomenon, this closeness they now shared, would explain the physical response she’d felt when she touched him. It wasn’t a sexual response. Or was it? Leah didn’t know. If she’d had more experience with relationships, she might be able to define it better.
Rob had touched her that night, too. His kiss had been probing and urgent. She hadn’t liked it, had wanted to rub her lips and erase it when he’d finished.
But with Paul, her senses had leapt to life, and she’d been intimately aware of him. Their eyes had met, and his had stared relentlessly into hers.
Rob had kissed her, and she hadn’t felt a fraction of the sensation she had when she’d briefly touched Paul’s arm. It was Rob she was dating, though. Rob she’d be spending time with. Rob who’d asked her out.
Now that she had time to think about it, Leah realized she’d prefer it if Rob didn’t phone her next week. His insinuations about her and Paul had insulted her. And yet…maybe there was some truth to them, although she hardly dared to express it. If it was true, that bothered her even more. It just seemed…wrong.
Leah felt trapped.
Rob seemed eager to continue their relationship while she felt content without him, satisfied to put everything between them on hold. True, she’d been the one to contact him, but only because Paul had insisted.
It was obviously important to Paul—a matter of pride, even—that she continue to see Rob. As though this was the one thing he could do to ease her load. Nothing she’d said had persuaded him that she was pleased with the status quo.
Her inability to describe her feelings adequately frustrated Leah. For the first time since Diane’s death, she felt that her anguish had begun to lift. The children had raised her spirits, returning to her the gift of laughter. It felt so good to wrap her arms around them, to let go of her grief.
Leah smiled to herself in the dark. She hadn’t thought of it in those terms before. Being with the children meant she was absorbed by their needs. And because she had to consider their feelings ahead of her own, she found herself grieving less. Not that she didn’t miss Diane just as much, but that loss no longer felt like an open wound.
Leah couldn’t be around the children and continue the melancholy patterns that grief had brought into her life. She was the one who’d benefited from coming to live with them. Now if only she could make Paul understand that….
As he’d promised, Rob called Leah Monday evening, right after she’d finished clearing the dinner dishes. Paul answered the phone and, without a word, handed her the receiver. Although he left the kitchen to give her privacy, she couldn’t shake the feeling that wherever he was, he’d be able to listen to her side of the conversation.
“Hello, Leah.”
“Hi, Rob.”
“How are you?”
“Fine, thanks. You?”
“Good.”
She wondered if their conversation could get any more banal. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“Will you be free Saturday evening?”
“Ah…yes. I shouldn’t have any problem getting away.” Paul would make sure of that.
“Great. What about a poetry reading in Blaine? I know it’s a bit of a drive, and we probably won’t get back until late, but I think the effort will be worth it.”
“That sounds…nice.” It sounded boring, but Leah didn’t feel she had any other option. If she made an excuse, Rob would be convinced there really was something between her and Paul. And Paul seemed to find it vitally important that she date Rob.
Leah didn’t have a lot of friends. Her best friend had always been her sister, and her only other really close friend, Linda Potter, was traveling in Europe this summer. Getting out with Linda occasionally might have eased Paul’s concern, but since she was away, Leah was stuck with Rob.
“Wonderful. I’ll pick you up around six, then,” Rob said.
They spoke for a few more minutes, the same insipid comments that had marked the beginning of the call. Leah hung up, wondering what it was about Rob that had ever interested her. Instinctively she realized they were destined to be no more than casual friends. She also realized it wasn’t Rob who’d changed, but her.
No sooner had she ended the conversation than Paul entered the kitchen, his eyes searching hers.
“That was Rob,” she explained unnecessarily.
“I gathered as much,” he said, revealing no emotion.
“We’re going out again on Saturday evening.” She didn’t have the courage to tell him it was to a poetry reading for fear Paul might laugh, and then she would, too. And laughter between them would be so intimate.
The doorbell chimed just then, and Paul, looking as though he meant to say something else, left to answer it. Leah didn’t know if she should be grateful for the interruption or not.
She was arranging the last of the plates in the dishwasher when Elizabeth Manning walked into the kitchen, smiling affectionately when she saw her.
“Hello, Leah.”
“Hello!” She greeted Paul’s mother warmly, drying her hands on a kitchen towel. Before Diane’s death, the Manning parents had been mere acquaintances, but over the past few months Leah had come to love and appreciate them. “When did you get back?”
“This morning.”
