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Ben stepped out into the hall so Joe wouldn’t hear the conversation. Lately, his conversations with Maggie were never good and were getting worse, instead of better. Joe didn’t need to hear an argument between the two most important people in his world. “Okay, I’m back. Now, what about Joe?”
“I don’t like that day-care center he goes to.”
Ben bit his tongue and paced down the hall to keep from replying sharply. “Maggie, it’s a preschool. And he’s very happy there, and it’s only ten minutes from the job site.”
She hesitated a moment. “I think he’d be better off here with me.”
Why were they wasting time on this argument again? Ben tried to control his irritation. Pacing back down the hall and into his bedroom, he gave her the same answer he’d given her last time she’d suggested she watch Joe during the day. “That’s impossible. You’re an hour away, and I can’t see how spending two hours each day in the car is good for Joe.”
Much less the four hours Ben would spend driving Joe back and forth. But he knew better than to bring up that. “Maggie, we’ve been through this before, several times—”
She broke in, hurrying to get the words said. “I mean, during the week. He could stay here with me.”
He almost laughed. “Stay with you? You mean overnight?”
Her voice took on new resolution. “I think we should talk about Joey living here with me during the week. He could go to preschool here, a couple mornings a week instead of all day every day.” Maggie started to talk faster. “You could come get him on Friday nights, and bring him back Sunday nights. Or even Monday mornings. That way you’d only have to take time out of your workday once each week.”
Ben was speechless.
“Don’t you think that’s a much better idea than driving back and forth?” Her voice turned wheedling. “And think how much more freedom you’d have during the week.”
He gritted his teeth. She’d always thought that was the real issue with Ben. His own convenience. For a moment, resentment flared. Did she really think he liked having Joe in preschool nine hours a day? Carefully he tamped down on his emotions before he lost his temper.
She continued. “And this way he wouldn’t have to spend such a long time in day care each day. And I don’t mind a bit—you know how Joey and I get along.”
“Joe.”
“Pardon?”
“Joe. He hates being called Joey.” Ben took a breath. “Maggie, you can’t possibly have thought this idea would fly with me. I appreciate your offer, but of course I want Joe here with me.”
He could almost hear her stiffening. “Perhaps what you want and what is best for Joey are two different things.”
There it was. That’s what it always came down to. Ben’s selfishness. He felt guilty and anxious enough about Joe’s preschool schedule. He didn’t need Maggie adding to it with advice and suggestions that tore him up inside.
“I’m his father. I know what’s best for him.” He took a breath to calm himself and made a conscious effort to lower the tone of his voice. “Maggie, you know I’ve always loved and respected you. I understand you think Joe needs something different than I’m giving him. I respect your opinion, but I think you’re wrong. I understand you’re saying these things out of love for Joe. But I can’t put this any other way—back off.”
She gasped, probably at the dead-serious tone of his voice as much as the words themselves, and he felt another stab of guilt for hurting her. Then she gave an offended huff. “I am the child’s grandparent. The only living representative of his mother’s family. I have a responsibility to make sure he is being cared for properly.”
“Then I can assure you, Joe is being very well cared for. Unless you think I’m incapable of doing a good job, you’re just going to have to accept that.” He took another deep breath and tried a warmer tone. “Look, I know you only want what’s best for Joe. That’s the same thing I want. Trust me. You must know I’m doing my level best here. Do you believe that?” He paused, waiting for her response.
“Of course, Ben.” Her voice sounded muffled, flat.
“And if you believe I’m doing my best, can’t you give me enough credit to believe my best is good enough?” He hated the hint of pleading he heard in his own voice, the implication that he didn’t believe it himself.
She sighed, sounding resigned for now. “I believe you believe it.”
He shook his head. There was no winning. “Maggie, listen, I have to go. Joe’s in the tub, and it’s way too quiet in there.” At her disapproving gasp, he closed his eyes in disgust at his own stupidity. Why had he told her Joe was unsupervised in the tub?
He knew he’d never manage to keep his tongue through one more lecture on parenting practices. “Look, Maggie, we’ll talk more later.” He hung up before she could protest.
He hadn’t heard the end of it, but at least it was the end for tonight. Maybe next time he talked to her he’d have more patience.
He headed back toward the bathroom, deliberately willing himself to calm down before he walked in on his son. Joe didn’t deserve the remnants of Ben’s irritation with Maggie.
He looked at his watch. Only four o’clock, but after a full day on the site and only a half hour with his son, he was beat. Maybe he could get Joe down to bed early tonight.
He’d get Joe bathed and fed and played with and read to and put to bed and put to bed again and put to bed sternly and put to bed with dire threats. Then Ben could start mentally recharging himself for the next day. When had he gotten so old?
