“But you don’t think I should leave the girls with them?”
My expression must’ve betrayed me because Nick said, “It’s okay; tell me what you’re thinking. I want to know your honest opinion. Is it because they homeschool their children?”
“No, I think homeschooling is amazing. It’s nothing I could do, but those Kempner boys are smart and polite.” I checked on Travis and Hailey who’d ridden down the seashell driveway to the paved bike path and were now riding in figure eights. “I like Doug and Caroline a lot, but homeschooling and living with all those boys would be an adjustment for Hailey. Travis, on the other hand, could have his bags packed in five minutes.”
Nick gave a sad smile. The Kempners had five boys under the age of eight. “Their very own basketball team!” Travis had enthusiastically observed. “And they don’t even have to go to school. Can you believe that?”
I picked at a flake of paint on the railing. The house had been repainted just a few years ago but was already beginning to peel due to the harsh ocean environment.
“So, what are you going to do?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I don’t know. But now that the funeral is over, I need to make a decision.”
He looked defeated, and I scrambled to say something helpful. Before I could, Travis honked the rubber horn on his bike. “Come on, Mom. We’re going to be late.”
“On my way,” I called.
I placed my helmet on my head and adjusted the chin strap. “Children adapt easily. Way better than adults. I’m sure both Hailey and Gabby will be fine with whatever you decide. The Kempners are great parents, and their boys seem happy.”
Travis honked his horn again, and Nick shoved his hands into his pockets. “You’d better go. I’ll see you later.”
“See you later,” I repeated, although I immediately regretted the words. I didn’t need to see him later. I needed to avoid him, because whenever I saw Nick Peterson, I was consumed with a desire to throw my arms around him. I wanted to cling to him and help him through this difficult time. I wanted to take care of him and let him take care of me.
But as evidenced by our kiss on New Year’s Eve and my desire to hug him this morning, throwing my arms around him would only lead to wanting more. And wanting more was not something I could afford when I had a child to raise and a heart to protect.
Turning away, I bounded down the stairs, determined to distance myself. When I reached ground level, however, Nick called my name.
“Yes?” I replied, turning around with an eagerness that was pathetic.
“Would you come with me to meet the Kempners? I’m . . .” He held out his hands in a surrendering motion. “I’m in way over my head and could really use your help.”
One look at his pleading eyes had me saying yes. So much for resolving to maintain my distance. Fortunately, he’d be leaving soon, and I wouldn’t have to fight my heart’s foolish desires much longer.
Nick
L
ater that morning,
I met Anna and the Kempners at Casa Jose’s, the festive Mexican food restaurant on Harbor Street overlooking the bayside of the island. Years ago, the building manufactured large ships, but now it sold the best breakfast tacos in the state of Texas.
Over the holidays last year, I’d eaten at Casa Jose’s with Ethan and Ivana several times. Being at the restaurant without them, especially given the reason for today’s meeting, proved more difficult than I’d anticipated. In fact, everything about being on the island without my brother and his wife proved more difficult. I kept imagining that instead of dying, they’d gone on a cruise and had convinced me to babysit the girls for a few days.
Inside the restaurant, I placed Gabby in a high chair and handed her a graham cracker before sliding into the booth next to Anna. Doug and Caroline Kempner sat across from us with two-year-old twins who epitomized the phrase
active toddlers.
The boys clambered over their parents, played with the sugar packets, and hid underneath the table.
The Kempners’ three older boys, ages eight, six, and four, occupied a separate booth where they’d constructed an interesting structure made entirely from salt and pepper shakers. “It’s the Great Pyramid of Giza,” the oldest one said.
Anna grinned. “Impressive!”
Despite my misgivings about the girls living with the Kempners, I could tell Doug and Caroline were good parents who loved their children. Like Anna, they were patient and treated their children with a respect I often saw missing in other parents.
The adults made small talk until our food arrived. Just as I took the first bite of my omelet, Gabby lifted her sticky hands in the air and screamed, begging to be rescued from the confines of the high chair right now. The twins imitated her by screaming and lifting their own hands before bursting into bouts of laughter. As if insulted, Gabby screamed even louder.
