Paul was as concerned about the situation as Leah was. Even more so. But she didn’t know what he intended to do. The problem was, he probably didn’t, either.
What could he do?
“Mommy!” Four-year-old Ryan, the older—by ten minutes—of the identical twins, came out from their bedroom, sleepily rubbing his eyes. He dragged his security blanket on the carpet behind him.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” Leah said, lifting his warm little body into her arms.
“I want my mommy.” Ryan’s arms clasped her neck tightly.
“I know.” Her voice caught as she spoke.
“When’s she coming home?”
“Your mommy’s in heaven now, remember?”
“But when will she come back?”
Unexpected tears filled Leah’s eyes. “She won’t.… Don’t you remember what your daddy said?”
“But I want her to.”
“I do, too.” It was difficult to make Ryan and Ronnie understand, difficult to understand herself. And it didn’t seem to be getting any easier.
Diane had had a husband, children, responsibilities. Her sister had been full of life and laughter. Her death made no sense to Leah. None.
Diane was blond, pretty, animated, energetic. Leah was tall and ungainly, and she lacked Diane’s confidence and vivacity. At five-eight she was a full five inches taller than her younger sister had been. Her hair was a pale brown, and unlike Diane’s beautiful blue eyes, hers were an indeterminate color, somewhere between green and brown depending on what she wore. Diane had been the striking one in the family.
Diane had also been the only family Leah had. Their parents had divorced when they were young, and their mother had died several years ago. They’d lost contact with their father in their teens. Any aunts, uncles, cousins, had long since faded from view.
“Are you hungry?” Leah asked Ryan, turning the conversation away from the painful subject of Diane.
Ryan’s head was buried in her shoulder. He sniffled and nodded. “Can you make Egg McManning the way Mommy did?”
“Ah…” Leah hesitated. She had no idea what Egg McManning was. “Sure, but you’ll have to show me how.”
“Okay.” Ryan brightened a little. “First you cook eggs and cheese and muffins, then you put everything together and eat it.”
“Oh…” Leah was going to need a few more instructions than that. Diane had had an active imagination. She could make the most mundane chores fun and the simplest meal a feast.
“I’m hungry.” Ronnie wandered out of his bedroom and into the kitchen. With both hands, he pulled out the kitchen chair, then climbed up onto the seat. He stuck his thumb in his mouth.
“Aunt Leah’s making Egg McManning,” Ryan told him.
“Good.” The thumb left his mouth long enough to say that one word.
Until Diane’s death Ronnie had given up sucking his thumb, but he’d started again. Leah hadn’t suggested he stop and wouldn’t for a while. Life had already landed him a harsh blow; she wasn’t about to chastise him because he needed a little extra comfort.
“Did I hear someone mention Egg McManning for breakfast?” Paul stood in the kitchen doorway, Kelsey on his shoulder, sleeping soundly.
“Aunt Leah’s making them for us,” Ryan explained solemnly.
“I hope you’ll share the recipe with me,” she muttered under her breath.
“Toast English muffins,” Paul said between yawns, “add some scrambled egg, a slice of cheese and voilà.” He pressed his free hand to his mouth, stifling another yawn. “How long have you been here?”
“Only a few minutes.” Leah had her back to him, searching the contents of the refrigerator for a carton of eggs.
“I thought you couldn’t come until noon today.”
“I lied,” she said over her shoulder, giving him a quick grin. “I cleaned up my place last night and figured I’d get a head start with the kids this morning.” She set the eggs, muffins and cheese on the counter. “I thought Ryan and Ronnie might enjoy a trip to the zoo.” Out of the corner of her eye she watched for the twins’ reaction.
“The zoo?” Ronnie asked excitedly. “With lions and tigers and bears?”
“Didn’t you have a date last night?” Paul asked, frowning.
“I was too tired to go out.” She grabbed a skillet that had been left to dry in the rack next to the sink and set it on the stove.
“If you were so tired, where’d you find the energy to clean house?”
