FATHER IN TRAINING (10 page)

"Ms. Walker," the older man said, "we finally got here. Sorry about the delay."

Nichole rushed to the edge of the stairs. "Can we do my room first?"

Al grinned. "We sure can try, little lady. Come on, boys, let's get this stuff unloaded."

The back doors of the truck came off completely. The men stretched them across to the porch, eliminating the need to go up and down the stairs with the furniture. Al opened a side door to the truck. While his men were unstrapping the furniture, he walked toward her.

"If you could show me the layout of the house, we'll put everything where it's supposed to go. I didn't see any writing on your boxes. How are you going to know where they're going?"

Lindsay rolled her eyes. "Don't even ask. Mom has a system for everything. Wait until you see it."

"My room's pink," Nichole said.

"Pink?" Al asked.

"There are colored dots on all the boxes,"
Sandy
said. "Come with me and I'll show you."

She'd tacked a big poster up in the foyer. Different colored dots lined the left side of the white cardboard. Next to each dot was the place those boxes went. "Red dots go in the kitchen, pink is for Nichole, dark blue for Blake and so on."

Al removed his Dodgers' baseball cap and grinned. "Well, I'll be."

"There's more," Nichole said. She pointed. "Look there."

Everyone looked up. A colored balloon floated from the doorway of each of the rooms. The color matched the dots on the chart.

"We should be able to unload your furniture in less than two hours," Al said.

"Great."
Sandy
was pleased. It had taken all day to load it. "Kids, you stay out of the men's way. I don't want you getting hurt. As soon as there are some boxes in your room, you can start unpacking."

"Swell," Lindsay grumbled.

"I'm here to help," Kyle said, falling into step with Al as the older man returned to the van. He paused by the door and turned back toward her. "I like the dots. I always said, given the chance, you could organize the world."

Sandy
grinned. "I know I could!"

Two hours later, the van was gone, the furniture was in place and there were three hundred boxes to be unpacked.
Sandy
stood in the center of the foyer and wondered where on earth she was going to begin. She could hear the children in their rooms. Lindsay would get her things unpacked just fine, but Nichole and Blake would probably create bigger messes than they would fix. At least they were busy and not underfoot.

Her personal stuff could wait. She'd marked a couple of boxes with linens for the family, so those could be opened immediately. Next, she would start on the kitchen things.

Kyle came in the front door and walked over to stand in front of her. He had a couple of screwdrivers and a pair of pliers in his left hand. His white T-shirt advertised a local ice-cream store, his black shorts left far too much of his tanned legs bare to view. Telling herself he wasn't really
that
good-looking did nothing to calm her nerves. Usually, she could talk herself out of or into just about anything. It was how she'd stayed sane while Thomas was alive and acting like a child. She'd convinced herself that one day he would grow up. With the perfect vision of hindsight, she knew now that probably wouldn't have happened. But no matter how she tried, she couldn't seem to convince her hormones that Kyle wasn't worth getting excited about.

"I thought I'd hook up the cable," he said, pointing toward the family room.

"I appreciate the help, but I don't want you to think you have to be here. If it's your day off, you should be doing something you want to do."

He held her gaze for a long time. Part of the reason she wanted him gone was that she felt a little guilty for throwing him out the last time he'd been here. She could have been a little nicer about the whole thing. He'd been wonderful to her and her kids. But she couldn't risk getting involved. Even a one-sided crush, much like Lindsay's, would upset things too much.

He smiled slowly, exposing white teeth and making the skin by the outside corners of his eyes crinkle. Her heart fluttered foolishly. "I'm here because I want to be," he said. "Haven't you figured that out yet?"

"Oh."

Oh? Was that the best she could come up with?
she
asked herself. Why did he want to be here? Was he toying with her, lulling her into thinking he might, well, sort of find her slightly attractive, only to dump her at the first opportunity?

She almost asked the question,
then
realized that perhaps she needed to work on her self-esteem first. Kyle had been nothing but sweet and friendly since they'd arrived. She was the one acting skittish. But why wouldn't she? She was a single mom with three kids. She had a tendency to be bossy and mouthy. She was working on her flaws but she was still far from being perfect. Or glamorous. So why was he being so nice to her?

"Thanks," she said at last, then brushed her suddenly damp palms against her shorts. "The TV goes in the entertainment center. The VCR sits on the shelf above that."

His smile widened to a grin. "I think I can figure it out."

"Great."

But he didn't move. Instead, he stood there, looking sinfully handsome, staring at her. Self-consciously, she reached up and fingered her hair. It was loose this morning, held off her face by a headband. She wasn't wearing any makeup. She probably looked old and messy. Nothing that a man like him would—

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. She frowned. "I'm not expecting anyone," she said as she crossed the floor to the front door.

A pretty, dark-haired woman holding a sleeping toddler in one arm and a diaper bag in the other smiled. "Hi, I'm
Elizabeth
. This is my daughter Jessica, and Mandy is around here, somewhere. Honey, where are you?"

