Yesterday's Embers (Clayburn Novels Book 3) Page 4

  His expression was dull. “You mean other than the obvious?”

  His caustic tone sent her reeling and she looked away. This was a side of the man she’d never seen in the five years she’d had his kids in daycare. Tears pressed at her eyelids, but she blinked them back. The last thing he needed was to feel guilty about hurting her feelings.

  But he didn’t seem to notice. “I’ve got to get going.” He pushed the door open.

  She nodded and started back to the reading corner with Harley. She worked to keep her voice from trembling. “Let’s go see what your sisters are doing, okay?”

  Harley pointed toward the dayroom and gave a shy smile. Mickey sighed. She should simply have dealt with Harley the way she did with any child who didn’t want to be left. Still, this was different. Harley might not be old enough to understand the tragedy her family had experienced, but she’d been exposed to their grieving. That had to have an effect.

  Mickey left Harley ensconced between her sisters, sucking her thumb and looking at a picture book, but she fretted over the exchange with Doug. He was understandably not himself, but he could have been a little more helpful. Under the circumstances, she wouldn’t have been wrong to insist he stay until Harley calmed down a little.

  Turning to go back to her desk, she looked up to see Doug peering over the bookcase. She hurried to where he was.

  “I guess…she settled down okay?” Worry etched his forehead.

  She forced a smile and found that it diminished some of her ire. “She’s fine. I’m sorry I—”

  He held up a hand. “No. I’m the one who’s sorry. I—I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.” He dipped his head.

  “It’s okay. I understand. This has to be terribly hard…for all of you.”

  He nodded. “I think she’s a little afraid of being left. She doesn’t want anybody else to disappear out of her life.”

  “Of course.” She could have kicked herself. She was the one who was supposed to be the expert on childhood development. “Don’t worry. We’ll reassure her that you’ll be back soon.”

  “Thanks.” He glanced at his watch. “I need to go.”

  She lifted a hand. “Go. She’ll be fine. They all will.”

  Doug gave his girls one last longing glance before he turned and walked out the door.

  She’d been ready to punch the guy a minute ago. But now, the hunch of his shoulders made Mickey want to give him a hug. Poor guy.

  Chapter 6

  Mickey zipped up Timothy Plank’s coat and sent him out the door with his mother. That was everybody except the DeVore kids. She waved a hand toward Brenda Deaver. “You might as well go on home. I’ll wait with the kids.”

  The teacher rolled her eyes. “The kids have barely been back for three weeks, and he’s been late every single night, Mickey.”

  “Not that late. I feel for the guy.”

  “Are you going to talk to him?”

  “How can I, Brenda? He’s trying to be mom and dad both.” The puff of air Mickey blew out ruffled too-long bangs off her forehead. She’d missed a hair appointment Tuesday, thanks to Doug being late. “It’s not like he can help it.”

  Brenda propped her hands on her hips. “So you’re going to start keeping the center open till seven every night, then? Because if you are, you’d better think about hiring another worker.”

  “I know. I know. But what am I supposed to do?” Mickey threw up her hands. Brenda was her only full-time employee and as it was, Mickey struggled to pay her after-school help and the substitutes, and still pay herself and Brenda a salary with benefits.

  “I thought Kaye’s mom was staying with the kids.” Brenda glanced toward the playroom.

  The children’s laughter filtered through the wall of windows that separated the reception room from the rest of the center. Kayeleigh and Landon had come from school and managed to turn “I Spy With My Little Eye” into a rowdy game for their siblings. Mickey smiled. She might have tried to settle them down…before. But it was good to see them having fun. They’d been glum for too many days of this new year.

  She turned back to Brenda and lowered her voice. “Kayeleigh said Harriet went back to Florida for a few days to close up her condo. She’s apparently going to stay in Clayburn for the rest of the winter. I sort of got the impression she’s not a whole lot of help though.”

  Brenda nodded. “I could see that. She’s not exactly Mary Poppins. But at least there’ll be somebody to—”

  The phone on Mickey’s desk rang. She held up a hand. “Hang on… Clayburn Day Care, this is Mickey.”

