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Julie looked up at the ceiling of the closet at a large, dark stain. As they watched, a drop of water formed and fell to puddle on the floor, splashing the walls.
Marisa looked at the wet spot, then up at Julie. “If we had a daddy, I bet he could fix it.”
BEN KNELT ON THE FLOOR in front of Joe’s bed and hustled the now-shivering child into a sweatshirt and sweatpants. Joe’s feet were clammy as he slid socks over them. “Weren’t you cold out there?”
“N-no!” Joe shook his head, stubborn. “Cats aren’t cold outside. Cats are cold inside, though.”
Ben bit back a laugh and gathered the child into his arms, rubbing him to warm him. He held him close for a moment, enjoying the feel of the small body in his arms. How much longer would Joe let his father cuddle him close? Ben felt a pang of yearning, part of him wishing he could keep Joe four years old forever. Nuzzling his neck and making snarfing noises, Ben carried Joe to the living room, grabbing the portable phone on his way out the front door.
The two of them stepped under the front porch overhang at the new neighbors’. The front door was off the hinges, so Ben called in through the open doorway, “Telephone man.”
Julie came around the corner, her red and white sweater setting off the flush of her face—not to mention hugging her curves. The faded jeans didn’t say anything bad about her, either. She smiled at him, her lips parting in a fascinating way. The little girl, Marisa, followed right behind her, almost clinging to her side.
He held up the phone. “It should be all charged up, and at this distance you shouldn’t have any trouble. But if you do, I can bring over the charger.”
She shook her head. “Won’t do any good. No electricity.”
Marisa tugged on Julie’s arm. “It’s ’cause we don’t have a daddy. A daddy could turn the lights on.”
Ben watched Julie bite her lip and sympathized. Joe was almost as good as Maggie at making Ben aware of all that he was not. He smiled at Marisa. “I thought you people just liked having the lights out.”
Marisa laughed, and as he watched, Julie relaxed ever so slightly. “It was supposed to be turned on, but they still haven’t gotten to it. That was one of the things we needed the phone for.” She glanced over her shoulder as Carla walked into the room from the kitchen. “I was going to sic Carla on them.”
“Grrr,” said Carla.
He turned the handset over and started pushing buttons. “Here, let me try.”
“I’m sure Carla can handle it.”
Carla said, “Oh, let him try. Men love fixing problems. Makes them feel useful.” She grinned at Ben.
He finished dialing, then listened while it rang. “Alberta Owen, please.” He waited a moment while the call was transferred.
Her line clicked on. “Alberta.”
“Alberta. Baby. Sweetheart.” He smiled, waiting for it.
“Ben! Ben Harbison, you better not be sweet-talking me for help at four fifty-five at night. I’m late for the door.”
“Guilty.”
“Rascal. What is it?”
“My new neighbor. She was supposed to have her power turned on, but it hasn’t happened. She’s moving into a dark house with her little girl.”
“Address?”
“Fifteen sixty-five Glenbeck.”
“Oh, right next door, hmm? And is she pretty, this new neighbor?”
His eyes shot to Julie, who was watching him. “Uh, yes.”
“And will this make you the hero?”
He coughed. “Well, it wouldn’t hurt any.”
“Mmm-hmm. So Alberta gets to play Cupid, does she? Let me see…” He heard her fingers on her keyboard. “Mmm-hmm, should have gone on today. I can take care of it from here.” Another few keystrokes. “Okay, ready?”
“Ready.”
The living room’s overhead light came on.
Carla gasped.
Marisa clapped, and when Joe said, “My daddy can do anything,” she turned to Ben, her eyes shining.
Ben grinned and looked at Julie. She was staring at him in astonishment, her mouth slightly open. He said into the mouthpiece, “Thank you, Alberta.”
“Mmm-hmm. Invite me to the wedding, hear?” She clicked off.