"We're coming, Mommy."

Sandy
stared past the woman and saw a young girl racing up the porch stairs. She was holding a casserole dish in her hands. "We brung food," she said,
then
stopped slightly behind her mother, as if suddenly shy.

"Brought,"
Elizabeth
said. "I swear
,
hanging out with your father's relatives is doing nothing for your education." She smiled fondly at her daughter,
then
glanced back at
Sandy
. "She knows more about the
Forty-niners
' starting lineup than she does about any of her subjects at school. Oh, you still look confused. I'm sorry. I'm Travis's wife. We've come to help you unpack."

"
Elizabeth
, come on in," Kyle said, coming to the door. "Mandy, how's my favorite munchkin?"

The little blond girl giggled. "I'm not a munchkin, Uncle Kyle."

"I keep forgetting. Maybe it's because all munchkins have blond hair just like you." He bent down and touched the two braids brushing against her shoulders.

"Do they?" she asked, her blue eyes wide and questioning.

"Kyle,"
Elizabeth
said, the tone in her voice warning him to tread carefully. "Stop torturing my daughter."

Kyle chuckled,
then
took the casserole dish from Mandy. "No, honey, they don't."

Travis strolled up the stairs. He placed his hand on his wife's waist and guided her into the house. "Sandy, this is my wife, Elizabeth, and my daughters Mandy and little Jessica." He glanced fondly at the sleeping toddler. "We're here to help you unpack. Where would you like us to start?"

Sandy
was speechless. She didn't know whether to be pleased or insulted. Kyle had arranged for people to help her without asking her first. She should hate that. Yet the gesture was so thoughtful. She liked Travis; there was every reason to believe she would like his wife, and she didn't have any friends in Glenwood yet.

Before she could think of what to say, Kyle took charge. He sent Mandy upstairs with instructions on how to find Nichole's room, thrust the casserole dish into
Sandy
's hands, then ushered Travis into the family room, where he promised they would take care of the "man" work.

Elizabeth
stared after them,
then
laughed. "I guess that leaves all the women's work for us." She shifted the toddler in her arms. "It's Jessica's nap time," she explained. "She had a busy morning playing in the backyard. And driving in the car always puts her to sleep."

"You can put her on my bed," she said. "It would only take a minute to get the sheets unpacked."

"No, that's too much like work and we're going to have enough of that already."
Elizabeth
glanced into the living room. The floral-print sofa facing the wide windows had fluffy pillows. "Would you mind if she slept there?" she asked, nodding in the direction of the sofa.

"Of course not."

In a couple of minutes, Jessica was curled on the couch with her favorite stuffed toy, a lion missing an ear and the end of its tail.
Elizabeth
pulled a light blanket over the sleeping child. "She's our miracle baby," she said, straightening and following
Sandy
into the kitchen.

"Did you have trouble getting pregnant?"

Elizabeth
laughed. "Not at all. But until Jessica, there hadn't been a girl born into the Haynes family in four generations."

Sandy
set the casserole on the counter. "I didn't know that."

"That's a chicken-broccoli thing,"
Elizabeth
said, motioning to the covered dish. "Just heat it in the oven at 350° for about a half hour and it will be fine."

"Thanks for bringing the food. I really appreciate your thoughtfulness. So will my kids when I'm too tired to cook. After a week of living in a motel, even they're getting tired of take-out for dinner every night."

Elizabeth
stared at the piles of boxes. They filled the large space, with several pushed up against the wall and a few on the kitchen table. "Where should I start?"

"You don't have to help."

"That's why we're here,
Sandy
. Kyle put the word out. He's been there for us, so we're happy to help one of his friends."

Elizabeth
didn't hesitate before saying the word
friend
but even so,
Sandy
wondered what Kyle had said about her. Or what he hadn't.

She looked at the boxes, then at the empty cupboards. How on earth was she going to get this house in some kind of order? "Feel free to open whatever box strikes your fancy," she said. "I've pretty much decided where everything should go."

"Sounds good to me."
Elizabeth
reached for the one closest to her and drew open the flaps. "Canned goods," she said, peering inside.

"The pantry cupboard is right there."
Sandy
pointed to the closed door on the other side of the double oven.

Elizabeth
carried the box over to the counter closest to the pantry and started unpacking. "Kyle said you just moved to town. What made you decide on Glenwood, if you don't mind my asking?"

"My husband died a couple of years ago. After everything settled down, I decided I didn't want to raise my kids in
Los Angeles
. I'd lived in Glenwood for a few years when I was a teenager, so when a job teaching at the junior college opened up, I moved us here." She wrinkled her nose. "So far, it's not a popular decision with the family."

Elizabeth
smiled. "It will get better. I moved here from
L.A.
, too, although I wasn't a widow. So your husband passed away two years ago?"