Married in Haste. Roz Fox Denny

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СКАЧАТЬ Laughing makes everything worse!”

      “Hey, button eyes!” Ben set Mollie down quickly, and bent to look at Erin. He gathered her tense little body against his own. “Baby, sometimes people need to laugh to keep from crying.”

      But his words didn’t penetrate Erin McBride’s unhappiness. Her face crumpled and tears tracked down her cheeks. Holding her as tight as he dared, Ben worried that she’d lost weight since he’d done her last checkup.

      “Goodness. Erin, did you fall and hurt yourself?” Raina Miller rounded the corner and stopped in front of the trio.

      Rising, Ben gave a warning shake of his head. And Raina assumed an I see expression. No doubt she did understand. Surely those who worked with quake survivors weren’t unused to mopping up tears.

      Raina passed Ben a paper on which she’d written Abby’s address. “Normally I’d tell you to give Abby a hard time about leaving the rest of us to deal with the fallout. Except I suspect she has her hands full with her own fallout. So don’t say a word. Just give her a big hug from me. I’ll phone her over the weekend. I have a few bits of scuttlebutt she’ll want to hear.”

      Touching the paper to his brow in salute, Ben steered his nieces out of the building and toward his car. He settled both girls into the back, buckling Mollie into her booster seat. Afterward, he made a cursory check of Erin’s buckle. The first day he’d driven the girls, Erin had thrown a fit because he’d yanked on her belt. Now Ben played it cool. She’d insisted she was eight and not a baby who needed help buckling herself in. But Ben had seen some nasty injuries to kids who weren’t properly fastened in their seats. So he continued to discreetly check her buckle.

      Placing Abby’s new address on the dash, Ben realized he’d wrongly assumed Elliot’s home would be adjacent to his church. This address was a mile or two beyond that. Beach property, unless he was way off base.

      As the house numbers counted upward, he knew he was right. When at last he reached the address, he stopped and stared. The place was a rambling two-story structure built on a knoll. The backyard probably sloped to the beach. Ben imagined the view of Alki Point would be spectacular from an upper deck he could see, it extended all the way around the house. Gray shake siding, typical of homes built in the 1900s, was warped and weather-faded, but to Ben, it added to the overall charm.

      “Why are we stopping here, Unca Ben?” Mollie kicked restlessly at the back of his seat.

      “This is where Mrs. Miller said Abby’s staying. Did you know she’s caring for the Drummond boys? I think you girls know the twins.”

      “Noah and Michael pull my braids,” Erin announced. “Why is Ms. Drummond staying with them at this old house? I like where she lived before. She had an awards party for her students there. It’s nicer.”

      Ben was at a loss. How should he answer Erin? According to a newsletter the school had sent home to parents and guardians after the quake, Mr. Conrad had spoken to all classes about the personal losses many of their classmates had suffered. Ben himself had attended quite a few funerals. Too many. Wanting to spare the girls needless anguish, he’d gone alone to pay his respects. Now Ben wondered if he shouldn’t have at least discussed Abby’s situation with the girls.

      “Erin, will you unbuckle Mollie?”

      “They’ve got bicycles,” Mollie said loudly. She pointed to a cluster of bikes and trikes in a detached garage whose door opened onto the street near where her uncle had parked. “Maybe the twins will let us ride, huh, Erin?”

      Erin scowled. “They’re boys’ bikes, Mollie. We’re wearing dresses.”

      “So?” Mollie skipped ahead toward concrete steps leading up to the house. “I’m wearing tights. So what if somebody sees my slip? It’s the new one Mommy bought me before school started. That’d be okay, wouldn’t it, Unca Ben?”

      Ben glanced quickly around the area and determined that the sidewalk was fairly flat in spite of the hilly terrain. The neighborhood looked peacefully rural. “Sure, Mollie girl. You’ll have to ask Abby first, of course.”

      Erin gripped her sister’s shoulder, making the younger child flinch. “Mommy always said we had to change out of our school clothes before we play outside.” The girl faced Ben. “We have books to read until we go home. Here, Mollie, this is your library book.” Erin shoved a thin volume into her sister’s hands.

      Since the girls had returned to school after spring break, anything Ben allowed Mollie to do, Erin contradicted. Her every sentence of late began with Mommy says or Mommy did. Ben had no idea how to counter that. He’d hoped that, over time, Erin would grow to accept his authority. He hadn’t wanted to lay down the law, but plainly he couldn’t let her bossiness continue. It wasn’t fair to Mollie. Furthermore, there was no need for Erin to burden herself with parenting chores. Yet this wasn’t the time or place for a family showdown. “Stellaluna.” Ben read the name on Mollie’s book. “I haven’t read this story, Mollie. Did your teacher help you select it?”

      Nodding, Mollie shook off Erin’s hand and skipped alongside her Uncle. “It’s about bats. A mama and baby bat. Will you read it to me, Unca Ben?”

      “Later, princess. After dinner.” He smiled down at her as he reached over her head to ring the old-fashioned door bell. The bell not only didn’t ring, it fell off in Ben’s hand.

      Erin sounded horrified. “You broke Miss Abby’s door bell.”

      Not knowing what to do, and because he heard laughter and thumping inside, Ben set the pieces of the bell on the porch rail and knocked loudly.

      A sandy-haired boy of six or seven yanked open the door and squinted at them from brilliant blue eyes.

      “I’m a friend of Abigail Drummond’s. Is she home?” Ben asked.

      “Did you come to help with the toilet?” The boy’s voice seemed too deep for his age. “Water’s running all over upstairs. Aunt Abby’s mad at Mike ’cause he didn’t tell her sooner that he flushed a dead fish, and the strainer, too.”

      The boy threw the door wide and beckoned them in. Ben herded the girls into a tiled entry. From there he had a clear view into a large living room. It boasted a sweeping staircase and vaulted ceilings. Colored fish tanks took up one whole wall, which would explain the dead fish in the toilet. A birdcage, home to a squawking cockatiel, hung in a bay window. The disorder of it all shocked Ben.

      A little boy with bandaged legs occupied a huge recliner. Coloring books, crayons, toys and Tupperware containers were spread everywhere around him. Though pale, the kid seemed oblivious to the din. A TV blaring. A radio or CD playing. A raucous bird. And kids. Everywhere, kids.

      Twins older than the boy who’d let Ben in, plus another—a mirror image of the first one—huddled midway up the stairs. All were high-fiving each other, and in general making too much racket to realize they had visitors.

      All at once, a foot-high replica of an off-road truck, complete with oversize balloon tires, bounced and rumbled down the long expanse of stairs. At the bottom, the wheels spun a few times, then the truck careened across slick maple floors. Its bumper whacked Ben hard on his shins, and brought the truck to a halt. Not, however, before Ben glimpsed a rat—no, a gerbil, he decided—with a bottle cap tied to its head. Belted into the front seat of the motorized truck, the animal had obviously withstood the bumpy ride down all those steps and when one of the boys got him out, СКАЧАТЬ