At the sound of their grandmother’s voice, the twins raced out of the back bedroom and hurled themselves at Elizabeth’s legs, shrieking with excitement.
Elizabeth laughed and reached down to hug her two grandsons.
Leah smiled at the boys’ glee. They’d missed their grandparents. After she’d come to live with Paul, the older Ma
nnings had taken a two-week trip down the Oregon coast in their motor home.
“There’s coffee made,” Leah said, getting four cups while Elizabeth gave the twins two giant seashells she’d brought back for them. Ryan and Ronnie were thrilled with their gifts. They dragged their grandmother down the hallway to show her the picture of their mother that Leah had put up on the bedroom wall.
When she’d finished pouring the coffee, Leah carried the tray into the living room, where Paul was sitting with his father. He glanced up and smiled at her.
Elizabeth returned with the twins and they all sat down. Elizabeth and Eric were on the couch, with the boys at their feet. Paul was in his recliner and Leah across from him. Kelsey was crawling around on the floor, and after a moment Elizabeth picked her up. Kelsey struggled momentarily, but settled down in Elizabeth’s lap to investigate her necklace and then taste it.
“It’s good to be home,” Eric was saying to Paul. “I suppose we should’ve phoned first, but we were eager to see how everything was working out for you.”
“We’re fine, Dad.” Paul’s eyes drifted to Leah.
It had been going well, better than either Paul or Leah had expected. There’d been adjusting on both their parts, but they’d created a comfortable routine. The children were thriving. For a long moment Leah and Paul simply stared at each other.
Leah suddenly realized she needed to say something to break the silence. “Everything is going just great,” she confirmed, clearing her throat. She was grateful when Ryan clambered onto her lap. Not wanting to be outdone by his brother, Ronnie joined him. Leah had to peek out from behind the boys’ backs. “The twins and I visited the school earlier this week and registered for kindergarten classes.”
“We went to the big kids’ school,” Ryan said eagerly.
“Since the boys have summer birthdays, I was a little concerned about whether they’d be ready for kindergarten,” Leah explained.
“But Leah had them tested, and it looks like everything’s a go,” Paul said, sounding pleased.
“Although I did request the morning session,” Leah added. “The boys still need their naps.”
“We do not,” Ronnie denied righteously. “I’m almost five.” He held up his hand, splaying his fingers. Ryan quickly imitated his brother.
“I remember when my boys were that age,” Elizabeth said, smiling broadly. “Your daddy felt the same way. ‘Five’s too old to nap,’ he insisted, but I put him down every afternoon because I needed the peace and quiet myself.”
“I’m thirty-six years old,” Paul said, looking at Leah, eyebrows raised, “and my mother still tells tales about me.”
“I always will,” Elizabeth told him. “It doesn’t matter how old you are, you’ll always be my little boy.”
Paul’s parents left an hour later, after relaying a few of their adventures along the Oregon coast. The visit was a good one.
Leah envied Paul his family. He was close to his siblings and parents. Leah and Diane only had each other. Their mother suffered from a personality disorder, and their father had abandoned the family when the girls were barely old enough to remember him. Leah’s grandparents lived on the other side of the country, and she could recall visiting them only once. They’d died while she was in her teens.
Diane had loved Paul’s family, too. She’d never complained about problems with her in-laws, and made a point of giving Paul ample opportunity to do things with Jason and Rich, his two younger brothers.
Leah wasn’t well acquainted with Paul’s siblings, but she knew they’d all pulled together—particularly the boys who, unlike the sisters, lived in Seattle—to help Paul after Diane’s death. Paul’s pride had stood in the way, and he’d systematically rebuffed their efforts. He’d grudgingly accepted hers, Leah realized, because he’d had no other option.
Things were better now. They’d all begun to adapt. The changes that were taking place in their lives were positive ones and for that, Leah was grateful.
The following Saturday, Paul was in a foul mood—and he didn’t know why. The day had started well, but by evening it had deteriorated. Leah’s date had arrived shortly after dinner, and Paul had barely been able to look at the man.
Ryan had wanted ice cream sometime later, and for no reason at all, Paul found himself saying no. The boys had looked shocked when he snapped at them and quickly retreated to their bedroom.
Feeling guilty, Paul had gone in after them, apologized and then together they’d dished up huge bowls of ice cream. The boys had put on their own toppings and smeared chocolate syrup all over the counter. Paul had conscientiously cleaned up the mess.
He didn’t want Leah coming home from her night on the town to find the kitchen a disaster.