I dug through the enormous diaper bag until I found the baby wipes. Then, as patiently as possible, I set to work on the intricate process of cleaning my niece’s chubby fingers. Of course, Gabby didn’t want her hands cleaned, so she arched her back and shrieked.
I couldn’t help but laugh at the incredibly loud and obnoxious sound such a little thing could produce. “If you hold still, this will only take a minute. Honestly, how can one tiny baby be so controlling?”
Doug chuckled. “It’s a special talent they’re born with.”
When Gabby was finally clean, I pulled her out of the high chair, sat her on my lap, and patted her shoulder. “Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
She giggled and touched my face as if her tantrum had been all for show. I glanced at Anna and saw she was smiling at us. I smiled back, hoping she didn’t regret coming with me this morning.
Doug gestured toward Gabby. “She’s quite a handful, isn’t she?”
“She’s precious,” Caroline said, her eyes suddenly moist. She sniffed as if trying to hold back tears, and the twins engaged in a round of dramatic sniffing and giggling.
Doug placed a loving arm across his wife’s shoulders. “It’s going to be okay, honey.”
I had no idea what was going on, but I had a feeling they wouldn’t be adopting Hailey and Gabby.
“Caroline adores the girls,” Doug began. “We both do, and we’re devastated by the loss of Ethan and Ivana. We want to help, but—”
“I’m pregnant,” Caroline said, forcing a smile. “With triplets.”
If I was a character from one of the cartoons Ethan and I used to watch on Saturday mornings, my jaw would’ve hit the table. Instead, I simply stared, speechless.
Anna spoke, voicing my thoughts exactly. “Wow. That’s unbelievable.”
Caroline nodded. “We’re thrilled, of course. And shocked. You may know that our three oldest sons were adopted. The twins were a surprise, but this pregnancy—”
“We’re overwhelmed,” Doug said. “Thrilled, but completely overwhelmed. I just found out I’m being laid off, and Caroline’s Etsy store doesn’t bring in a lot of money. Plus, she was on bed rest with the twins, and we worry about that happening with this pregnancy.”
“We want the girls,” Caroline said, blinking. “We’ll make room for them, love them, and raise them as our own, but perhaps another family—”
“I understand,” I said. Gabby grew fussy in my arms, and I found her beloved binky, making her happy for a brief moment. But then she arched her back, let out a wail, and spat the pacifier out of her mouth. It flew across the table and landed in Doug’s coffee cup, causing coffee to splash onto his shirt.
“It’s fine,” Doug said, laughing as he attempted to clean up the mess with a syrupy napkin.
I apologized, but Caroline waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry about it, Nick. We’re used to it. It’s part of being a parent.”
As if to prove her point, there was a sudden bloodcurdling scream from the other booth. The youngest of the three older boys turned to reveal blood gushing from his nose. “He hit me!” he shouted, pointing at his brother.
The middle boy, looking extremely guilty, said, “No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did,” the oldest one said.
“But I didn’t mean to. My hand just slipped.”
Chaos ensued, and Gabby emitted another high-pitched shriek as though traumatized by the sight of blood.
“I’m so sorry,” Caroline told Anna and me as she held a napkin to her son’s nose and escorted him to the bathroom.
The waitress brought the check, and Doug reached for his wallet, but I handed over enough cash to cover the entire bill plus a generous tip. When Doug protested, I shook my head. “You can get it next time.”
Standing, I flung the diaper bag over my shoulder, a gesture that ironically reminded me of grabbing my rifle before heading out on maneuvers. Gabby’s cries grew louder, so I tried placating her by bouncing her up and down, but that only seemed to fuel her temper.
“It was an accident, Dad,” the middle kid insisted.
Doug grabbed his wife’s purse and hoisted the twins into his arms. “We’ll talk about this in the car, son. Let’s go.”
As we headed out to the parking lot, I could feel the disapproving glances from the other customers. Outside, Anna gave me a bemused smile and held out her hands for Gabby. “Can I try?”
Willingly, I handed over the baby, relieved to have her in the arms of an expert instead of my inept ones. Doug corralled his children into the minivan, and shortly after, Caroline and the bleeder exited the restaurant.
“I’m so sorry,” Caroline said, placing a hand on my arm. “I want you to know things aren’t always this crazy. Well, maybe they are. But we’d love to have the girls, and we can make room for them. Plus, I have faith that Doug will find another job.”