Paul was like that sometimes. Leah guessed it was the reporter in him. He’d prod until he got the answer he already knew to be the truth.
“If I were you,” she said, waving a spatula at him, “I wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”
“I know what you’re doing.” Fierce pride brightened his blue eyes.
“So do I,” she countered smoothly. “I’m cooking breakfast for two hungry little boys.”
Kelsey woke and started whimpering. Leah got the impression that Paul would’ve preferred to continue their conversation, but didn’t know which to do first, deal with his daughter or talk to Leah. “But—”
“I’ll heat her bottle for you,” she offered, cutting off his reply.
Paul looked haggard. She’d purposely come to the house early so he could have part of the day to himself. The guy was exhausted. They all were. But for Leah there was an escape. At the end of the day she went home to her apartment, free from the demands of three small, needy children. A place of her own where she could find peace and privacy. Paul had no such deliverance.
Breakfast was ready when he returned with a freshly diapered Kelsey. He’d taken the time to dress in jeans and a sweatshirt, Leah saw, glancing in his direction.
She set three plates on the table and reached for Kelsey, tucking the baby in her arms and smiling as she eagerly began to gulp down her formula.
“You’re ruining your social life,” Paul said, biting into the muffin as though it had been days since his last meal.
“No, I’m not.” There wasn’t any social life to ruin, Leah thought. She only dated occasionally. Rob was a friend and would never be anything more. They had a good time together, but canceling an evening with him wasn’t a big deal.
“You should’ve gone out last night,” Paul said stubbornly.
“I wasn’t in the mood.” She stroked the side of Kelsey’s face, her heart constricting as she noticed her resemblance to Diane. The little chin, the shape of her ears…
“Leah, please don’t.”
The earnestness in Paul’s voice caught her attention. Slowly she lifted her eyes to his.
“I feel guilty enough knowing what this is doing to my parents,” he said. “Please, don’t you sacrifice yourself for me, too.”
“It’s not for you,” she told him. “It’s for Ryan, Ronnie and Kelsey. And it isn’t a sacrifice. If the situation were reversed, Diane wouldn’t think twice about doing the same for me. She’d expect me to help.”
Paul closed his eyes and nodded, his face grim. “I still don’t feel good about it.”
“I know.” Leah did; she knew it went against Paul’s pride to rely on his family so much. He didn’t have any choice, but he didn’t like it.
Not one bit.
* * *
Paul was in an angry, unreasonable mood. If there was anything to be grateful for, it was that Leah had taken the boys to the zoo and Kelsey was napping.
He would’ve liked nothing better than to sit down at his computer. He was five chapters into a book, but he hadn’t written a word since Diane’s death. How could he? There hadn’t been a moment he could call his own. Not that he’d been in the state of mind that would allow him to get absorbed in his novel anyway. But he wanted to try, as much for Diane, who’d loved this story, as himself.
His two younger brothers had asked him to join their softball team. He felt a bit guilty for spurning Jason and Rich’s efforts to divert him, but feeling like a charity case was worse.
&
nbsp; In any event, there wouldn’t have been time for softball this Saturday, since a dozen chores around the house needed to be done.
One of the twins had pulled the towel rack off the bathroom wall. When he’d asked who was responsible, both Ryan and Ronnie had claimed, “not me.” Not me seemed to have a lot to answer for lately.
Once he’d finished the bathroom repair, Paul moved into the twins’ bedroom, where the closet door was off the track. Setting it back in place wasn’t a simple task. Again and again he struggled to fit it onto the narrow groove until it was all he could do not to rip the door out in his frustration.
“You’re losing it, old boy,” he said, forcing himself to step back and take several deep breaths. Calmer now, he finally succeeded in fixing it.
From there, Paul moved to the garage. His car needed an oil change, and although he’d gotten in the habit of going to a twenty-minute lube place, this time he decided to do it himself, hoping to save a few dollars.
