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“Look, Rachel won’t be gone for long,” Sydney told her sisters in the restaurant. “She’ll be back from the ladies’ room before we know it…so listen up, we need to talk.”
“About what?” Sasha asked, dipping a French fry in ketchup and nibbling the end. “This curfew thing?”
Sophie looked interested.
“Not just the curfew,” Sydney said. “But Dad in general. He’s so protective. It’s weirding me out.”
“Me, too,” Sasha agreed.
Sophie automatically whispered, “Me, three,” the onion ring she held in her fingers for the moment forgotten.
“We’ve gotta do something,” Sydney declared. “And we’ve gotta do it now. Or he’s going to ruin our lives. We’re going to be teenagers next month.”
The other sisters nodded, all three growing silent as they pondered. Any passerby would have gotten the impression that the girls were contemplating paradise.
“We need to find some way to get him to stop pestering us about where we’re going and who we’re with and when we’ll be home.”
Sasha’s mouth curled up derisively. “This is Dad we’re talking about. That’s never going to happen.”
Insulted, Sydney shot back, “It could happen. All we need is a plan.”
“What we need,” Sophie said, “is to present Dad with something other than us to concentrate on.”
“His patients have always taken up a lot of his time.” Another French fry disappeared between Sasha’s lips.
“It’s not nice to hope people get sick.” Sophie dropped the onion ring and wiped her fingers on a napkin.
“I’d never do that.” Sasha looked aggrieved. “I was just sayin’—”
“What we need,” Sydney said, “is a diversion for Dad.”
“Hey!” Sophie’s dark eyes lit up. “Remember when Dr. Greg hired that nanny a couple months ago? Miss Jane turned his life upside down.”
“We’re too old for a nanny,” Sydney said.
“Jeez, Sydney, you’re so infantile.” Sophie rolled her eyes. “I’m not talking about a nanny for us. I’m talking about a nanny for Dad.”
Her sisters looked at her as if they thought she had lost her marbles.
Again she rolled her eyes. “A woman…for Dad.”
“Eeewww!” Sasha’s face scrunched up tight. “What woman would want Dad? He’s old.”
“Wow, Sophie,” Sydney breathed, “you’re a genius. I remember Dr. Greg called Dad and Dr. Travis and asked them to come into the office for those emergency meetings of theirs lots of times. All about Miss Jane.”
Sophie looked more sure of herself. “And come to think of it, Dr. Travis is pretty shook up over having Miss Diana came to live with him, too.” She took a moment to ponder.
“How are we going to get a woman to come live with us?” Sasha was clearly baffled.
“We don’t really need to have some woman in our house…do we?” Trepidation weighed heavy in Sydney’s voice.
Sophie shook her head. “All we need is a distraction. Something that will take Dad’s focus off us. Like Miss Jane captured Dr. Greg’s attention. And Miss Diana has Dr. Travis’s. We need for Dad to get all worked up. Just like Dr. Greg and Dr. Travis. We need Dad to get so upset that he’ll call special meetings and stuff.” Her brow furrowed suddenly. “Wonder why men can’t work out their woman troubles by themselves?”
“That’s what we need!” Sydney said. “Or rather, that’s what Dad needs. Woman troubles.”
“Okay,” Sasha agreed, “but we’re right back to where we were before. Where are we going to find a woman who would be the least bit interested in our father?” Again, her face screwed up as if the mere idea was downright repulsive.
“Lots of kids at school have parents who are divorced,” Sophie said.
Sasha blurted, “Hey, Debbie’s mom is single.”
“Don’t even go there!” Sydney shivered. “Could you imagine Dad hooked up with Debbie’s mom? That woman is too snobby for her own good.”
“I’m with you,” Sophie said. “I don’t mind going to Debbie’s party, but I don’t want her to be my step-sister.”
“Jeez,” Sasha said, anxiety lighting her eyes, “you never said this woman-trouble thing would turn into anything permanent. I don’t know…” She was obviously having some serious second thoughts.
“Hey,” Sophie said, “I don’t want Dad to get married…or…or even have a steady girlfriend any more than you do. But if we’re going to have any fun during our teenage years, we’ve gotta do something!”
Sydney spoke again, “And if there’s any chance of Dad gettin’ married, I sure don’t want to be related to any of the kids from school. Talk about weird.”
All three were silent as they thought about their dilemma.