“I’m sure he will.” I glanced at the minivan where one of the twins was digging through Caroline’s purse, examining each item with fascination before tossing it into the front seat.
“Your girlfriend seems really sweet,” Caroline said, either not noticing what was going on with her purse, or not caring.
I turned my attention to Anna who’d successfully managed to calm Gabby. “She’s sweet, but she’s not my girlfriend.”
“No? Well, she’s wonderful.”
I nodded as Gabby laid her head on Anna’s shoulder and closed her eyes.
Caroline gave me a hug good-bye before joining her family. The toddler handed his mother the empty purse, and Caroline scooped up all the items as if not the least bit annoyed. Doug started the engine, and everyone waved and hollered good-bye as they drove out of the parking lot.
Anna walked over to me and spoke in a hushed whisper so as not to wake the baby. “I think I’d have a nervous breakdown if I was pregnant with triplets and had five other boys.”
I smiled. “No kidding. Never again will I complain about Gabby’s crying or Hailey’s insistence that I cut her sandwich in triangles instead of squares.”
“You cut her sandwich in squares?” Anna asked, pretending to be outraged. “What were you thinking?”
“I have no idea.” Anna and I grinned at each other, then I said, “I know you need to get to work, but thanks for coming with me this morning. I hope you weren’t too bored.”
She laughed at my joke, and Gabby jerked but didn’t wake. “Do you want me to put her in the car seat for you?” she asked, rubbing the baby’s back.
I nodded and opened the back door. Anna expertly buckled up Gabby before placing a blanket over her legs.
“Can I give you a ride to work?” I asked, wanting to spend more time with her.
She motioned toward her bike, leaning against the restaurant. “Thanks but I have my own transportation.”
I shoved a hand through my hair. “Maybe you could show me how to use the baby carrier on Ethan’s bike. I think Gabby might enjoy that, and I’d be able to help take the kids to school.”
A strange expression crossed her face. “Sure, anytime.”
Anna
As I rode
away from Nick, I tried not to picture him strolling around the island on a bicycle with the adorable Gabby waving from the bike seat behind him. Could anything tug at my heartstrings more than this strong man and precious baby?
Chastising myself for being weak and so easily lured by romantic notions, I cycled up to Main Street. The heavenly scent of freshly baked bread from Vicki’s Bakery greeted me, and colorful pansies spilled over terracotta planters in front of every shop. Bianca had been responsible for the flower initiative, and this year, the winter flowers were spectacular.
I passed the bakery and continued next door to The Last Tangle where I found my sister-in-law checking the large appointment book that sat on the front counter separating the waiting room from the hairstylists.
Bianca, dressed in an expensive silk blouse and a Hermes scarf, greeted me with a smile. Although she was talented enough to make more money working in an upscale salon in Houston or on a movie set, Bianca loved living on the island and owning her own business. The salon had room for two more stylists, but currently, we were the only two who worked there.
“How’d the meeting go?” she asked, brushing back a strand of auburn hair. At thirty-six, she was a stunning, full-figured woman. She’d never been married but had been briefly engaged to her college sweetheart who’d broken her heart when he chose to marry someone else.
I hung my bag on the hook next to my station. “The Kempners are pregnant with triplets.”
Bianca’s eyes bulged. “Wow.”
“That’s what I said.”
“Their little boys are so cute,” Bianca said. “But triplets! They’ll have eight boys under the age of nine.”
I nodded. “Hailey would probably be a real blessing to Caroline.”
“More like cheap labor,” Bianca said sarcastically. “So, what’s Nick going to do? Did you ask him about keeping the girls himself?”
I sighed. “He says he can’t because of his job, but he’s so good with them. Patient, kind, loving. Plus, Ethan and Ivana must’ve had some confidence in him to name him as the girls’ legal guardian.”
Bianca narrowed her eyes and studied me carefully. “Oh, wow.”
“What?” I looked down, thinking I must have coffee or something on my shirt. “I don’t see anything.”
“You like him,” she stated.
A warm tingly feeling danced through my body. “Who? Nick? No, I don’t.” Grinning, I walked to the front of the salon and opened the blinds. I flipped over the “We’re Open” sign and waited for my racing pulse to slow.