He stepped into the bathroom.
No Joe.
JULIE STOOD STARING at the dead phone stupidly.
In the open doorway, one of the movers grunted as all three tried to maneuver her wet living room couch through the opening.
Mrs. Malloy walked past her and into the living room with yet another body for her collection.
Julie felt like throwing the dead cell phone on the floor and stomping on it. With an effort, she controlled herself. She was a mom now, she had to be mature. All the parenting books emphasized the importance of the role model she played for her daughter. Especially since she was the female parent. Especially since she was the only parent. She had to be practically perfect. The knowledge settled like a familiar weight on her shoulders.
She took a deep breath to calm herself. It didn’t really work but she did manage to keep from doing violence to the phone.
She peered out the dining room window at the house next door. Maybe the neighbor had a cordless. Or even a phone with a long cord. There was only a slim strip of driveway between the two houses—the two identical tiny bungalows had obviously been shoehorned in on what had originally been a single lot long after the rest of the neighborhood had already been built.
Fine, she’d go meet her new neighbor.
She called up the stairs. “Marisa? I’m going next door for a minute. Carla’s here.”
“Take me with you!” Marisa ran from her bedroom into the small hall at the top of the stairs. Her nervous glance shot to Carla and back to Julie. Carla gave Marisa an encouraging smile, but Marisa was having none of it. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Carla. She just couldn’t seem to let Julie out of her sight.
Julie looked out the door as the movers tried again with the couch. “But it’s raining, honey.”
Marisa ran down the stairs. “That’s okay.”
Julie shrugged at Carla. “Okay, we’ll both get wet.”
Carla was watching Marisa. “Can I come, too?”
Marisa nodded, and Carla mouthed “progress” at Julie.
Julie laughed. “I think you’re both nuts. But, okay, we’ll all three get wet.”
The movers set the couch down half in, half out of the living room door. “Lady, I think this door is going to have to come off.”
Of course it was. Julie gave them a resigned nod.
Carla looked at her with a wide-eyed gaze. “For free? Boy, are you lucky! Is this place ever going to be nice and aired out! No better smell than a nice spring rain, I always say.”
Julie gave a helpless laugh. What would she do without Carla? Feeling quite lucky, indeed, Julie led Carla and Marisa out the back door.
It was dim under the overhang of the awning, the early March sun already setting behind the rain clouds.
“Should we just run over to their back door? It’s closer.” Carla nodded across the yard.
“Yeah, but I hate to introduce myself that way. Let’s go around to the front like civilized people. It’s not much farther, and we’re going to be wet anyway.”
She held out her hand to Marisa, but before the three of them could dash out into the drizzle, the back door of the neighboring house swung open, and a naked child streaked across the two small backyards to Julie’s sandbox.
Into which he promptly peed.
Chapter Two
“Oh, my,” Carla said.
Next door, the back door swung open again, and out ran a tallish man with short dark hair wearing jeans and pulling a faded T-shirt over his head.
“Oh, my,” Carla said.
The man stopped and scanned the yards. “Joe?” His gaze lit on the boy. “Joe! No!”
He sprinted across the yard and grabbed the child, lifting him off the ground and onto his hip. He shook his head. “Joe! What in the world are you doing?”
“I’m a cat! I need to use the litter box!” The boy struggled within the man’s bare arms. The man had no trouble maintaining his grasp, but the muscles in his shoulders shifted with the child’s movements, straining just enough to bring them into sharper focus. The misting rain added a sheen to his tan, and Julie found herself staring.
He looked up at that moment, to where Julie stood under the tattered awning. She blushed, though she doubted he could have noticed more than that she was watching him with the struggling child, who by now was shrieking in frustrated protest.
“Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” He pulled the shirt back over his head and dropped it over that of the child, walked the few steps from the sandbox and ducked under the awning. He set the boy down, but he kept a firm grasp on the child’s wrist. “My son. He’s a cat, you know. Last week he was a turtle. Apparently turtles can use toilets.” He looked from her to Carla to Marisa, who was staring at Joe with her mouth open, and gave Julie an amused grin. “Ben Harbison.”
“Julie Miles.” She held out her hand.
He took it, enveloping it in his own large one. His palm felt warm and slightly rough on hers, a little damp from the rain, and she was suddenly very aware of his nearness, as if his presence was somehow more profound than normal.
His eyes met her own, and she felt a jolt of recognition, two adults sharing the knowledge that each found the other attractive. She bit back a smile. “And this is my daughter, Marisa.” She and Marisa grinned at each other, enjoying the word.
