Adding Up to Marriage. Karen Templeton

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СКАЧАТЬ Why were the lights still on?

      The cottonwood’s first crackly, fallen leaves scampered across his feet as he walked to the door, the rustle barely audible over the raucous goings-on inside. The instant he opened the heavy carved door to the hundred-year-old adobe, Doughboy speed-waddled over and plastered himself against Silas’s calf, the English bulldog’s underbite trembling underneath bulging, terror-stricken eyes.

       Why? Why you send crazy lady here?

      Then, his spawn’s shrieks of unbridled glee assaulting his ears, Silas got the first glimpse of what had once been his living room.

      Which now looked like Tokyo, post-Godzilla-rampage.

       Chapter Two

      “Daddy! Daddy! You’re home—!”

      “You shoulda been here, we had sooooo much fun!”

      “So I see,” Silas said in a low, controlled voice as he swept Tad up onto his hip while leveling a What the hell? look past the destruction at the flushed, heavily breathing, messy-haired female responsible for the mayhem.

      Who gave him a whatchagonnado? shrug.

      Woman destroys his house and she gives him a shrug? God help him.

      And her.

      Sofa and chair cushions teetered in unstable towers all over the room. Sheets, tablecloths, bedspreads—was that his good comforter?—shrouded every flat surface. No lamp was where he’d left it that morning, not a single picture on the wall was straight. And so many toys littered the floor—what he could see of it—it looked like Santa’s sleigh had upchucked.

      Leaning against his ankle, the dog moaned. See? Told ya.

      Jewel giggled. “Guess we kinda got carried away.”

      Silas forced himself to breathe. “Ya think?”

      Apparently, she got the message. “O-kay, guys, Daddy’s home, so off to bed—no, no arguments, we had a deal, remember?”

      He could only imagine. “Thought I said bedtime was eight?” “You did, but—”

      “Jewel said if we took our baths and got our jammies on,” Ollie said, “we could stay up for a bit.”

      “A bit?” Silas said. Calmly. Over the seething rage. “It’s after ten.”

      “What? You’re kidding!” Shoving loose pieces of hair behind her ears, Jewel picked her way through the wreckage to peer at the cable box clock. “Ohmigosh—I’m so sorry! The clock got covered and we were having so much fun we lost track of time—”

      “Yeah,” Tad said, curls bobbing. “We made cookies, an’ then Jewel said we could bring our toys out here, an’ then we decided to make tunnels an’ stuff—”

      “Jewel’s like the funnest person ever,” Ollie put in. “She’s not like a grownup at all!”

      There’s an understatement, Silas thought as he lowered the four-year-old to his feet, then lightly swatted both pajama-covered bottoms. “Go get your teeth brushed, I’ll be there in a sec—”

      “But we already brushed our teeth!” Ollie said, then stretched his lips back to show. “Shee?”

      “Fine. Let’s go, then. And you,” he said, pointing at Jewel, “stay right where you are.”

      She shrugged again, then plucked the boys’ quilts off two chairs. “Here! Take these back to your room!” The kids ran over, grabbed the quilts, gave Jewel hugs and kisses, and took off down the hall. Where, naturally, somebody tripped over his quilt, taking his brother down in the process, resulting in a tangle of Thomas the Tank Engines and hysterically giggling little boys. Silas sighed, sorted out his spawn and steered them to their room as Doughboy trudged dutifully behind, leaving a trail of slobber in his wake.

      The boys flew into their beds on opposite sides of the room hard enough to bang both headboards into the walls, while poor Doughboy collapsed on the multicolored carpet in the center of the floor with a noisy, relieved sigh. His little masters, however, were still high as kites from overexertion and God only knew how much sugar. In fact, no sooner had Silas tucked Tad’s quilt around him than he yanked back the covers, yelled “Gotta pee!” and flew to the bathroom, leaping over the already snoring dog.

      Silas looked at his older son. “What about you?”

      “No, I’m good,” Ollie said, pawing through two dozen stuffed animals for his ratty, shredded baby blanket which at this rate would accompany the kid to college. His bankie found, the kid pushed out a satisfied sigh and wriggled into the middle of the critters, giggling when Silas momentarily buried him in the comforter. Then his head popped out, his straight hair all staticky and his expression suddenly serious.

      “Is Gramma okay?”

      Silas sat on the bed beside him, rearranging the covers. “She’ll be fine, but her ankle really is broken. Which means she’s not gonna be able to take care of you guys.”

      Worry instantly flooded big, brown eyes. “So who’s gonna watch us?”

      “I have no idea. That’s tomorrow’s project. In the meantime, you get to hang out with me. Guess I’ll have to work from home for a while.”

      “We tried that before, remember? You nearly lost it.”

      As tired as he was, Silas laughed. “That was a year ago. You’re older now. It’ll be fine.”

      The toilet flushed; Tad zoomed back into the room and flew into his bed again. Unlike his brother, Tad didn’t need to sleep with a menagerie. But God help them all if Moothy—a smelly, one-eyed moose with sagging antlers—went AWOL.

      “Okay, you two,” Silas said, bending over to kiss Tad. “Lights out—”

      “Book?” Tad flopped around to grab a Dr. Seuss from the skyscraper-high pile on the floor beside the bed.

      “Not tonight, buddy. I’d pass out if I tried to read right now.”

      “Besides, doofus,” Ollie said, “Jewel read like ten books to us already, remember?”

      Curling himself around Moothy, Tad sulked. “S’not the same if Daddy doesn’t do it.”

      Just reach in there and squeeze my heart, why not? “I’m flattered, squirt, but reading is not happening tonight. So lights out. Now.”

      Grumbling, Tad reached over to turn off his light. Much to Silas’s relief, the kid nearly passed out before Silas finished with the nightly hugs and kisses routine, but Ollie still had enough oomph to whisper, “You know what?”

      “What?”

      “I think Jewel should be our babysitter.”

      “She’s already got a job,” Silas said as he smoothed back his son’s soft, straight hair. “She was just filling in because it was an emergency.” СКАЧАТЬ