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Grams gave a chuckle as she ran a spatula beneath a freshly baked cookie and set it on a plate. “What were you doing in there so long? I figured you’d be out here after the first batch of cookies.”
The question slid down her spine. “I brought home work from school. You know, papers I need to correct.”
Mike grinned. “First day on the job and you’re already correcting papers?”
“It’s a teacher’s life.” She realized the twins flanked him, their eyes wide and questioning. She’d already decided not to make an issue out of their little ploy.
“Thanks for driving the girls home.” His words rang with discouragement.
A lump formed in her throat. “You’re welcome.”
He placed a hand on the top of each girl’s head. “I told them no more missing the bus. I don’t expect you to chauffeur them home from school because they were dallying.”
“But Daddy, I told you—”
Mike held up a finger, and the girls’ opened mouths closed.
“I’ve already explained I can’t give them a ride all the time.” She pressed her lips together to stop speaking. She knew in her heart, if he needed her to, she would.
“More cookies, girls?” Grams extended the plate.
But Mike held up his hand. “I think we’ve all had enough. One more, and we won’t want dinner.”
His comment drew Amy’s attention to the girls. They had a trace of a white mustache and a few crumbs on their cheeks and lips.
Mike brushed crumbs from the front of his shirt. “We need to get home, but thanks so much for the treat, Ellie, and for watching the girls.”
“It’s always a pleasure, and don’t forget my invitation.” Her grandmother’s face glowed.
Invitation? Amy’s gaze shifted from her grandmother to Mike.
“Your home cooking beats Mama’s Country Kitchen any day of the week. Thanks for your generous offer.”
The girls bounced on their toes, their faces filled with glee.
“Can we, Daddy? Really?”
He drew closer to Holly. “If you learn to behave in school.” “I behave.”
“They were excellent in class today.” Amy gave him a tender smile.
“Good.” Mike wrapped an arm around each girl. “If they can keep that up until Thanksgiving, I’ll be pleased to accept your invitation.”
Amy’s pulse kicked up a notch. What could she do? Grams had asked, and she would deal with it. While a warmth spread through her chest, beneath her buoyant thoughts, a caution sign blinked.
Mike watched the snowflakes drift into piles against the house next door. Winter had made its appearance in time for Thanksgiving. He’d held his breath since he’d made his proclamation about the Thanksgiving invitation, but Holly and Ivy had made it through the rest of the week without incident. At least, he hadn’t been notified. He avoided putting Amy on the spot by calling her to check, even though he’d been tempted. In his heart he knew his girls’ behavior would have only been a cover for his real motive. He liked Amy—a lot.
And he marveled at how much Ivy and Holly liked her. Amy seemed innovative with their lessons. Each day after school when he arrived home from work, they gave him details of stories they read, paragraphs they’d written, games they’d played with their math problems, and how they were making a bulletin board of all their drawings of different kinds of animals they were studying. Their enthusiasm bolstered his spirit.
He rose from the kitchen table and strode to the hallway, wondering if they were awake. “Did you see the snow?”
A rustle sounded in their bedrooms, and he guessed they’d just crawled out of bed. He glanced at his watch. Nine. He could have waited. His peaceful Saturday morning always ended once the girls roused from their rooms.
Holly popped her head out the door. “Can we make a snowman?”
“First I thought we’d go out to breakfast.”
“Breakfast!” Ivy appeared in pants and her pajama top.
“Can we?” “Get ready.”
Looking forward to eating out, the twins made quick work of getting dressed, and they were all on their way in minutes. Mike drove down Main Street and pulled into the Flour Garden. Inside, he greeted the owner, Manny, as he passed through the small store filled with the scent of fresh ground coffee, then past the bakery counter, Mike found a booth along the wall. He looked out the window and watched flakes setting on the large evergreen across the street. Tomorrow it would be decorated for Christmas, and the town would gather for the tree-lighting. The event lured people from their cozy homes to listen to the music and enjoy the cookies and hot chocolate as they sang carols and joined in the festivities.
