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She eyed him, looking unconvinced. She had great eyes, a great color of blue. Even when they were all narrowed up like that. He took another bite of pizza and grinned at her, and an answering smile crept over her lips. She knew he was enjoying the view and she didn’t seem to mind a bit.
Now, this was an interesting woman.
AFTER BEN AND JOE LEFT for the night, Julie said to Marisa, “Bedtime.”
“What about my bath?”
“Oh, right. Bath time, I mean.” Another first. Was there any special trick to bathing a five-year-old? She looked at Carla.
“You’re on your own, girlfriend. It’s the kind of thing you can only learn by doing.” Carla lay back on the couch. “Besides, I’m exhausted from my exertions.”
Julie found the pile of boxes marked “Books” and pulled the largest one open. Every Parent’s Guide To Doing The Right Thing was on top. Julie had been reading it up until the movers arrived at her old apartment.
She paged through the index while she led Marisa upstairs, leaving Carla on the couch with a glass of wine and the Cincinnati Enquirer.
Bathing, page 42.
Remember that a child’s skin is very delicate. What seems like a reasonable temperature to an adult can feel burning hot to a young child…. Remember never to leave a baby or young child alone in a bathtub. Young children can drown in even a few inches of water and in less time than it takes to answer the phone….
How young was too young, Julie wondered. Could a five-year-old really drown in a bathtub?
She ran the water. Marisa stepped in and Julie hovered over the tub, one hand steady on Marisa’s arm in case she slipped. Marisa sat down and looked up at her expectantly. “Do we got bubbles?”
“Bubbles.” How could she make bubbles? Shampoo, maybe? Julie opened the nearest box and pushed things around inside, looking for the green bottle. She poured some shampoo into the stream of water. It bubbled beautifully, and Marisa clapped. “Bubbles!” She splashed, then looked up at Julie anxiously.
“Don’t worry, honey, just try to keep it in the tub.”
She washed the little girl’s long dark hair, then watched her splash a bit. She’d have to get some bath toys.
“All ready?”
Marisa nodded, and Julie helped her out of the tub and into a towel. She dried her off, rubbing the too-thin little legs and arms gently, hugging her through the towel as she dried off her back. “Oh, Marisa, I’m so glad you came to live with me. I’m so glad I’m your mom now.”
Marisa stiffened. Then, almost convulsively, her arms went around Julie and hugged her back. Julie almost cried.
She helped Marisa into her pajamas and made up her bed for her. “Shall we read a story? Which one do you want to read?”
Marisa knelt by the small pile of well-worn books—Julie added a bookcase to her list of things to buy—and pulled out an especially tattered one. Sharing Danny’s Dad. The story of a little boy who one day shared his best friend’s dad while his own father was away at work. The Trocens, Marisa’s foster family before Mary and George, had given it to her last year for Christmas. She’d wanted it read to her almost daily.
As Julie was tucking Marisa in, she could tell the little girl had something on her mind. “What’s up, honey?”
“Mom, can I share Joe’s dad?”
Julie froze her face, trying to keep from showing any dismay. “Well, I’m sure you can be good friends with Ben.”
“But I can’t share him?”
Julie sighed silently. “I guess you can share him a little, sometimes.”
She kissed Marisa good-night and walked back downstairs. She sat down next to Carla on the couch, poured herself a glass of wine and propped her feet on the battered coffee table. “Marisa wants a dad.”
Carla shrugged. “Everyone wants a dad. I want a dad.”
“I know. But Marisa really needs a father. More than most kids do. It’s all she talks about. It’s as if getting a mother gave her hope that she could actually get both.” Tears stung Julie’s eyes and she wiped them away.
Carla watched her, sympathy in her eyes. “So get her a dad.”
Julie snorted. “As if it were that easy.”
Carla leaned back and put her feet on the coffee table, too. “What’s so difficult about it? You weren’t planning on staying single forever, were you?”
“Well, no. But things are different now. For one thing, he has to be a really great dad.”
Shrugging, Carla said, “Then find one of those.”
“How do you find ‘one of those’?”
Carla smirked at her. “Well, it would help if you were actually dating someone.”
“Thanks so much.”
