Daddy Next Door. Judy Christenberry

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      “I didn’t volunteer to be anyone’s daddy by just coming in the door, did I?”

      “I guess not,” she said, not sounding happy about having to admit it.

      “How’s Steffi?” he asked, afraid she was about to tell him to leave. He was strangely reluctant to do so.

      Steffi peeked at him from behind her new mommy.

      “She’s fine.”

      “I’m glad. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said to the little girl.

      She nodded, then hid behind the woman.

      “Well, the spaghetti is ready, and the sauce, too. And, hey, you’ve got hamburger meat in your sauce, you lucky girls!” he joked. During college, he hadn’t been able to afford meat for his spaghetti.

      “You finished cooking it?” Jennifer asked in consternation. “I didn’t intend— That’s very kind of you. Uh, would you like to join us?”

      Missy perked up at that invitation. “Yeah! You can have the daddy seat!”

      “Missy, no, Mr. Barry is not the daddy. He’s a guest. We’ll welcome him to his new apartment and thank him for his assistance. Well?” she asked, looking at him again.

      “Only if you’ll promise to call me Nick. I don’t like formality.”

      She took a deep breath and he feared she was going to refuse, leaving him no option but to decline her invitation. And he didn’t want to do that.

      “Of course, Nick. Steffi, can you and Annie get everyone a knife, fork and spoon?”

      “Yes, Jennifer,” the oldest girl said.

      “Is there anything I can do?” Nick asked.

      “No, we’ll manage. You can entertain Missy.”

      Nick grinned. He’d already entertained the little girl, but he settled in at the table beside her. “Looks like it’s you and me, Missy.”

      “You and me what?”

      “You and me who don’t have a job. We just get to watch.”

      “Oh, yeah. I’m too little. But you’re old. How come you don’t have a job?”

      Nick stifled a laugh. “Because I’m your guest.”

      “Oh.” Missy rested her chin on her hands and seemed deep in thought.

      “Is iced tea okay, Nick?” his hostess asked.

      “Yes, that’ll be fine. Uh, Missy said your name is Jennifer?”

      “Yes, I’m sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Jennifer Carpenter, and these are my three daughters, Steffi, Annie and Missy, whom I believe you met earlier.”

      “Definitely. Hello, girls. You sure look like your mother.” Okay, so he was fishing for information. He’d admit he was curious.

      Steffi looked at him and calmly said, “Thank you.” Despite her earlier emotions she was now composed.

      “Are you eight years old, Steffi?” he asked. He was pretty good at guessing the ages of children, since he’d been a schoolteacher and had several nieces and nephews.

      “No, I’m only six.”

      “Well, you seem much older.” From her slight smile she appeared pleased. “How about you, Annie?” he asked gently, realizing the middle child was much shyer than her older sister.

      She stared at him, not saying anything.

      Steffi spoke for her sister. “She’s five and Missy is three.”

      He took another look at his hostess. She certainly didn’t look like the mother of three children. Her slender form, including a very flat stomach, would’ve fooled most anyone.

      “You have a beautiful family, Jennifer.”

      After sending the girls a special smile, she looked at him and said, “Thank you.”

      She carried a platter of spaghetti covered in meat sauce, topped by grated cheese.

      “You use cheddar cheese on your spaghetti?” he asked in surprise.

      “Yes. The girls like it.”

      Her voice was cool and he hurriedly said, “I’m sure I will, too.”

      Since she added a tossed salad and warm garlic bread, he had no complaints.

      As much as he tried to make conversation, there wasn’t much talking during dinner, nor the noise he expected with three young children. When they needed it, Jennifer corrected their table manners, but she was gentle and didn’t embarrass the girls. Despite the quiet, Nick couldn’t have enjoyed the meal more—unless of course Jennifer actually spoke to him. Still, he enjoyed stealing glances at her soft honey-colored hair and expressive blue eyes. He had time to find out her story, after dinner.

      As soon as the girls were finished, Jennifer stood and said, “Thank you for joining us, Nick. We hope you like your apartment.” The polite version of “Here’s your hat. What’s your hurry?”

      Deliberately he stayed put. “I’m sure I will. Do you know the owners?”

      “Yes,” she said with some hesitancy, which made him even more curious about her.

      “Do you think I need to contact them? Aunt Grace wasn’t clear about that.”

      “No, the lease says she can sublet to a relative, so there isn’t anything the owner can do.” Diverting her gaze, she started to clean the table.

      He stood up immediately. “Let me help you with that.”

      She put a hand out to stop him, but when it landed on his arm, she yanked it back. “N-no thank you. I’ll clean up later, after I give the girls their baths and tuck them into bed.”

      “I could do it while you take care of the kids.”

      “No!” Then, apparently realizing the vehemence in her tone, she sidestepped him and regained her poise. “A guest never does the dishes, Mr. Barry.”

      “Well, in that case, Ms. Carpenter, thank you.” As much as he didn’t want to, he walked to the door, his hostess behind him. When he reached the hall, she stepped out, too.

      “Oh, look. I forgot you dropped your suitcases out here. I’m sorry.”

      “Doesn’t look like a problem. Don’t you worry.”

      “Well, then, good night.” She turned and walked back into her apartment, but something made him stop her. For some reason he felt an overwhelming urge to get to know Ms. Jennifer Carpenter. He reached out and grabbed the door before she could close it.

      “I…wanted СКАЧАТЬ