Indomitable Spirit (6 page)

He sat silent for a moment. The anger in his eyes had diffused.

“Listen, I don’t want to owe you anything. And them doing odd chores for you…”

“Those odd chores were our agreement.”

He nodded. “You’re sure about this? You’re not going to change your mind next week and tell me I owe you thousands of dollars are you?”

“I don’t do business like that, Mr. Larson.”

“John,” he said plainly.

“I enjoy your children. They are doing a wonderful job and I think Jacob needs this kind of structure.”

John only nodded and that pleased her. It could have been one of those comments that caused him to come unglued.

“How many days a week are we talking?”

Kym folded her hands in her lap. “This particular class is everyday at this time, except Wednesdays. They are welcome to attend all of them. I ask that they attend two.”

He nodded slowly as if he were thinking. “That would help my mother out if she only had the two in the afternoon until I got home.”

“The two what?” she asked.

John looked up at her. “The other two kids.”

Kym felt that same disappointment she had the first time when she found out John Larson had children. Now he had four. But then the thought humored her again. She didn’t even like the man, so to be disappointed that he was married with four children shouldn’t concern her.

She cleared her throat. “How old are your other two?”

“Four and two,” he said flatly as though it was an automatic response and he was still thinking. “I’m going to talk to the kids about your arrangement. Them doing some manual labor is good for them. They need to learn to work for what they want.”

“I agree.”

“But it isn’t enough. I noticed the front door doesn’t quite swing right. It could use an adjustment. And the parking lot is a mess. If you had it lined then Mrs. Cavanaugh wouldn’t take up half of it with that stupid Cadillac.”

She held in the laugh. She’d meant to talk to the woman about that.

“The panels in the ceiling need replaced and come spring you could use a coat of paint outside.”

Kym narrowed her gaze on John. “Are you trying to sell me items from the hardware store?”

His eyes changed now. He wasn’t thinking anymore. “No. I was thinking those are things I could do for you to help cover the expenses of my kids spending time here.”

She felt her mouth drop open and only an exasperated vowel sound emerged.

“Hey, unless them dumping your trash is enough.”

“Mr. Larson…” He shook his head. “John, that is very generous of you.”

“I didn’t give you enough credit. I see what this has done for Jacob in the last week. Something tells me you have a lot more you could teach him.”

“I’d like the chance to.”

“Then I’ll come by this week and fix your door.” He stood from his chair.

Kym followed and moved to the door. She reached out and touched his arm. “Thank you for trusting me with your children.”

John looked out the window over the floor where his children bowed to the instructor and class was then over. “They need to trust someone and you seem to fit that bill.” He looked down at her. “All I ask is you don’t disappoint them.”

He opened the office door and walked out among the other parents.

Kym stood back and let the disappointment wash over her. He didn’t trust her completely and that hurt her. She’d never do anything to upset a child—especially John’s children. Jacob, especially, had a gift.

This wasn’t something new. She’d had to prove herself to everyone her entire life. There would be a day John Larson understood her and when he did she’d be paid in full.

Chapter Six

It was well past seven when Kym’s last student left. She could smell her grandfather’s cooking and she knew she needed to get upstairs before something caught fire. He was still her job too.

“Ah, my Kym.” He smiled as she walked through the door. “Dinner is ready.”

“Grandfather, you should have let me…”

He held up a hand to stop her. He didn’t like when she fussed over him so she stopped.

Her grandfather motioned to the bowl on the table. Inside was kimchi and rice—his most favorite comfort food. Usually this meant he was missing home. Kym understood, though it wasn’t a place she missed—she missed her family.

The thought made her think about John Larson and his four children. It was probably dinner time for them too. Did his wife prepare him a grand meal every night? Did Jacob fuss over the tiniest thing? Did Abby eat peas? What were the other children’s names?

“You’re thinking too much. Eat,” her grandfather nodded to her bowl.

