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Catherine shook her head in a determinedly cheerful manner. “Nope, I’m not married. Free as a breeze.” There was a brief flash of panic crossing her new neighbor’s face, and Catherine knew he was envisioning being hunted. She almost laughed out loud. The man would die if he knew how close he was to being right, provided Monica got her way.
A quick look behind Jason brought Monica into focus. Her sister’s eyes were crossed in an obvious sign of disapproval. Monica must have thought she was being too flippant. Too bad. Catherine would be nice to the man, friendly, but only because he had a daughter she was pretty sure she’d enjoy being around. The child seemed to be such a stereotypical preadolescent it was downright funny, at least from Catherine’s point of view. But she was not going to bother struggling to understand the male mind again. No way. Forget it.
“You’re blowing it,” Monica whispered as she passed by on her way to the table. “Subtlety is the key here. We’re only planting seeds, remember?”
“Put a sock in it, Mon,” Catherine advised her sister cheerfully. “I don’t care if I blow it or not. I’m implementing plan B whether you approve or not.”
Monica, however, was not to be deterred. She switched to a high-beam smile as Jason approached the table, several cups of soda held firmly between his two large hands.
“Here we go, everybody,” Jason said heartily. “Pop all around.” But underneath the external good cheer, he just wanted to eat and get out of there. He’d been hunted too many times both before and after his divorce not to be nervous about having a single woman move in next door. He was not interested. No sirree, not him. There was no such thing as happily ever after. He’d learned that the hard way. He might take the chance if he was on his own and he’d be the only one paying the price for failure, but Maura had had enough upheaval in her young life. He was off the playing field until Maura was safely grown.
He looked at Catherine Nicholson as she sipped her drink and almost groaned out loud. It would be tough going if they had to spend any time together. No mistaking it, this was one extremely attractive woman. Even all hot and bothered looking from her rough day, Catherine exuded sex appeal. Now that his heart had dropped back down into his chest after his daughter’s disappearing act, he could see that. A good woman to steer clear of, as a matter of fact. At least until his head could convince the lower part of his body to swallow the company line he was trying to feed it.
He despaired over the injustices of life. Why couldn’t she be safely married? Or if she had to be single, why couldn’t she be ugly? But no, there was absolutely nothing harsh or unattractive about her. Hair the color of ripe chestnuts curled under gently along her jawline and it angled up toward the back of her head, forming a saucy high wedge. Her eyes were a soft, medium brown framed by thick spiky lashes, and her skin was creamy and without blemish. There was not even a single freckle with enough nerve to marr the smooth arch of her high cheekbones. And her body was nicely padded in all the places a man appreciated a bit of padding. He didn’t know if he could handle having that body right next door, unattached, available for pursuing. He ground his teeth in frustration.
You, Jason silently informed himself, had just better be on your guard. You cannot even begin to entertain the type of prurient thoughts you are already considering. Not while Maura is at such an impressionable age. Just stop it.
Jason consciously averted his eyes from Catherine’s cameo profile and sat. Catherine handed him the Mongolian beef container, so he was forced to turn his head briefly in her direction, but as soon as he had a firm grip on the carton, he returned his eyes to look directly in front of him. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
After checking around that everyone else had a plateful, Jason spooned a large amount of rice onto his plate, then topped it with an equally large amount of the beef. He tore the top off a little plastic envelope of soy and squeezed that liberally over the mound and picked up his fork. Jason had it loaded and halfway to his mouth when something Maura said earlier clicked and he dropped the fork with a clatter.
“The crib,” he said before he could think how it would sound. “You have a baby?”
Jason cringed. He didn’t mean to sound judgmental, but he was already attracted to her. And he could tell Maura had taken an interest in her, as well. He was not unaware of the lack of feminine guidance in his daughter’s life, he just didn’t know what to do about it. He had no sisters, and his former wife had “gotten on with her life,” an event that seemed to exclude her own daughter. It just might be good for Maura to spend some time with Amy and her aunt. They seemed close. But not if the woman had no morals.
“Are you divorced?” he asked hopefully. That would explain a baby.
“Divorced?” Catherine asked. “No, I’m not divorced. I’ve never been married. And I don have a baby. Where’d you get that idea?”
“But you moved in a crib,” Maura said, obviously confused. “I saw it. I was going to ask you if I could baby-sit for you. I took the Red Cross baby-sitting course and everything.”
“The crib,” Monica repeated, sounding a bit panicky to Catherine’s ears. “That’s easy to explain.”
Catherine’s eyes widened at that. It was? This she had to hear.