He thought back over his day, which had been a good one. That further confused Paul. If he’d had to cope with one frustrating event after another, he might be entitled to a foul mood. But he hadn’t.
That morning he’d played softball with his brothers. He’d forgotten how much he enjoyed sports, and was disappointed that John Duncan would be returning the next week.
Leah and the kids had surprised him by coming to the park to watch the last couple of innings. It felt great to hear Leah cheering him from the stands. In all the time he’d known his sister-in-law, he’d never heard her raise her voice. He’d played his best when Leah and the kids were there, and afterward, for a treat, he’d taken everyone out to McDonald’s.
The afternoon didn’t explain his rotten mood, either. He’d repaired the screen in Kelsey’s bedroom without a hitch. He’d even had time to mow the lawn. The twins had followed him with their plastic mowers, blowing bubbles into the bright June sunshine.
Leah was in the backyard with Kelsey, planting the herbs she’d picked up at the local nursery. She’d never grown them before and wanted to see how well they did. He’d teased her about having a green thumb, and the sound of her laughter had lingered long after he’d gone into the house.
Before he knew it, dinner was on the table and Leah was getting ready for her date with Rob Mullins. Paul had tried to act nonchalant. He was happy she was going out, wasn’t he? Hell, making sure her social life continued was the least he could do. He had to give her a chance to get away from the daily grind of looking after the house and the kids.
Rob seemed like a decent enough guy. A bit on the boring side, but then he hadn’t expected a math professor to be a stand-up comedian.
Once the kids were asleep, Paul went into his den and turned on the computer to work on his novel.
He should be thrilled about the opportunity. Overjoyed.
But he wasn’t.
His attention span was short, his thoughts on everything but his novel. He worked late, forcing himself to review the five chapters he’d written before Diane’s death, making a few changes and corrections as he went.
It was well past eleven when he finished reading. The novel was good. At least he thought it was, but what did he know? Not much, he decided.
He had no reason to delay going to bed, but was strangely reluctant to do so. The boys would be awake before six; he’d told them to crawl into bed with him when they woke up and let Leah sleep.
He checked on the kids, who were sleeping soundly, and glanced at his watch, wondering how much longer Leah would be out. She hadn’t told him what time she’d be back, and he hadn’t asked. Not that it was any of his business…
He sat down in the living room with a novel he’d been wanting to read, but his mind kept wandering. The image of Rob taking Leah in his arms and kissing her sprang, fully formed, into his mind.
Without understanding why, Paul was furious. He slammed the book shut and stood abruptly, his chest heaving with exertion. If Rob was kissing Leah, it had nothing to do with him.
Clenching his fists, he sank back into the chair and opened his book. It didn’t make any difference. The anger simmered just below the surface, looking for an excuse to erupt…but there wasn’t anyone to pick a fight wi
th. Except himself.
He was going to stay awake and wait for her, Paul decided. He didn’t care how late she was; he was going to sit right in this chair until she was home. If she didn’t come home…well, he’d deal with that when the time came. He’d have to do some serious thinking about the situation if it turned out Leah spent the night with Rob Mullins. He didn’t want an immoral woman raising his children, he thought heatedly.
Leah? Immoral? Come on! Paul wanted to kick himself. He’d never known anyone more forthright and honest.
He heard a car door closing, and his heart went into a panic. He leapt off the chair as if he’d been doing something illegal. If Leah invited Rob inside, he didn’t want them to think he was waiting up for her.
Hiding in his bedroom and turning off the lights wouldn’t work, either. They would’ve already noticed the lamp on in the living room.
Thinking quickly, Paul dashed into Kelsey’s room. Carefully, so as not to wake her, he scooped her up from the crib and hurried back to his chair, holding his small sleeping daughter in his arms.
He’d been seated no more than a couple of seconds when Leah slipped quietly inside the house. She paused when she saw him and Kelsey, her expression immediately worried.
“Is she sick? I knew I shouldn’t have left her when she was teething.” The concern in her voice eased Paul’s loathsome temper. He glanced down at the slumbering infant. If Kelsey’s teeth were bothering her, he hadn’t known it. She’d been a perfect baby all evening.
“She’s been fussy this week,” Leah said, looking guilty. “I’m sorry I—”
“Kelsey’s fine…now,” Paul said, gently placing his daughter against his shoulder and patting her back. He felt like a fool playing this game with Leah—a fool and a jerk—but he didn’t have the courage to tell her the truth. “I was just going to put her back to bed.”