Mike pulled his gaze from the snow-covered knoll and chatted with a couple of his neighbors before he perused the menu. When Jill appeared to take their order, she offered her usual smile and patiently waited while the girls decided on their choices. Mike wondered why they took so long. They usually ordered pancakes. Today was no different.
He barely downed his first cup of coffee when the food arrived, and the twins became silent as they delved into the pancakes and drank their juice. Before Mike had time to make a dent in his meal, Holly’s voice jerked his attention.
“I’m finished.”
Mike lowered his coffee cup and eyed her plate. She had indeed gobbled down her food. “You’ll get sick eating so fast.”
“But I’m anxious to make a snowman.”
Ivy took a bite of her pancake and rolled her eyes. “You eat like a pig.”
Holly spun around and grabbed one of Ivy’s pony tails and gave it a jerk. “I do not.”
Mike held up his hand. “We don’t talk to people like that.”
Ivy started to roll her eyes again before she caught herself.
“Sorry.”
He gave Holly a pointed look. “And you don’t pull people’s hair.” His fun morning vanished like a snowman in the sun. He signaled the waitress for the bill. After she slipped the tab on the table, he snatched it off, put on his coat and trudged to the cashier.
The girls squabbled behind him, each blaming the other while he tried to close his ears. One moment he rallied, and the next moment his hopes sagged. Discouraged, he trudged outside.
The sun had slipped from behind the clouds, sending prisms of light across the fluffy flakes. Mike wished his spirit shone as bright as the landscape.
“Daddy?”
He gave Ivy a fleeting glance. “What?” “I’m sorry. I won’t call Holly a pig ever again.” He didn’t know if he should laugh or groan. “Thank you.”
“And I won’t choke Ivy anymore. I promise,” Holly mumbled.
When he looked at their hangdog expressions, his anger faded. “Why do you do this? Every time I think we’ll have a nice day, you ruin it with your horrible behavior.”
Tears brimmed Ivy’s eyes, and even Holly looked crestfallen. He knelt on the ground, the snow wetting his knees. “I don’t enjoy being upset with you. Do you know that?” He slipped his arms around them. “But you can’t keep acting like this. Instead of being proud of you both, you disappoint me, and …” His voice locked in his throat.
Instead of responding, Ivy threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “We’ll be good, Daddy.”
Holly only nodded.
He gazed at Ivy, wanting to remind her that she’d said the same thing before.
“I suppose we can’t make a snowman now.”
He rose without answering and unlocked the car’s door. After the girls slipped in, he pulled away from the restaurant still weighing his thoughts.
As he approached Third Street, he turned right. Instead of home, he headed for Harrisville State Park. For once he was doing something for himself and in the process, delayed the snowman issue. He loved seeing the untrodden snow along the breadth of the shore and the white snowfall weighing the evergreen boughs.
The girls’ muttering let him know they were curious, but neither asked where they were going. He veered into the parking area to the girls’ outcries of pleasure, and as he rolled into a spot, his heart skipped when he saw the familiar dark orange hatchback.
“Miss Carroll’s here.”
Their voices sailed to him in unison. He heard the snap of their seat belts, and their door opened as a damp chill whisked into the car. He turned off the motor and stepped outside, both curious and anxious. He’d longed to see Amy again, but he hadn’t found a good excuse. Now he didn’t need one.
The twins shot ahead of him, slipping and skittering past the pavilion filled with snow-covered picnic tables. When Amy heard them, she swung around, surprise on her face, and when her eyes met his, she smiled.
But the expression appeared strained, and he faltered. “Sorry to disturb you.” His breath billowed in a white mist.
“The park’s public.” Her smile settled to a grin. “I haven’t been to the park since I moved here, and I knew it would look lovely in the snow.”
He agreed. “We’re heading home from breakfast.”