“It’s an heirloom,” Monica announced baldly, and Catherine blinked at the blatant lie. “Handed down through my, um, mother’s side for several generations.
Don looked up from his rapidly shrinking mountain of cashew chicken. “It is?” he asked in surprise. “I thought it was another one from the shop.”
“Well you thought wrong,” his wife told him.
“How come we didn’t use it?” her spouse continued.
“Because it’s an heirloom handed down to the youngest daughter of the family, that’s why,” Monica informed him in a rather severe voice.
“Oh,” Don said. nodding wisely. “Your family always was a little weird. Sounds like something strange they’d come up with.” His interest returned to his plate of food, and Catherine breathed a sigh of relief. This was the reason she rarely lied. Somehow the lie always snowballed, and you ended up a nervous wreck while you tried to keep things plausible and remain undiscovered in your deceit. In the process, your digestive juices turned on your stomach wall and before you knew it, presto, instant ulcer. Before she could check Jason’s face to see if he’d swallowed Monica’s ridiculous explanation, Amy interrupted.
“Aunt Cath?”
“Yes. Amy?”
“You know how we were going shopping and out to lunch on Saturday so you could get your kid fix?”
Jason’s head snapped up. He stared first at Amy, then at Catherine.
Across the table Catherine could see Monica’s eyes were closed and she was shaking her head. “Uh, yeah. What about it?” Not only did she now owe Monica another favor—since Amy had just made it clear they had already made plans together for Saturday, and it wasn’t to pay Monica back for helping today—but even a quick sideways glance in Jason’s direction told her he was back on red alert. Well. too bad. That was his problem. He’d figure out she wasn’t interested sooner or later. Meanwhile it was sort of entertaining, in a perverse sort of way, to watch him squirm.
“Well, maybe Maura could come with us. That way,” she continued brightly, “I’d have a friend and you could get a double kid fix all for one trip to the mall. Wouldn’t that be cool?”
Catherine propped her elbow on the table, her chin in her hand, while she considered the idea. Actually, it wasn’t bad. “Two for the price of one, huh? Sure, why not? It’s okay with me if it’s okay with Maura’s dad.”
“Kid fix?” Jason questioned, raising a rather formidable brow at her.
Catherine gave him an arch look in return. Let him think what he liked. “I enjoy kids. So what? Just because I’m unmarried and have no children of my own does not mean I don’t appreciate their company and value their friendship.”
“Yeah, Dad, some people like being around kids.”
“Some people aren’t responsible for a child’s formation and upbringing. They can afford to let down their guard and just have fun. I’d love to kick back and relax with you, Maura. Unfortunately, I’ve got all the responsibilities of being both parents to you, and that’s got to take precedence.”
Catherine smiled at Maura. “He’s got you there, sweet cheeks. When I’ve had my kid fix for the day, or you get bratty, I can just send you home and go on my merry way. Your dad can’t do that. He’s in it for the long haul and deserves a lot of respect. Having fun with you is the easy part. Disciplining is hard, though. And judging by what I can see, your dad’s doing one heck of a job.”
Maura looked doubtful, but Amy cut in. “So she can come?”
“If you don’t mind sharing, it’s okay with me, but like I said, Maura will have to get her father’s permission.”
Maura clasped her hands in front of her. “Please, Daddy,” she pleaded. “You can’t object to this. She’s a grown-up and everything.”
Giving permission would get him out of the doghouse with his darling progeny, but dam it, Saturday was his day to spend quality time with Maura. Not that his daughter wouldn’t probably have a better time without him around—which hurt. “Maura, I’d be willing to take you to the mall. I’ve offered several times—”
“But I want to go with Amy and her Aunt Cath. Please?” his daughter begged.
“I thought you and I could do something together that day. If you don’t want to go to the mall with me, maybe we could—”
Monica cleared her throat and smiled. “I’ve got an idea,” she said, sounding very much like the cat that swallowed the cream. “Why don’t you go along with them, Jason? The four of you could all go together and spend the day at the mall. Go to lunch. Maybe even see a movie if you get shopped out.” Monica shot an ingenuous smile at her sister.
Catherine blinked. She’d been outmaneuvered. Darn her sister’s rotten hide. “Jason might not be comfortable spending his day with three women, Monica. You know how men are about shopping. You shouldn’t put him on the spot like that.”
Jason sighed. This really was not the way he wanted to spend half of his precious weekend. Still, it was probably the only way he’d spend time with Maura without getting himself further into the doghouse. “No, it’s all right,” he said. “I’d be a fool to turn down the opportunity to escort three such beautiful women anywhere, even the mall. I’ll drive. I’ll even spring for lunch.”
