One Of A Kind Dad. Daly Thompson
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Название: One Of A Kind Dad
Автор: Daly Thompson
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Fatherhood
isbn: 9781408957998
isbn:
IN THE YARD, LILAH tried to still the trembling of her hands. She wanted and needed this job so badly. But she hadn’t intended to become a member of Daniel Foster’s family. She’d imagined herself slipping in at nine and out at five, a human vacuum cleaner, nothing more. This situation might be too intimate. She’d wanted to stay invisible. But she had to have a job. For Jonathan’s sake. And this one was her best bet.
Worry was wearing her out. To distract herself, she studied the house. The patterned wood shingles were painted lavender, with the molding details picked out in dark purple and turquoise. It was an enormous place, with a turret rising into the sky. She’d entered the clinic through a separate entrance that had its own stoop and overhang, with a discreet brass plaque on the door that read, Serenity Valley Veterinary Clinic, Daniel Foster, DVM. and in front of it, the small graveled parking area where she’d left her car.
She gazed back at the fancifully painted building. The man she’d just met didn’t look like a lavender, purple and turquoise kind of person. She’d read his name on the door plate, wondered if he could be the Daniel who was Nick’s foster father, and was expecting to see an old, fatherly country vet, not someone close to her own age, undeniably masculine, tall, lean and muscular. She’d felt a moment of fright when she walked into his office, and she wondered—would the sight of a large, powerful man always have this effect on her?
The thought was enough to dim her mood, her hopes, the illusion of confidence she’d been able to maintain after that first uncomfortable minute. If Daniel offered her the job, she’d stay as far away from him as she could.
He seemed to be a kind person. His sandy hair, which fell across his forehead, made him look boyish. His eyes were an interesting color—mocha, she’d call it. They were thoughtful eyes, assessing, analyzing her while they talked.
But you never knew. Bruce had been attractive, too. And she’d let herself become dependent on him; too dependent to run away from his abuse, too afraid she couldn’t raise Jonathan on her own.
His years in prison had changed her. Now, even though she had no money, she was independent. Confident in her ability to give Jonathan the important things—love, support, emotional security. She’d never again let a man take control of her life. But just being a housekeeper wouldn’t be taking a risk, would it?
Daniel appeared at the back door. “Come on in,” he said. “Dinner’s almost ready.”
Here we go. My future and Jonathan’s depend on the next few hours.
DANIEL HADN’T CALLED THE boys to dinner yet. He wanted them to barrel in one or two at a time, as they usually did, so Lilah wouldn’t grab her son and run screaming from the chaos.
The fact that the kitchen was relatively empty seemed to unnerve her for a second, but then he saw her face as she took in her surroundings. The old-fashioned maple cupboards, which rose high enough so that even he needed a stepladder to reach the upper ones, the big range and the even bigger refrigerator. The old brick floor, worn smooth by the feet of several generations of occupants. The round table that sat in the middle of the room surrounded by mismatched chairs. The table centerpiece: a bicycle helmet instead of flowers.
He couldn’t read her expression. Was she thinking it wasn’t quite as clean as a kitchen should be for a houseful of children? Was she appalled by the oilcloth cover on the table? If that was it, was she out of her mind? Did she have any idea what laundry problems real tablecloths and napkins would cause?
He reminded himself to postpone showing her the laundry piled in the basement until after she’d accepted the job.
“Jesse, meet our job applicant, Lilah Jamison. She and her son are staying for dinner.”
Jesse, stirring something in a gigantic pot, wheeled around on his good leg. “Major Jesse O’Reilly at your service, ma’am.” Having done his duty, he whirled back to the stove. Jesse didn’t want a housekeeper, and he’d spoken pretty crisply. Then he stopped stirring, and slowly turned back to take another look at Lilah. His expression changed. Daniel could tell that now he was seeing her not as a potential interloper, but simply as a nice-looking young woman who needed feeding.
Jesse dipped a spoon into the pot and held it aloft. “Mind tasting this stuff?” he asked her. “Might need more salt.”
She joined him at the stove, instantly looking comfortable with the situation she’d walked into. “It’s just right,” she told him, licking her lips.
“When’s dinner?” Nick and Jonathan shot through the door, Nick yelling the question at Jesse.
“Hold on, hold on,” Jesse grumbled, and focused his attention on Jonathan.
“This is Jesse,” Nick said to Jonathan.
“And this is Jonathan, Lilah’s son,” Daniel explained.
Jesse gave Jonathan the same thoughtful gaze he’d given Lilah. “I need a junior opinion on this stew,” he said, and handed spoons to the boys.
Daniel wondered if Jesse was starting to look a little obvious. At just the right time, Will raced in through the door. “Brunswick stew,” he shouted. “I could smell it all the way upstairs.”
“Hey, Will, you almost knocked Nick over.”
Daniel smiled at Jason, noticing how his voice had deepened even more in the past few weeks, seeing how he ruffled Will’s hair and smiled even as he scolded him.
“You said four boys?” Lilah murmured, looking stunned by the sudden frenzy of activity.
“Yeah, it just feels like more. That’s why we do a lot of yelling around here. Have to, if you want anybody to hear you. Meet Jason, he’s the blond one—and Maury, the one who looks like a football player, which he is. This is Lilah, and this is Jonathan. Did anybody let Aengus in?”
“I’ll do it,” Jason said.
“We’re moving in on it, kids,” Jesse said. “Grab a couple of those round loaves of bread out of the pantry, Sergeant Jamison. Step lively. It’s that door over there.” He pointed with his stirring spoon and juices dripped on the floor.
“The rest of you boys get that table set and everybody sit down. You’re startin’ to make me dizzy.”
NOBODY’S LIFE COULD BE this good. The boys threw cutlery and plates haphazardly onto the table and sat down at once, including Jonathan. Shyly, Lilah joined them.
“What can I get you to drink? Water? Wine? Beer from my secret stash?”
“Water, please,” she said, “and thank you.” Secret stash? He was a closet drinker? While he harbored a houseful of foster boys, he drank himself into oblivion night after night?
“Good choice,” he said. “I was down to my last beer—I have one every Saturday night after I get the kids to bed, and the wine is the stuff Jesse uses for his fancy beef stews. The alcohol boils off,” he explained, as if he thought she might be planning to report him for serving wine to children.
So. Not a big drinker. He СКАЧАТЬ