She gazed at him in silence.
He peered at his boots ankle deep in snow and tucked his hands into his pockets. He’d forgotten his gloves in the car. Tongue-tied, he searched for something to say. Then he noticed she carried a camera. “Taking photos?”
She held it up and nodded. “I want to send a few to some friends in Chicago. They don’t see pristine settings like this very often.”
“Do you live in downtown Chicago?” Mike knew little about her except what Ellie happened to mention. “I did until I lost my job.”
Now he remembered Ellie had told him about her job. “I suppose it was difficult to leave a big city for such a small town.”
A one shoulder shrug was her response. “And leaving your friends.”
“In a way. But I wanted to spend time with Grams, so it seemed a good time to make the change. It is different here.”
Before he could learn more, she walked away, stopping to snap a few photos.
When the girls noticed her camera, they waved. “Take a picture of us.”
Holly dashed for one slide and Ivy for the other. They climbed the snow-covered stairs and plopped onto the wet top before he could stop them. Feeling the cold through his boots, he could only imagine the chill the girls felt sitting on the icy metal. Amy stood between the two slides and snapped one photo then another as they slid to the ground. Their laughter echoed in the quiet. If only his troubles could be whisked away by laughter.
Ivy skipped to Amy followed by Holly, and she let them look at the digital photographs. As he approached, Holly waved him closer. “Look at our picture.”
He tilted the camera and admired the photographs she’d taken. “Very nice.”
“In the city, we have white snow for a few minutes before it turns to gray slush. I want my friends to see how pretty the snow is here.”
Her reference to friends caused him to twinge. Maybe a man waited for her in Chicago.
Ivy nestled in between them. “We’re going to make a snowman when we get home.” She tilted her head, giving him a plea-filled look. “Aren’t we, Daddy?”
Holly eyed him, too, and his frustration waned. “That was our plan.”
To Mike’s discomfort, Ivy pressed the situation. “Want to come over and help?”
Amy rocked from one foot to the other. “I’m not sure your dad needs help.”
Holly jerked his jacket. “You do, don’t you?”
He swallowed. “A really good snowman takes a lot of talented people.”
“Then you can help us, Miss Carroll. You’re talented.”
The uneasy feeling he’d felt earlier vanished when he heard Amy’s chuckle. “How can I say no to such a compliment?”
Her smile thawed his icy thoughts while he basked in summery hopes.
Chapter Five
“I can’t believe they’re still outside.” Mike stood at the window gazing into his front yard watching the twins build a snowdog for the snowman. “They’re doing a good job.”
Amy rose and joined him at the front window. “Very creative, I’d say.”
Even though his eyes were on the girls, his senses were alive with Amy’s closeness. So near, his gaze swept across her flawless skin, her cheeks still highlighted by the crisp cold. Her pink lips smiled, soft and full.
His lungs constricted, forcing his thoughts to cool it. He closed his eyes and sucked in air. “How about some of that hot chocolate the girls talked about?”
“Sounds good.” Her eyes flickered with uncertainty, yet her gaze clung to his, and he knew they were trying to read each other but both seemed unsuccessful.
He strode to the kitchen, needing to do something to keep his mind busy. He turned on the burner beneath the teakettle and opened the cabinet to pull out the mugs.
In seconds, she followed. “Can I help?”
“This is easy.” He lifted the hot chocolate mix and pointed to the label. “Just add hot water.” But then he pointed to an upper cabinet. “You can find the marshmallows, if you want. They’re up there somewhere.”
She found them quicker than he might have and set them on the counter.
“Please, have a seat.” He motioned toward the kitchen table, needing the distance. “The water will take a couple of minutes.”
Amy shifted the chair and sat, watching him.
Silence buzzed in his ears, and he searched through his thoughts for conversation. Seeing her in his kitchen, so fresh and appealing, his tongue had tied again.
“Mike, does it bother you to talk about your wife?”