“My pleasure.”
Julie thought for a moment. “Okay, so I date. How do I recognize a great dad?”
“I think it’s just something you have to take a chance on.” Carla thought for a moment. “Don’t you think most well-intentioned people probably end up being pretty good parents?”
Probably true, for most kids. But Marisa wasn’t most kids. “But is it enough to be a pretty good parent? Marisa needs a great parent.”
“She’s got you. That’s one great parent.”
Julie shook her head. “But I know nothing.” Every new day proved that to her in alarming ways. She felt as if she were treading on eggshells with Marisa, trying not to make some huge permanent mistake.
“You know what you want to be, as a parent. Just find a guy who wants the same.”
It sounded simple, but Julie knew better. “No, he needs to be better than me. He needs to be enough to make up for me. To make up for my shortcomings. Someone who knows what he’s doing. I need to find someone who can be a great dad.”
Carla laughed. “So falling in love doesn’t enter into it?”
Julie smiled at her friend, sheepish. “Of course, I have to love him, too. But if it’s just as easy to fall in love with a rich man as a poor one, then it ought to be just as easy to fall in love with a good father as a bad one.” She collapsed against the cushions, frustrated. “Which brings us right back to figuring out which ones are the good ones. And then dating them.”
Carla leaned forward. “And falling in love.”
Julie gave her a frown of mock exasperation. “Of course, and falling in love. Sometimes you tend to harp, were you aware of that?” It was a plan, though. It just might work. “If I only date men who would be good fathers, then that’s the only kind of guy I’ll be able to fall in love with.”
“What, you figure once you’re ready to fall in love, it’ll happen with whoever is close by?” Carla hooted. “Somehow I don’t think that’s how it works.”
“Well, it’ll at least be more likely that way.”
“Okay, so you stay away from known pedophiles.”
Julie laughed. “It’s more than that. I want to find a man who will be good for Marisa, not just one who won’t be bad for her.”
Carla thought for a moment. “You know, I read an article once about where to find single men.” She had the grace to blush at Julie’s raised eyebrow. “Well, there was nothing else to read at the gynecologist’s except Cosmo and a pamphlet on breast self-exams. Anyway, it said you look for single men in the places single men are. Like, you sign up for group golf lessons because the class is likely to be filled with men. So why don’t you look for good fathers in the places they hang out?”
Julie shot her a look. “You know, that is a very good idea.”
“I know. I’m full of good ideas. I always tell you that and you never listen.” Carla leaned back, chewing on her lip. “Where does someone who would be a good father hang out?”
“I’ll tell you where.” Julie got up and walked into the kitchen. She picked up the flier she’d read earlier and brought it back to Carla. “Here’s where.”
Carla looked at it. “At parenting workshops? Wouldn’t those be full of guys who think they aren’t very good parents and need help?”
Julie brushed that aside. “Not the people attending. The guy giving the lecture.”
Carla squinted at the picture, then read the caption. “‘Maynard Frader, Ph.D., is a noted child psychologist and author of several books on parenting.”’ She shook her head. “I dunno. He looks kind of geeky to me.”
Julie snatched the paper back and looked at the picture. “That’s not geeky.” Or at least, not very geeky. “That’s warm and kindly. He has his chin propped on his hands, like he’s really listening to someone.”
Balancing her glass, Carla leaned over to look at the picture again. “Well, at least he doesn’t have a wedding ring on. But he’s no Fabio.”
“How can you even tell from that little picture? Besides, Fabio isn’t even a dad.” She sat back down and Carla plopped onto the couch next to her. “Don’t you see? That’s it. All I have to do is look for parenting experts. Or child-raising experts.” It was so simple, really. Almost elegant. “Where do you find the world’s best parents? You look for those who do it for a living.”
“Well,” Carla said doubtfully. “I suppose you could go hear him speak, maybe chat him up afterward if he doesn’t seem like a complete dork.”
“Or even if he does, a second chance couldn’t hurt.”
“So, fine, that’s one. What if you hate him? We better have some backups.” Carla reached into her purse and pulled out a notepad. She opened it to a fresh page and headlined it “The World’s Best Dad,” then added a second headline, “Candidates.”