She picked up her chopsticks and took her first bite. No matter how old her grandfather was, he had a way with kimchi and rice.

John took the bowl out of the microwave and set it on the table. Mason leaned in over the table and crinkled up his nose.

“Peas? I don’t like peas.”

“You’re going to have six of them at least,” John told him.

“Uh-uh.” He sat back down and crossed his arms over his chest.

“No thank you taste or straight to bed.”

Mason puckered up his lips. “You can’t make me.”

“Mason,” Jacob said softly. “I’m going to eat my peas.”

John gave Jacob a glance.
Really?

“You don’t like peas either,” Mason quickly retorted.

“I’m going to try them again. I’ll take my taste at the same time if you want.”

John watched the exchange between his sons.

“O-kay,” Mason said slowly.

John spooned a few on each of their plates and watched as they both skillfully balanced two peas on their forks.

“Ready? One, two, three,” Jacob counted off and both boys ate a few peas.

John figured that was good enough for him. He wasn’t a huge fan of peas either, but he couldn’t waste the can. A moment later Abby ate a few peas and so did Cody—and no one was spitting them back up.

John realized they were all looking at him now.

“What?”

“Eat your peas, Daddy.” Mason insisted and Jacob lowered his head grinning.

John looked around at the three other three sets of eyes watching in anticipation. He took a fork full and put it into his mouth. The peas squished between his teeth and the residue of them stuck to his tongue. He swallowed quickly. He still didn’t like peas, but the three youngest kids at the table were cheering and they ate more.

Jacob looked up, still smiling, and began to eat his chicken.

When dinner was done John turned on the TV for the younger kids, as was routine, so that he could clean up without any interruption.

When he returned to the kitchen Jacob had already cleared the table and had the water running in the sink to fill it.

“What did you do with my son?” John laughed as he watched Jacob open the door to the refrigerator and put away the butter and the milk.

“I’m just helping out, Dad. Don’t freak out.”

“It’s just that I’ve never seen you in here doing this before without making loud stomping noises with your feet and grunting every time you picked something up.”

Jacob returned to the table and began to scrape the plates onto one plate and then stack the empties.

“Dad, why don’t you go watch TV with them tonight. You should have a night off too. Most men aren’t in their kitchens cleaning dishes before they give their kids baths.”

John watched him. Eight. This kid was eight. What were eight-year-olds supposed to do? Help with the dishes. Takeover—not so much.

But Jacob seemed happy doing what he was doing and he wasn’t complaining.

“So you really like doing karate?”

That made Jacob stop as he walked across the kitchen with his hands full of dishes.

“Yes, sir.”

John should have expected the proper answer, but there was still some getting used to it.

“Ms. O’Bryne agreed to let you guys continue to help around the school.”

Jacob set the dishes in the sink and turned off the water, but he didn’t turn around.

“Dad, I’m sorry I lied to you about going to the school. I know we can’t afford for us to do sports and clubs. But I really enjoy this. So whatever I have to do…”

John walked up behind his son and placed his hand on his shoulder. “It’s not always going to be this hard, kiddo.”

Jacob nodded, but John knew he was battling the tears, he too was fighting off.

“I miss Mom. But when I’m at the karate school I can make that all go away because I feel strong there.”

“You look strong too.”

Jacob turned his head and looked up at John. His eyes shimmered with the tears that didn’t fall.

“I did?”

“You did.” He smiled thinking about how proud Kym was of him too. It had shown in her eyes—those green, piercing eyes.

John kissed the top of his head and gave him a pat on the back. “I’ll let you finish this and I’ll go get their bath ready. Maybe we can all make it to bed before ten tonight.”

He turned to leave the kitchen, but turned around to watch his son.

John had worried that losing his mother at six was going to ruin Jacob. A single man with four little kids—he was bound to ruin one of them. But even at eight, Jacob seemed to have found his path, at least for now. John would help keep him training if it was what Jacob wanted. And he couldn’t deny having a little help around the house wasn’t so horrible.