Tinkering in the garage, he realized he needed a few things from the hardware store. No big deal. He’d be back in fifteen, twenty minutes tops. It wasn’t until he’d gone a block down the road that he remembered Kelsey.
He tore back to the house like a madman and raced inside the front door, his heart pounding so hard it sounded like thunder in his ear.
Kelsey was sleeping soundly, completely unaware that her own father had actually forgotten her.
Slumping into the rocking chair, Paul clenched his fists, resisting the urge to plow one through the wall. Paul had never been a violent man, and he was horrified by the rage that surged through him.
Leah’s timing couldn’t have been worse. The boys exploded through the front door, happy and excited. Ryan and Ronnie were each clutching a bright red balloon in one hand and an ice-cream cone in the other.
“Daddy! Daddy, guess what we saw?”
Paul didn’t answer, but that didn’t seem to dampen Ryan’s enthusiasm.
“There was an eagle, a great big one with wings as long as…as an airplane and claws like this.” He formed his small hand into the shape. “Bigger even.”
“Paul, what’s wrong?” Leah’s soft voice came to him. If he closed his eyes, he could almost believe it was Diane speaking to him—only it wasn’t.
“I left the house to do one small errand,” he said in a low voice.
“Yes?”
“I went without Kelsey. I left her in the house alone,” he said. “Anything could’ve happened, don’t you understand? I left my own daughter behind… I completely forgot about her.”
“Nothing happened. It’s not the end of the world.”
“Isn’t it?” he shouted.
Leah steered the boys toward the kitchen. “Finish your ice cream at the table, then wash your hands,” she told them calmly. “After that, it’s time for your nap.”
“Ronnie, get your thumb out of your mouth,” Paul yelled. “You’re too old to be sucking your thumb.”
The boy raised stricken eyes to his father and rushed into the other room.
“Take a few minutes to relax,” Leah told Paul, “and I’ll bring you a cup of tea.”
“I don’t want any tea.”
“I know,” she said. “You want Diane back. We all do.”
“A cup of tea isn’t going to help.”
“Perhaps not, but we need to talk, and anytime Diane had something important she wanted to discuss, she did it over a cup of tea.”
Paul didn’t need his sister-in-law to tell him about his dead wife’s habits. For an instant he wanted to lash out at her, the same way he had at Ronnie. But the guilt he felt at his irrational anger compounded as he followed Leah into the kitchen. Ryan and Ronnie were sitting at the table. Their excitement was gone, their shoulders hunched forward. Paul leaned over and kissed Ronnie’s cheek. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”
“I won’t suck my thumb anymore,” the four-year-old promised tearfully.
Ryan scooted off the chair and raced to their bedroom, returning with his yellow blanket, which he indignantly handed Paul. “If Ronnie can’t have his thumb, then I don’t want my blankie.”
“You’re sure?” Paul asked. Ryan hadn’t slept without his blanket since Diane’s death.
“Yes.”
“If you’re finished, go wash your hands,” Leah told the boys. “Naptime.”
Paul expected an argument. The boys rarely went to sleep without a fuss these days. They seemed to feel that if they were old enough for kindergarten in September, they were old enough to forgo afternoon naps. To his surprise neither one voiced a protest.
He was left alone in the kitchen as Leah walked the boys down the hallway. She returned a couple of minutes later and poured them each a cup of hot tea.
She was about to sit down when Ryan stalked back into the kitchen, glaring at his father. Here it comes, Paul thought. The argument about naptime.
“What is it?” Paul demanded impatiently.
Ryan blinked, pointing at the blanket on the chair next to Paul. “Ronnie’s got his thumb in his mouth so I want my blankie back.” He grabbed the tattered yellow blanket and raced to his bedroom again.
Leah was smiling, and if he’d been in a better mood, Paul would’ve found humor in it, too.
“So you had a good time at the zoo?” he managed to ask politely.
“Yes. The boys were great.” She stared down at the delicate teacup in her hands. “Listen, Paul, I’ve been doing some thinking about the situation here, with you and the kids, and it seems to me we need to come up with some solutions.”
