His Ideal Match. Arlene James
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Название: His Ideal Match
Автор: Arlene James
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
isbn: 9781472072108
isbn:
“Seems we were both there at the urging of family,” Carissa said drily.
“I know it’s going to help,” Hilda exclaimed, throwing out her arms. Hooking one mighty appendage about each of their necks, she gave both a squeeze. Carissa winced as her head knocked against Phillip’s.
The wretch chuckled. “Hilda, you’re priceless.”
The good-natured cook chortled then let them go.
Carissa looked away—and caught her eldest son’s disapproving frown. She couldn’t think of anything that Nathan did approve of these days, but she couldn’t really blame him. Since they’d lost the house, they’d had to move into her poor father’s tiny two-bedroom apartment. There was no space for a growing boy to take a deep breath, let alone play. Her father’s illness didn’t help, either, though he never complained about the noise or chaos. Nathan, more than the other children, understood what his grandfather’s illness meant. It was no wonder he wasn’t happy.
She thought of her aunt’s and uncle’s urgings to get the children into church again and wondered if that would help. They’d gradually fallen away after Tom’s death. She had struggled to get an infant and two rambunctious little boys dressed in their Sunday best and out the door week after week on her own, but what was her excuse now that the children were nine, seven and four?
A clock chimed somewhere, bringing Carissa out of her thoughts.
“I need to get to work. Let me help you settle the children.”
“This way. This way,” Hilda urged, waddling off down the hall. She began detailing the preparations she’d made: coloring books and crayons, games, puzzles, toys. She even had a box of dress-up clothes gleaned from “Miss Odelia’s big closet upstairs.” Little Grace beamed with delight.
Carissa marched the children into the room, hugged each one and thanked Phillip Chatam for his assistance. Ready to focus on what lay before her, she began to mentally plan her workday as she started back down the long hallway. She just needed one good day without distractions to ensure her job for another month. She knew her stuff; she could sell enough tech support to see her family through the immediate crisis. One good day on the telephone without three children bouncing off the walls of a too-small apartment—that was all she asked.
Thanking God for an aunt and uncle willing to help out, she tried not to worry. Hilda could manage three small children, and it was a very large house. Surely they would be all right for one day. With a man like Phillip Chatam around, she dared not risk more, and the same went for grief support meetings.
She didn’t need those meetings anyway. Tom had been gone for four years now; emotionally, she’d come to terms with his loss long ago. Aunt Hilda and Uncle Chester were trying to help her prepare for what was to come, of course, but Carissa didn’t believe in borrowing trouble. After all, didn’t the Bible say not to worry about tomorrow? Each day, according to Matthew, had enough trouble of its own. She could certainly vouch for that. It seemed to her that it was time for things to go right for a change, if only for one day.
Just one day...
Chapter Two
Tiny Grace Hopper possessed a miniature version of her mother’s face, framed by board-straight, light red hair cut raggedly just below her ears. That and her mother’s rich blue eyes made for an adorable combination. Phillip couldn’t help being entranced, just as he couldn’t help being dismayed that Carissa Hopper was the mother of three kids.
Children had never figured into Phillip’s life. He didn’t have anything against them, he just didn’t feel any particular need to have them. Plus he knew less than zilch about them, even though his mother was a well-respected pediatrician. Still, he knew cute when he saw it, and Grace Hopper was cute with a capital C. He laughed when, upon spying a small basket, Grace hopped up and down, clapped her dainty hands and squealed, “Muffins!”
Her brother, the one without the glasses, ran across the room and tore into the ginger muffins with all the finesse of a starving hooligan. Before Hilda could stop him, the older boy did.
“Stop it, Tucker! That’s rude.”
“Ginger muffins. Mmm...” Tucker argued, his mouth full of the same.
Phillip watched as Hilda quickly parceled out the muffins then shook his head as she trundled toward him.
“You,” he teased, “are a woman of mystery. I know you have a son and daughter and grandchildren, but no one ever said anything about nieces.”
The fiftysomething cook waved a hand. “Silly man. Chester’s brother Marshall has two girls. Carissa is the oldest.” Hilda sobered then, quietly confiding, “No one has a clue where the youngest, Lyla, is. Crying shame. Marshall isn’t well. Lung cancer,” she whispered.
“Sorry to hear that,” Phillip murmured.
“I’m going to tell!”
The pounding of small feet accompanied the threat. First one small head then another dashed past Phillip and out the door.
“Tucker! Nathan!” Hilda scolded. “You come back here.”
Phillip stepped out of the way, but before Hilda could squeeze past him, the boys shot through the central corridor and into the back hall. Huffing, Hilda sent Phillip an aggrieved look that he read too well. Wryly, he went after the boys. They had caught Carissa Hopper before she’d even made it out of the house and were arguing loudly about a stolen muffin.
Phillip broke into a jog as Carissa ordered, “Lower your voices. Now.”
“He stole my muffin!”
“You weren’t going to eat it!”
Arriving on the scene, Phillip quickly intervened. “There’s plenty for everyone. No need to argue.”
The older boy whipped around, snarling, “It ain’t none of your business.”
His mother gasped. “Nathan Alexander Hopper,” she rebuked firmly. “You apologize this instant.”
Sullenly, the boy dropped his head, but after a moment he muttered, “Sorry.”
“I expect you to look after your brother and sister, not misbehave,” Carissa went on. “You know I depend on you.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And, Tucker, you mind your manners,” she instructed the younger boy.
“Yes, Mama.”
“Go now, both of you.”
After some grumbling, the two boys reluctantly started back down the hallway toward the sunroom. Carissa gave Phillip an exasperated look, as if he were somehow to blame, and spun sharply on one heel.
“Now, wait a minute,” he began, piqued.
“I’m sorry,” she snapped as he fell into step beside her. “It’s just that I have to work.”
“And that,” СКАЧАТЬ