“Dad!” Maura wailed. “Everything will be wrecked if you come along!”
Jason rolled his eyes. “Maura, I happen to know that the only time you even acknowledge my presence when we’re out in public is when it’s time to get out the credit cards. Otherwise I’m pretty much just a background fixture. How will my coming along ruin things?” He already knew the answer. It just didn’t make any sense to him.
“Because you’re my father!” his daughter cried. “Couldn’t you just give me some money and let me go with them?”
Jason rubbed his eyes tiredly. He wanted to be a friend to his daughter, God knew he did. Was it his fault Maura kept pushing him into the roll of disciplinarian? “Maura,” he began patiently, “by choosing to force the issue here and now instead of waiting until we’re alone and could talk this out, you’ve put me in the position where I’ll have to speak plainly and possibly embarrass you and your friend.”
Maura’s eyes widened in consternation.
“You’ve been wanting to go to the mall, and I have offered several times to take you. Here’s an opportunity for you to get what you want. But Saturday is my day to spend some time with you. I’m afraid you’re going to have to suffer my company or lose the trip.”
Maura’s lower lip was stuck out about a half a yard, Jason thought as he measured it with his eyes. This was one unhappy little girl. “Come on, honey, give a little, get a little. You’re going to have to learn the fine art of compromise.”
Catherine decided to put in her two cents’ worth. She was unwillingly starting to like and respect this Jason Engel. He wasn’t afraid to stick to his guns, not even in the face of some formidable preadolescent resistance. “Your dad’s right, Maura. You’re a very lucky girl that he cares enough to be so careful of you. Let’s give him a break and let him come along. Next time we’ll make it all girls, all right?”
Maura looked to Amy for final approval.
Amy shrugged.
Maura turned to Catherine and her father and reluctantly nodded. “Okay, I guess.”
Jason felt like he’d just won a major victory. He wanted to stand up and shout alleluia, possibly turn a few cartwheels, but he merely nodded at his daughter to indicate he’d heard. “Ten o’clock Saturday morning?” he asked Catherine.
“Sounds good,” Catherine said.
Jason looked at his plate. Somehow, in the midst of all the negotiations, he’d managed to clean it up. He pushed back his chair. “Good. Maura and I will pick you and Amy up. But for now we’ll help you clean up, and then I’m afraid we’ve got to get going. Maura’s got homework to do and I’ve got some paperwork waiting for me. Maura, you clear the table and put all the plates in the trash, and I’ll close up the containers and stash them in the fridge.”
“You don’t have to—”
“We insist, don’t we, Maura?” Her dad arched that impressive brow in his daughter’s direction.
“But—”
“Forget it, Ms. Nicholson,” Maura said, whisking Catherine’s plate away from in front of her. “Dad’s a real stickler about not taking advantage and always pitching in when somebody’s done something nice for you.”
“Oh, well...”
The table was cleared and the leftover takeout already in the refrigerator. Catherine was still in her chair. The man worked fast. She’d have to remember that. “I guess I’ll see you Saturday, then,” she said weakly.
Jason nodded, Maura was more verbose. She had her arm around Amy, and they walked to the door together. “We’ll still have fun on Saturday, even with my dad along,” Maura bubbled, her head close to Amy’s. “You’ll see. There’s just this one little problem I need to figure out.” She looked furtively over her shoulder.
Jason was no more than two steps behind. It would have been impossible not to hear, but he was getting good at pretending. In dealing with a preadolescent, he had discovered it was the better part of valor. There were enough big things you had to make a stand on that if you included the non-life-threatening stuff, as well, there’d never be a moment’s peace. So, he kept his head up and his eyes straight ahead, pretending not to hear. If his daughter thought she and her friend were going to ditch him once they hit the mall, they had another think coming.
“We’ll talk about it at school,” Maura told her friend, much to Jason’s disappointment. Oh, well, Maura wasn’t very good at keeping secrets. He’d find out sooner or later.
Catherine’s store was closed Mondays, which was why she’d chosen it as a moving day. The next morning found her back at her shop, Hand Arounds, doing her best to concentrate on the work in front of her rather than on the boxes waiting to be unpacked at her new house.
“Yes, I’m quite sure that you paid $16.00 for that blouse brand-new, Mrs. Conroy, but I’ll only be able to get $3.00 for it secondhand, which means I can only pay you $1.50 for it. The jumper would be $3.50 and I’d be able to do $1.50 for the pants. See where they’re slightly frayed? If you want to change your mind about selling your daughter’s things, I understand, but I’m afraid that’s the best I can do.”
While Catherine waited for the balking Mrs. Conroy to make up her mind, she thought about Jason Engel.