With Jacob’s help, they were all in bed by nine—including John. He almost couldn’t believe he was lying in his bed—the house silent—and he was alone in his room.

Jacob had read Cody a book while John finished giving Mason a bath. By the time John went back to put Cody to bed, he’d been tucked in tight and was already asleep.

Mason had been playing quietly with his Batman figure when John turned off his light and Abby had given him the biggest hug before she snuggled in for the night with her aunt’s old American Girl doll.

Jacob took a few minutes to look over his homework before he hugged and kissed his father goodnight—which he’d stopped doing some time ago.

And now John lay in bed enveloped by dark and silence. The perfect opportunity for his mind to wander—and it wandered right to Kym.

That school didn’t have a lot of students, but she was willing to train his kids for free. Why? He’d never been nice to her—or anyone. That’s why it was so surprising that she’d take that on. After all, they had to have told her he was their father; she hadn’t been surprised when he’d walked in.

Then again, maybe it was because he was their father that she wanted to do this for them. Maybe she thought she could change the next generation of Larsons since he was so socially inept.

But that would mean Kym O’Bryne had ulterior motives and John didn’t think she had it in her. She was just a good-hearted woman—even he could see that.

John tossed and turned until he found a comfortable position in the old mattress and then he pounded his pillow into the right shape.

Since Abigail had died, John had never thought of another woman. He hadn’t gone out on a date. He hadn’t spent more than an hour with anyone but his mother, sister, and Wil. But now there was Kym and something about her had him thinking about her too often.

She was small—oh so small, but there was a strength that resonated from her. The posture in which she carried herself would make any six-foot man take a step back.

The way she looked at him with his wrench in her hand as he slid down the ladder the other day still burned in him. He could have killed her—or given her a huge bump on the head. But she was quick, prepared, and humored by his clumsiness.

He rolled over onto his side and punched his pillow again. He didn’t want to think about Kym O’Bryne. She had to be years younger than him and he came with too much baggage. No one in their right mind wanted a grumpy old man, who was only in his mid-thirties, with four kids. By the time Cody was old enough to move out John would be able to find a date on the old man’s dating website.

The thought made him chuckle, but then he flipped onto his back and laced his hands under his head.

There was something different about Kym O’Bryne.

He untucked one hand from under his head and ran it over his face. Tomorrow he would finish up the work at Wil’s bakery. Maybe, just maybe, Wil would have a pearl of wisdom for her old friend. She’d tell it to him straight. He knew that when Wil was done with him he’d never think about Kym O’Bryne again. But as he closed his eyes and tried to sleep she was all he could think about.

Chapter Seven

Kym waited in line at Malory’s bakery. She watched as the woman served up doughnuts and coffee with a smile all the while looking horribly miserable.

“Good morning, Kym.”

“Good morning, Malory. How do you do this every day? You look uncomfortable.”

Malory laughed as she rested her hands on the counter. “It’s becoming a challenge, but I’ll make it. At least the morning sickness went away months ago. Christopher had to help me back then. I couldn’t stand the smell of anything baking.”

Kym laughed. “If ever I can be of help in the mornings just ask.”

“Be careful what you say. You never know when I just might need you.”

Kym watched as she placed the muffins she’d ordered in a bag and poured her a cup of cinnamon coffee.

“This’ll keep you warm,” she said as she handed Kym her order. “I hear we’re due to get some snow.”

“I guess I’d better get prepared for that. Snow means a messy school.”

She gave Malory a smile and turned to leave just as the door opened.

Kym knew it was John before she even saw him. It was early so his cologne was fresh and crisp. And again it was early enough that the scowl on his face was fresh too.

He held the door open for her and she ignored her rapidly beating heart and forced a smile and the married man with four children who frowned. “Good morning, John.”

“Mornin’,” he bit back as she passed by.

“The bakery looks nice. You’ve done a good job.”