Finally, Sasha said, “Well, I hate to keep bringing this up, but we still haven’t solved the problem of finding a woman.”
Just then Rachel arrived back at the table.
The clear and obvious solution smacked all three of the girls in the face at the same instant. Their eyes widened as they looked at one another.
And then they burst into gales of giggles.
Rachel cocked her head to one side. “What scheme are you girls hatching now?” she asked.
The girls laughed all the harder.
“I’m so glad you saved me a few of those onion rings,” Rachel said, swiping one from the plate and popping it into her mouth. Then she slid into the booth next to Sophie, like an innocent lamb strolling into a butcher’s shop.
Chapter Two
Something odd was going on. The girls’ behavior was…fishy. They seemed to be arguing among themselves, Rachel thought. However, their voices never rose above a hushed whisper and they seemed to engage in this secret battle only when they went into the dressing rooms to try on outfits. And every time Rachel was stirred to intervene and probe the problem, they would smile up at her innocently and make some remark that led her to believe that they were deliriously happy with their siblings and all was right with the world.
Yes, something was definitely fishy.
In the department store, Rachel had slipped into the fitting area with a lovely dress made of a fabric she thought Sydney would love. As she stood on one side of the curtain, Sophie and Sydney on the other, Rachel overheard Sophie snap, “I will not let you ruin my evening.”
To which Sydney had replied, “But this was your idea!”
Rachel had no clue what Sydney had suggested that might spoil their shopping trip at the mall, and she hadn’t a chance to hear another word as Sasha rushed into the fitting area behind her, loudly calling Rachel’s name and proclaiming how much she adored the dress Rachel had chosen for Sydney.
Luckily, whatever hullabaloo had been brewing between the triplets eventually subsided and died away completely. Or seemed to, at least. And two and a half hours after arriving at the mall, having visited only one major department store and three apparel shops, the girls were outfitted for the party.
“These after-Christmas sales are great,” Rachel said, smiling through her fatigue. “Your dad is going to be quite pleased when he learns how much money we saved.”
Judging from the girls’ lukewarm reactions, Rachel came to the conclusion that frugality wasn’t in their adolescent dictionary.
“What do you say we stop at the food court for an ice cream before we head home?” she asked them.
Their reactions to this suggestion weren’t the least bit hesitant or halfhearted. Rachel just shook her head and laughed.
Once the four of them were seated, each feasting on a mound of ice cream smothered in various toppings, Sydney said, “Rachel, would you consider coming to the party with us?”
Her spoon had been poised midway between her dish and her mouth, but Rachel forgot all about luscious fudge sauce, so surprised was she by the question.
Sasha piped up, “Oh, you wouldn’t be coming as a guest. You’d be a chaperone.”
“I see.”
Was that hesitation Rachel saw in Sophie’s expression? But when next she looked, the child’s face was filled with a smile, even if it was tight-lipped.
Sophie said, “Debbie’s mother asked last week if some of the parents could come to help out, but…w-well…we didn’t really want—”
Rachel smiled. “I understand. When you’re twelve years old, adult supervision is the last thing you want.”
She slipped the fudge-encrusted spoon between her lips and rolled the chocolate around in her mouth. After she swallowed, she asked, “But don’t you think you ought to talk to your dad about this? His feelings might be hurt if you don’t give him the opportunity to attend the party.” She hastily added, “As a chaperone, of course.”
The triplets looked at each other, and Rachel got the distinct impression that they were actually communicating by some sort of mental telepathy. It was silly, really, but then again, she’d read that identical siblings often had a special bond.
Finally, Sydney said, “Would you go?” She averted her gaze and added, “You know, if Dad says it’s okay?”
Rachel looked down at her dish of ice cream, swirled her spoon in the whipped cream and nudged at the cherry as she dealt with the sudden emotion welling inside her.
Warmth filled her heart, and unexpected tears blurred her vision. The love she felt for these children was overwhelming at times. Here they were, getting ready to go to their first semiformal party, one of them even contemplating experiencing her very first kiss, and they were asking her to be a part of their special evening.
Memories bombarded Rachel. In the blink of an eye, she was standing beside her best friend’s hospital bed, promising Olivia that she’d watch out for the girls. That she’d help to nurture them. That she’d do all she could to see to it that they grew into intelligent, well-rounded, happy individuals.