Was her sister right?
No, of course not. Monica was a nutcase. She was never right.
Well, she wasn’t totally wrong, either, Catherine admitted. The idea of trying to find a sperm bank and implement her idea was nerve-racking as all get-out. That much she’d give Monica. But Jason Engel as husband and father of her dream child? Uh-uh. No way. She’d liked Gerald, but the decision to marry him had been almost intellectual. She’d weighed the pros and cons carefully then made her choice. Her heart had been involved, certainly, but not to the extent that her feelings had overridden her intellect.
Somehow she doubted she’d get away with such lukewarm responses to any involvement with Jason Engel. Which meant that if she ever lost her heart to a virile specimen like that, she’d certainly never recover.
Catherine rang up two pair of booties at seventy-five cents each and a terry cloth sleeper for $2.50 while she pondered the problem.
She liked Maura. Under all that preadolescent angst, Maura was a decent kid who’d turn out just fine provided her dad stayed on top of things. She had a pretty little face. She’d seen it when the child had briefty stopped scowling. It would be nice if Catherine’s baby, when she came, had hair as nice and thick as Maura’s.
The girl had nice-colored eyes, too. They matched her dad’s, and the gene for brown was dominant. She could live with that, Catherine decided. Especially if they came with the same dark, spiky lashes that Maura had.
Catherine made change for a five-dollar bill and handed over the sack of clothing. “Thanks. You come in again. We get new merchandise all the time. Still thinking, Mrs. Conroy? No problem. I’m not going anywhere. Take your time.”
When it came right down to it, Catherine would like a daughter just like Maura Engel. Maybe what she should do is simply make a list cataloging all the things she liked about Jason and Maura and present it at the sperm bank. See if they had anything that would come close. She sure would like a little girl baby that would grow up with all the promise of beauty that Maura Engel displayed. Catherine looked over at the rack of pink sleepers in the newborn section.
Yes, she sure would like that.
Chapter Three
Catherine thought of little else but her new neighbor for the next two days. It didn’t really affect her work. She could sort baby things in her sleep. Someone brought in a pair of little booties crocheted to look like brown-and-white saddle shoes complete with baby blue socks, and a second pair that looked like Mary Janes also having the sock crocheted right into the pattern. They were too cute to sell. Catherine paid the woman two bucks a pair and brought them home with her Thursday after she closed the shop. She put them up in the spare bedroom with the still-unassembled “heirloom” crib. Then she called her sister.
“Monica? Hi, it’s Cath. I’ve been thinking. Since my next-door neighbor seems to have taken over this trip to the mall and claimed driving privileges before I could open my mouth, maybe it would be best if Amy stayed overnight tomorrow night. What do you think?”
“Sounds like fun. Don’s got some kind of business function that’ll probably last till late. Maybe I’ll come, too, but just for the evening. We could order in pizza and rent a chick flick, just the three of us. You don’t think Amy’s too young for a girls’ night out, do you?”
“Depends on the flick we pick.”
There was a thoughtful pause. “Yeah. Well, we’ll be careful, that’s all.” Monica cleared her throat delicately. “Uh, Cath, I’ve been doing a little investigating for you.”
Catherine closed her eyes and leaned against the kitchen wall for support. “No. Tell me you haven’t been out there asking obvious questions and embarrassing me. Monica, how could you?”
“Take it easy, I didn’t use your name. I said it was for a friend.”
“Oh, yeah, right. We’ve only lived here forever. Anybody you asked knows me and is going to put two and two together real quick.”
“Will you stop? What’s done is done. Now just listen to what I’ve found out. Cath?”
“What?” Catherine concentrated on opening a can of soup. She poured it into a bowl and stuck the bowl in the microwave. She remembered to take the spoon out at the last second.
“I really wish you’d at least consider waiting a bit longer, see if there’s a chance of things working out with the new next-door neighbor or somebody else before, you know, you go do the other thing.”
Catherine took her soup out of the microwave and stirred it a bit. “You mean before I go to the sperm bank?”
“Yes. The information I got isn’t complete, you know, because I was being so subtle and everything, but what it boils down to is there are a few things we failed to consider the other night when we were talking about this.”
Catherine retrieved the bowl of soup and carefully sipped a spoonful. “Like what?”
“Your ob-gyn is the one who would know where the closest sperm bank is. In fact, you’d probably have to get a referral from him, I bet. At least that’s what Alice Moran thought.”
“Oh, God, you weren’t talking to Alice about this, were you? Tell me you didn’t do that to me.”
“Yes, I did, and I can’t unask her, so cool it and think about what she said. It makes sense.”