He pressed the off button on the phone and held it out to Julie. She stared at it for a moment, then at him. For a moment, her deep blue eyes on his, he was sure he’d blown it. Too sure of himself, as usual. He toned down his grin for a moment.
Finally she smiled back at him. “Do you know anyone at Cincinnati Water? They keep saying they’ve turned the water on, but there’s no water.”
Ben swallowed. “Er…did you check the main valve to the house?”
Carla snorted.
Julie narrowed her eyes at her friend in exaggerated irritation. “The main valve? No one said anything about a main valve.”
Ben tried not to smile. “I’m sure very few people know about it. It’s practically a secret.”
She turned her mock displeasure on him. “Just go get a wrench or something, okay?”
“Right. C’mon, Joe.” He made his escape.
Ben found his tool belt and strapped it on, then walked around Julie’s house until he found the water shutoff valve. Yep, it was off. He adjusted the fitting, then walked back into her house, Joe at his heels. “Try it now,” he said.
Julie walked into the bathroom under the stairs, and he heard the water running. She came back out. “It’s brown, but at least it’s running.”
Joe, apparently realizing he was trailing around after a bunch of adults doing boring stuff, turned to Marisa. “Do you like swings?”
Marisa nodded and smiled shyly at him.
“Want to go swing?”
Marisa nodded, and the little boy grabbed her hand and tugged at her. She turned to Julie.
Julie glanced through the open doorway. “Well, it’s starting to get a little dark….” She looked at Marisa. “But at least it’s stopped raining. Go ahead, honey.”
The two children ran off, and Ben followed Julie into the kitchen. She watched as they ran through the backyard to Ben’s house. She turned to him, frowning slightly. “They’ll be okay, won’t they?”
Ben nodded. What could happen to them? “They’re just out in the backyard. It’s probably been a pretty boring day for her, with moving and all.”
She bit her lip. “I guess we can see them from here. Well, then, now that I have water—” Carla smirked, and Julie ignored her “—I guess I’ll start unpacking boxes.” She opened one of the cupboards and coughed as dust flew out.
He glanced over her shoulder into the cupboard, which was thick with dust. “Why don’t you let me wipe out those cupboards for you before you put stuff away?”
She smiled. “You’re hired.”
Carla grabbed her purse off the kitchen counter. “Sounds too much like work to me. I’m off for those curtain rods. Back in a flash.” She waved goodbye on her way out, and Ben heard her tell the movers the door better be back on its hinges when she returned. So she’d be back. He’d better work fast.
Julie smiled at him. “Thanks for the offer of help. You really don’t have to stay.”
Ben shook his head. “I don’t mind at all. A little adult company is always welcome.” And now that they were alone, he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity. He grabbed a bunch of paper towels from a roll and wet them at the sink. “And I can see you have your hands full. I guess all single parents do.”
She turned slightly away from him, leaning over to open a box. “It’s just all so new, I guess.”
He tried not to leer at her backside, with limited success. It was a very nice backside. What the hell, she couldn’t see him. He jerked his gaze from her jeans as she turned around. He had to think a minute before he could remember what she’d just said. “Ah, what, being a single parent?”
She nodded. “I just adopted Marisa two days ago.”
“Brave woman, walking into single parenting with your eyes open.”
She laughed. “I don’t know how open they were.” She turned half away, started rinsing a pile of plates one by one, stacking them on the counter, her arms graceful, in and out of the water. “I was her guardian ad litem for four years. She’s been in foster care, and when she had to be moved to a new foster home, I just couldn’t stand to see her have to start all over again.”
“So you decided to adopt her? Just like that?”
“More or less.” She made a wry face, and he guessed it had been a little more complicated than that. She dried the stack of plates and set them into the cupboard above the dishwasher.
“Do you get a lot of people telling you how much they admire you?”
She laughed. “Yes. And so far I’ve felt like I’m doing a totally unadmirable job.”
