A Mother to Love. Gail Gaymer Martin

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      Rick’s smile faded. “Oh, I’d hoped I would catch you before that.” He lifted a paper bag she hadn’t noticed. “I brought you a breakfast sandwich.”

      Her chest constricted. “Really? I couldn’t decide what to eat, so I’m nibbling on an English muffin.”

      “Well, stop nibbling. I have a sandwich for each of us. Even Carly wanted to give it a try.”

      She stood back, holding open the door as they entered.

      Rick headed straight for the kitchen with Carly on his heels. When she came through the doorway, he’d pulled three packages from the sack and eyed the coffee carafe. “Do you have enough?”

      She nodded and pulled a mug from the cabinet. “Here you go, and, Carly, would you like milk or some orange juice?”

      The child glanced at her dad, who gave a nod. “Milk, please.”

      Angie grinned and poured a glass of milk from the carton.

      They gathered around the table, and when Rick bowed his head, Carly followed. As if a belated thought, he looked up. “Do you mind?”

      “Mind? No, please.” Angie folded her hands and waited.

      Rick gave Carly a nod. The child eyed her before beginning the prayer. “Come, Lord Jesus, be our guest...”

      The prayer leaped from the recesses of Angie’s mind. How often had she heard those words spoken around the table? Her father’s voice rang through her head and, fighting tears, she had to force herself to look up when Carly finished. “Thank you, Carly. I used to say that prayer when I was your age.”

      “You did?” The five-year-old looked at Rick with question. “Is the prayer really old?”

      Angie pressed her lips together to control her chuckle. Rick struggled with the same reaction as he explained it was very, very old. “Even your great-grandmother knew that prayer, Carly.”

      The child seemed to ponder what he’d said as she delved into her breakfast sandwich. After two bites her expression made it clear she enjoyed it.

      Angie enjoyed hers, too, but then she remembered Rema’s delicious muffins and wished she’d saved a couple. Maybe she’d have to learn to bake. Kids loved cookies, cake and muffins. Out of the corner of her eye, Angie watched the girl, hoping the child felt welcomed. “Carly, your daddy tells me you’re in kindergarten.”

      Carly’s face lit with a grin, the sandwich forgotten. “Uh-huh and do you know what?”

      “No. Tell me.” Angie leaned closer, enjoying the child’s animation with her hands raised as if ready to applaud.

      “Our teacher gives us fun homework.”

      “Fun homework?” She drew back, never remembering a time when she’d thought homework fun.

      Rick’s eyes twinkled. “I reacted the same way until she explained. The teacher has them go outside for activities. They had to find samples of leaves, wildflowers and acorns, and then she gave the children a list of things to find in their yards.” He grinned. “See. That’s fun homework.”

      “I imagine it is.” She got a kick out of the child’s exuberance.

      Carly’s eyes widened. “And guess what I found.”

      Angie shrugged. “A pinecone?”

      “No. I found a dandelion.”

      “I remember dandelions.” Angie pictured the yellow flowerlike weed, the bane of all the adults when, later, its puffy seeds landed in their yards. Yet her mind shot back to a day when her mom had put a dandelion beneath her chin and told her if it left a yellow stain she would find her true love. So much for dandelions.

      Rick stood. “I noticed the house on the corner has a sold sign already.”

      “I saw it yesterday. A new neighbor will move in soon, I suppose.”

      His sandwich gone, Rick wiped his mouth and motioned toward the archway. “Which reminds me, where do we start?”

      His eagerness tickled her. “How are you at hanging pictures and things?”

      “A pro.” He gave a playful grimace. “Okay, I’m not exactly a pro, but I’m not bad. I have a good eye, but I’m even better if you have a level.”

      A level? “Is that one of those wood things with the little bubbles?”

      An odd expression came over his face, and then, as if a light had turned on, he chuckled. “I suppose a person could describe it that way. Apparently you don’t have one.”

      “Apparently.”

      “I can eyeball it. It’ll be fine.”

      She loved his eyes, a deep tan sprinkled with gold dust. They twinkled as if they were mischief looking for a place to happen. “I’m sure you can eyeball it. You have very nice eyes.” She snapped her fingers. “How about a measuring tape? I have that along with a hammer and the right kind of nails for frames and things. I asked at the hardware store.”

      “Sure, a yard stick or tape measure works.” He drew back his head with a tilt. “And you even asked at the hardware store.”

      “I did.” She flashed a silly smile as he appeared to study her.

      His look gave her goose bumps. Not the scary kind but the kind that confused her. His eyes drew her in as if he read her mind. And when his dimples flexed, then vanished, she sensed he’d told himself a joke, probably about her. His subtle sense of humor was one of his attributes she loved. But today only tension grasped her. She waited to see what he’d say or tell her what he wanted, but he didn’t say a word.

      Instead he looked away without a response and slipped his hand into his pocket. After a moment, he took a deep breath. “Well?”

      She rose from the table, buoyed with excitement. “If you’re ready to get started, let’s go. I don’t want to hold you up from—”

      “That’s no problem.” He winked at Carly. “You and I saved the whole day for Angie, didn’t we?” She gave him a smile and nodded. “We have nothing else waiting, and we know you want to buy some flowers and get some planting done.”

      “I do.” She pointed to the staircase. “So, let’s get busy. I’ll show you what needs to be done upstairs, and while you’re doing that, Carly can help me decide on the flowers.”

      “I can?” Excitement flickered on her face along with the telltale dimples that validated she was Rick’s daughter.

      “Absolutely.” She loved seeing the child’s enthusiasm. “You can even help me plant some of them. How’s that for an idea?”

      “Daddy, I can help plant.” She bounced on her toes.

      “I know. Angie is a glutton for...” He rolled his eyes. “Never mind.”

      Carly СКАЧАТЬ