Under that, she wrote, “Maynard Frader, Ph.D. Noted child psychologist. Author of parenting books. Kind of a dork.”
She looked up at Julie, pen poised over the page. “Now we’re cooking with gas. Where else can you look?”
“Hmm, let me think.” Marisa’s social worker had sent Julie a schedule of parenting classes in anticipation of her application to adopt Marisa. Julie dug it out and flipped to the back to look at the instructor biographies. “Okay, there are three men listed here. Of course, they might be married…”
“Or gay.”
“Right, but here are their names.” She handed the schedule to Carla, who added the names to the list, then said, “Oh. I know. The Department of Early Childhood Education at UC. They have to have some single men on faculty. And teachers. We can’t list them all, but I’ll note it down to be investigated if ol’ Frader here doesn’t pan out.”
Julie frowned and sipped her wine, thoughtful. “I still have to figure out a way to meet them. Frader, I can try to meet after his talk. But the others? I’ll have to think of something.”
Carla paused, pen in hand. “Maybe you should add experienced daddies to the list.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Like that neighbor of yours.”
Julie smiled, thinking of Ben. He was pretty cute.
Carla said, “Uh-huh. And you’ve already met that one. And judging by the chemistry I could feel from a mile away, it shouldn’t be too hard to move on from here, either.” She wrote his name down and underlined it. “I’m betting on him to hold his own.” She tore the page out of the notebook. “There you go. The hunt for the world’s best dad.”
Julie laughed. “I like it.”
“I don’t know.” Carla set the page on a pile of papers on Julie’s desk. She picked up her wine as she curled up again on the couch, tucking her feet beneath her. “I still think that whole love thing is going to get in your way.”
Chapter Three
Ben helped Joe into his pajamas. “What do you want to read?”
“Edward Overnight.”
“Edward’s Overwhelming Overnight? Oh, that’s a good one.” Ben set Joe on his feet. “Go get it, and we’ll read it.”
Joe ran over to the bookshelf and put his hand on the book, first try. He brought the book back and climbed into Ben’s lap, and they sat on the bed together, Joe cuddled under Ben’s right arm.
“‘The telephone rang. It interrupted Edward’s story…”’ Ben had read the story of Edward, the bear who wasn’t ready to spend the night away from home, until he was sick of it. But Joe wanted it every night. Lately he’d taken to sleeping with the book.
This time, after he finished reading, Ben pulled Joe around to look into his face. “Joe, you know you never have to stay overnight anywhere you don’t want to, don’t you?” Joe nodded, but he didn’t look convinced.
Ben leaned down closer. “I promise. You will never have to stay anywhere you don’t want to stay. Understand?”
Joe nodded again. “But what about at Grandma’s?”
Maggie. He knew it. She was behind this, talking to the poor kid about coming to stay with her. Scaring him out of his wits. Calmly he said, “Not Grandma’s, either.”
“But can I stay there if I want?”
“If you want to?”
“Grandma says if I stay overnight at her house, we can go to Chuck E. Cheese for lunch.”
Ben bit back a smile. Should have known food figured somewhere in all this. “Is that what you want to do?”
“Can you come, too?”
“Well, probably not. I’d stay here and work.”
Joe thought for a moment. “Then can we go to Chuck E. Cheese?”
Ben laughed. “Sure, we’ll go one of these days.” He slid Joe under the covers and tucked them snug around his shoulders, then leaned down for a kiss good-night. “Who’s my favorite kid in the whole wide world?”
Joe grinned and wiggled under the covers. “I am!”
“You’re right.”
“An’ who’s my favorite daddy?” Joe had added this lately, probably with a little help from Maggie. She really did have Joe’s best interests at heart. Feeling a little guilty at his earlier anger with her, he grinned at his son. “I am.”
“That’s right.” That was Joe’s favorite part, and he always added a few decibels for emphasis.
Ben switched on the night-light and turned off the lamp. “Night, Joe. I love you.”
In the darkened room, he could see through Joe’s bedroom window to Julie’s house. Maybe he’d call over there, apologize again for the sandbox incident. Then he saw her friend’s car was still parked in the driveway.