He leaned down to offer his hand to Marisa, who transferred her rapt attention from Joe to Ben. She smiled in delight. “Are you a daddy?”
Julie suppressed a sigh of anxiety. Clearing her throat, she nodded at Carla. “And, ah, this is my friend, Carla Hartshorn.”
Carla grinned at him, all teeth, and Julie stiffened in anticipation of something embarrassing. Carla didn’t disappoint. “So, you and your wife been in this neighborhood very long?”
Julie fought the urge to close her eyes in mortification. Leave it to Carla to go straight for the marital status.
His smile twitched as he reached for Carla’s hand, his expression acute but good-natured. Julie could see in his face that he understood the question completely, and when he switched his glance to her, she almost laughed at the awareness she saw there. She smiled, sharing the joke with him.
“We’ve been here five years, and we’ll probably be here forever. We like the neighborhood. But it’s just me and Joe.” The child at his side tugged on his arm, and he gave Julie a wry smile. “Which reminds me. The one with no clothes is Joe, the terror of the neighborhood. I’ll replace the sand in your sandbox and clean it tomorrow.”
He pulled his son around to face him and leaned over to look into the child’s eyes. “Apologize to Ms. Miles, and promise her you won’t do that again.”
“But I’m a cat!” Indignant exasperation.
His father took him by the chin. “Then you better learn to be a cat with manners, because cats without them end up staying in the house a lot. Apologize.” He released both chin and wrist and straightened, expectant.
Joe eyed Julie, then looked at the ground. “Sorry.”
“And?” His father’s tone was insistent. He wasn’t letting his son off that easy.
“And I won’t do it anymore.” But as he said it, Joe cast a calculating gaze toward the sandbox, as if trying to come up with some loophole.
Julie didn’t quite know what to say. She didn’t remember Marisa ever misbehaving like this, or shrieking at anyone, not in the four years she’d known her. Plus Julie was a little uncomfortable with the fact she was talking to an almost naked person, even if he was just a little boy. “Well, that’s okay, Joe. I’m pleased to meet you, and thank you for not…um, using the sandbox that way anymore.”
She cleared her throat and looked again at Ben. “Actually, I was just coming over to ask if I could borrow a phone.” She held up her dead cell phone. “Murphy’s Law.”
He nodded. “Be my guest. In fact, it’s a portable. Joe and I’ll go get it for you. No use you getting wet, too.”
Marisa, who’d been staring at Joe again, said, “Cats don’t like rain.”
Joe stopped struggling for a moment. Julie almost laughed at the expression on his face as he considered that pronouncement.
Ben hoisted Joe back up onto his hip. “I better take advantage of the temporary lull in motion while he works that one out. Just give me a couple minutes to get something warm on him, and we’ll be right back over.”
Julie thanked him, but he waved her off. “That’s what neighbors are for. Go back inside, get out of the weather.”
Throwing the small boy over his bare shoulder, he headed toward their house. Joe bounced up and down, hooting with glee as they crossed the yard in the drizzle.
Marisa went to investigate the sandbox. Julie bit back a smile as the little girl peered over the edge, then turned to look at the neighbor’s house, her face full of curiosity.
Carla breathed out. “Man, you have all the luck, moving in next door to that.”
“What, a small boy who’ll pee in my sandbox? Yup, I’ve got the luck of the Irish, all right.”
Carla laughed. “The father, silly. He’s quite the specimen. I wonder if he wanders around without his shirt all the time? I wonder if that’s all natural, or if he works out? Want me to find out for you?” She peered over at the darkened windows of the house next door, as if trying for a peek inside. “And he’s going to be living there for a while. Did you notice I found that out for you?”
Julie gave her a wry look. “I noticed. And that he’s single, too. And, no, please don’t find out anything else.”
“Subtlety was never my strong suit.” Carla grinned. “So shoot me.”
“He is pretty cute, isn’t he?” Julie pretended to peer at the windows, too. “You know, if I trimmed that hedge a bit, I bet we could sit on the patio at night and, well, see what’s what.”
“Voyeurs R Us.” Carla kept her face straight. “I like it. We could probably sell tickets.”
They both jumped when a light appeared in one of the windows. When Ben followed his son into what was obviously the child’s bedroom, Julie gave a guilty laugh. “Guess I don’t need to trim the hedges after all.” She called Marisa, and they turned to go into the house.
The big mover was poking his head into the kitchen when Julie stepped in from the patio. “Oh, there you are, lady. Come here, I think you better look at this.”
Julie’s heart sank as she followed him upstairs, trailed by Marisa. What now?
Upstairs, in the bedroom that was supposed to be Julie’s, the mover opened the closet door. The floor was covered with water, which had splashed onto the walls.