Olivia wasn’t here to attend the triplets’ first fancy party. Olivia couldn’t snap any pictures of them all dressed up for the evening. Olivia couldn’t give them advice about boys, or buy them pretty dresses, or act as a chaperone.
So Rachel would step forward and do all of these things.
“What’s wrong?” Sophie asked, a frown biting deeply into her young brow.
“Why are you upset?” Sasha put her spoon down and stared at Rachel with worry in her gaze.
“I’m fine,” Rachel assured them softly. “I was just thinking…”
She let the rest of her words trail off. The girls didn’t need to be reminded of sad memories of their mother and what she and they were missing. No, this should be a joyful time for them.
“I was just thinking how happy I am that you asked me to go with you.” She grinned at them. “I’d love to chaperone the party.”
“Great!” Sydney said. “Now maybe Dad will let us stay out later than twelve-thirty.”
Ah, Rachel thought, so the curfew had been what motivated them to invite her along. Leave it to practical, outspoken Sydney to burst Rachel’s heartwarming fantasy of playing mommy.
But Rachel didn’t feel hurt. She smiled, catching the eye of each one of them. The girls had no idea of the depth of her love for them, she was certain. She might not be their mother, she might not have given birth to them, but she sure did love them bunches and bunches. Like any mother loved her children.
Scooping up another spoonful of ice cream slathered with fudge sauce, Rachel said, “I can’t promise you that your curfew will be any later. But I can promise you that I’ll be at that party. With bells on!”
Sydney, Sophie and Sasha looked satisfied. Almost too satisfied.
Sloan looked in the mirror and straightened his tie. He was feeling pretty awkward about the New Year’s Eve party he was about to chaperone for his daughters.
On the one hand, his heart felt all warm and mushy from his having been asked to attend. His emotions might have been categorized as something less than masculine by any male who wasn’t a father. But he was sure dads all over the world would understand perfectly what he was going through. When the girls had approached him about chaperoning, their eyes had looked everywhere but at him, and their voices had been hesitant. They’d been as cute as little ladybugs. There had been no way he could have refused them.
But on the other hand, he’d be lying if he said he was really looking forward to this event.
His daughters would be laughing and gossiping, as girls their age were wont to do. However, they’d also be interacting with their friends. With boys. That idea just didn’t sit well with him.
He wasn’t a total idiot. He knew his girls had to grow up. But did they have to do it now?
Couldn’t they wait? Like…a dozen or so years? Maybe then he’d be ready for this stage in their lives. As it was now, he wasn’t prepared at all.
Then another question floated through his brain: was any father ever ready for his little girls to grow up? He seriously doubted it.
Scowling at his image in the mirror, he murmured, “Growing up, indeed.”
His daughters were only twelve. They were too young for parties that would keep them out after their curfew. They were too young to be dancing with boys. Flirting with boys. Kissing boys—
He snapped off the thought as surely and as thoroughly as if it had been a lightbulb. He didn’t mind plunging his brain into total darkness. Anything was better than continuing along this line of panic-inducing ponderings. If he didn’t shut these thoughts down, he’d change his mind altogether and make Sydney, Sasha and Sophie ring in the New Year right here at home. And they’d never forgive him for that. Never.
So…how bad could the evening be? he wondered. He would be present at the party to watch all the goings-on. And when it came to his girls, he had the eye of an eagle.
The doorbell rang and Sloan grumbled under his breath. His daughters had probably offered one of their friends a lift to the party and had forgotten to tell him about it. He didn’t mind. He only wished they would keep him apprised of the plans they made, then revamped, then revised yet again.
“Girls,” he called down the hallway toward their rooms, “I’m going down to answer the door. You’d better hurry it up. It’ll be time to go soon.”
Sounds of frantic scrambling and panicked shrieks made him smile. One thing about his daughters, they could have five full hours to get themselves ready, and still they’d need more time.
He was still chuckling when he reached the front door and pulled it open. The sight he beheld made the grin on his face freeze as if his mouth had suddenly turned to solid concrete.
It was…it was…
Rachel smiled a silent greeting, stepped inside, closed the door behind her and then let her dress coat slide from her shoulders.
Thoughts refused to form coherently. Hell, they refused to form at all. It was as if his brain had completely shut down.
He took a deep breath. Forced himself to swallow. And blink, once, then again.
She looked too stunning for words.