“Oh, that never ends. It’s always going to be harder when you’re going it alone. You don’t have anyone to bounce your thoughts off.” He shook his head. “Or if you do, sometimes they end up making you feel worse.” She turned to him, concern clear on her face, and he gave her a wry grin. “I’m guessing I’m not making you feel any better, here.”
She laughed at that. “Not at all. But next time you need to bounce some thoughts off someone, come bounce them off me. I’ll try not to make you feel worse.” She smiled, that fascinating curve of slightly parted lips. What was it about her smile? If he didn’t watch out, he could lose himself in it.
She crossed to the stack of unopened boxes again, struggling for a moment opening one. He pulled his penknife out of his pocket and squatted beside her, his knees brushing hers lightly. She moved out of his way, and he wished she hadn’t.
For the next half hour, while the movers put the door back on its hinges and cleaned up after themselves, he and Julie worked together, she unpacking boxes, rinsing dishes and pans, and putting them away; he wiping cupboards and trying not to obviously watch her stretching and bending and doing other fascinating things.
Just as Julie was finishing stacking pots in the cupboard under the stove, Carla returned, her arms sprouting curtain rods, and Marisa came in from the backyard with Joe. “Julie…Mom, I mean. I’m hungry.”
“Me, too, Dad.” Big surprise. The kid had a hollow leg.
Julie looked as if all she wanted to do was collapse on the couch, but she grinned at Marisa. “I hope you’re willing to have peanut butter for dinner, then, because I am not up to cooking.”
“How about we call for pizza?” Ben looked around for the phone. “My treat—in honor of Marisa’s first day in her new house.” He gave Marisa a smile, and she rewarded him with a bright one of her own. Nice kid, that one. “You do like pizza, right?”
Marisa nodded, her eyes wide. “I love pizza.”
“Yea, pizza!” Joe jumped up and down. “Spicy Tomato, Daddy!” He turned to Marisa. “That’s the best one. But LaMama’s is good, too. We get pizza all the time, so we know the best ones.”
“Well, not all the time,” Ben said.
“Yeah, we have macaroni and cheese sometimes, too.” Joe pursed his lips. “I like Power Rangers macaroni and cheese better than Rugrats, Daddy.” He turned back to Marisa. “But if we get Spicy Tomato, we have to eat all of it, because Spicy Tomato isn’t as good at breakfast. LaMama’s is, though, huh, Daddy?”
Ben grinned, a little weakly. Carla said, “That’s what you get for teaching kids to talk.”
AS THE FIVE OF THEM WERE eating the pizza, Ben picked up a flier that had been delivered with it. Noted Parenting Expert Maynard Frader To Speak.
That Frader idiot again. Maggie was forever clipping his column and bringing it with her when she visited. He tossed the flier on the table.
Julie picked it up. She pursed her lips. “This is what I need.”
“That windbag! What about him?”
Julie laughed. “Maybe you should at least hear what he has to say before you call him a windbag.”
“I’ve read his column. The man has no idea of the real challenges facing parents.”
“He’s supposed to be an expert.”
Some expert. “How can he be an expert when he has no kids of his own?”
“He has a Ph.D., that’s how.”
Carla was watching them, her avid gaze switching from one to the other as if she were watching a Ping-Pong match.
Ben bit his tongue. Better to say nothing than to get himself in trouble.
Julie eyed him suspiciously, as if she knew what he was thinking. “You think you know all the answers, don’t you?”
He shrugged. “Of course not. I just know what’s best for my kid.”
“And you don’t think you could improve things?”
“Not by listening to a bunch of advice from someone who probably doesn’t know any more than I do.”
Julie frowned at the flier. “But how could it hurt?”
“It could confuse you, that’s how it could hurt.” He took a bite of pizza to give himself a minute to think. “He says one thing, someone else says something else. Who’s right? You just have to trust your instincts.”
“That’s your whole parenting plan? Trust your instincts?”
He shrugged. “It’s worked so far.”