“We? This isn’t your problem.”
“Yes, it is, although I hesitate to call it a problem.”
“Then what would you call it?”
“An opportunity.”
“An opportunity for what?” he asked, hating the way he’d raised his voice. The anger he felt simmered just below the surface, and seemed ready to burst forth at the slightest provocation.
“I’ve given a lot of thought to what I’m about to propose.”
“Leah, listen, forgive me, I’m in a foul mood. Not good company. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but—”
“I know what’s wrong. What’s wrong with all of us. Why Ronnie’s started sucking his thumb again and why Ryan can’t get to sleep unless he’s got his blankie.”
“It’s Diane….”
She nodded. “We all miss her, we all need her, but she isn’t here and we have to adjust. It’s going to take time and patience.”
“I’ve run out of both,” Paul admitted wryly.
“So have I,” she acknowledged, surprising him. “That’s why I want to give my notice at the college and move in with you and the kids.”
Two
“I won’t hear of it,” Paul said bluntly, emphatically.
Leah had expected an argument. Paul was proud. Being forced to accept her help, or anyone’s for that matter, conflicted with his independent nature. He’d been forced to rely on her and his parents for the past six months, which was difficult enough.
“I’ve considered this very seriously,” Leah said.
“I appreciate the offer, but I can’t allow you to do it.” Paul shook his head. Others might have buckled under at the obstinate look in his deep blue eyes, but Leah had come to know her brother-in-law too well to surrender that easily.
“The boys aren’t adjusting.”
“Leah, I said no,” he returned firmly.
“Ryan can barely leave the house without his blanket. We both know he has trouble going to sleep without it.”
“In time he’ll give it up.”
“And Ronnie’s taken to sucking his thumb again,” she continued undaunted. “In case you haven’t noticed, he’s become ambidextrous, although he continues to favor his right hand.”
“Both thumbs?” Paul didn’t bother to disguise his shock. His eyes hardened as he said, “In time the boys will learn to adjust.”
“They need stability and security.”
“I’m trying,” Paul said, inhaling sharply. “I’m doing everything I can.”
“No one’s blaming you.”
“I can’t do everything.”
“And that’s my point,” Leah told him quietly. “No one expects you to. My moving in will only be temporary. It’ll give the boys a chance to adjust to Diane’s loss without all the upheaval they’re going through now. It’ll help regulate Kelsey’s schedule, too.”
“What’s wrong with her schedule?” Paul demanded.
Leah didn’t want to sound critical of his efforts, but, in fact, Kelsey didn’t have much of a schedule.
“It’s…erratic. Especially at night.”
“But she wakes up and—”
“You expect her to wake up and you’re so attuned to the slightest noise that when she does, you spring out of bed instantly.”
“I had to put her crib in my room,” he said, “otherwise I didn’t hear her.”
“I’m just explaining that you need to move her into her own room and start regulating her eating schedule a little more.” She paused. “I can help you do that.”
He sighed wearily but didn’t respond.
“It’d only be for a few years,” Leah murmured.
“You don’t really think I’m going to agree to this, do you?”
“Just until the boys are in school full-time and Kelsey’s in preschool. By then the kids won’t need me as much and I’ll be able to resume my teaching career.”
Paul didn’t say anything for several minutes, weighing her words. “No,” he finally said. “I appreciate this more than you’ll ever realize, but I can’t let you do it. It’s too much of a sacrifice.”
“Diane was my sister,” Leah said softly, hoping to hide the pain that surfaced whenever she mentioned her sister’s name. “Her children are the only family I have left. It wouldn’t be a sacrifice—it would be something done willingly and out of love. The twins need me and so does Kelsey.”
“But it’s not fair for you to give up your life.”
“Give it up?” she repeated with a short laugh. “You make it sound like I’m offering to leap into a volcano to appease some ancient god. I’m going to take a leave of absence from teaching. That’s all.”