  “Mickey, it’s Doug. I’m sorry, but I’m running late again. I had to deliver some printing to Ellsworth. Are the kids doing okay?”

  “They’re fine.” She waved Brenda out the door and took the phone to the entrance of the playroom. “You can probably hear them.”

  “I hear them.” There was a smile in his voice. Too rare these days for a man who used to always be laughing. “It’s probably going to be another twenty minutes. I just left town, but I’m in the van, so I’ll have to stop by the office and switch vehicles.”

  That meant a good twenty-five minutes. “Let me bring the kids home. I’ll meet you there. There’s no sense in you having to backtrack.”

  “You don’t need to do that.” But his voice sounded hopeful.

  “I don’t mind. I’m not doing anything else. I’ll meet you there.”

  “Can you fit everybody in your car?”

  “I can take the center’s van. Hang on. Let me make sure there’s a car seat here.”

  She carried the phone to the closet and found the car seat under a box of Christmas decorations she hadn’t gotten around to putting up on the shelf yet. “Okay,” she told Doug. “We’re good to go.”

  “Thanks, Mickey. I really appreciate it. I’ll add some gas money to your next check.”

  She went to help the kids into their coats. She truly didn’t mind. It wasn’t like the extra trip was keeping her from a hot date or anything.

  Twenty minutes later, she pulled the minivan up behind Doug’s Suburban in the DeVores’ driveway. She never would have found the place if Kayeleigh and Landon hadn’t told her where to turn. The two-story farmhouse stood in the center of the section facing east, but it was set back from the road about a thousand yards, hidden behind a thick shelterbelt of red cedars. An overgrown, tumbledown barn north of the house appeared faded and scoured by half a century of summers.

  Bicycles in an array of sizes littered the front yard, and three tiger-striped cats perched on the porch railing. The house looked as if it had been added on to numerous times over the years, but a fresh coat of white paint unified the patchwork of rooms tacked to the house.

  She unbuckled Harley from the car seat while the kids piled out of the car. With the toddler on her hip, she followed the older kids up the porch steps. They jostled to be first through the front door, but Mickey hung back. It felt awkward to just barge into the house. “Wait. Kayeleigh, is your dad home?”

  “His truck’s not here,” Landon said.

  Kayeleigh motioned her inside. “He’s probably parked in back. Come on in.”

  Mickey shook her head. “I need to get home. But I want to make sure your dad’s here before I leave.”

  Kayeleigh shrugged her narrow shoulders. “It’s okay. I can babysit until he comes in.”

  Mickey hesitated. “I’m sure you can, but I should wait and make sure…” She cleared her throat and started again. “I should stay until he gets home.”

  The living room was a pigsty. There was no polite way to put it. And the house smelled musty—like a basement that had been closed up for a long time. The coffee table was littered with dirty dishes and she had to pick her way around toys and stacks of newspapers and magazines, before she found a place to set Harley down. She helped the twins out of their coats and gloves while Kayeleigh did the same for the baby.

  With the matching coats draped over one arm, she turned to K
ayeleigh. “Where should I hang these?”

  Kayeleigh looked around the room as if she hadn’t lived here her whole life. “Um…you can just throw them on the couch.”

  The sofa was already piled high with a laundry basket and a load of white clothes in various stages of folding. She tucked the girls’ gloves into the pockets of their jackets, moved a stack of unopened mail off the arm of the sofa and placed the coats there.

  “Come see our room, Miss Mickey!” Sarah grabbed her hand and Sadie took the other and they started tugging her across the toy-littered living room.

  She wriggled out of their grasp. “Not tonight, girls. I’m sure your dad will be here any minute. It’s late and I need to get back.”

  “Hows come? Is your husband waitin’ for supper?”

  “Stop it, Sadie.” Kayeleigh looked embarrassed. “Miss Valdez isn’t married.”

  “Yeah, dummy,” Landon piped up. “Why do you think she’s called Miss Valdez?”

  Sadie gave an impish grin that said she did, indeed, know.

  Before she could think of a comeback, Mickey heard the front door close behind her. She turned, still with a twin attached to each arm, to see Doug duck through the doorway.

  Chapter 7

  Doug tossed a fat Dairy Barn sack on a cluttered table by the sofa, took off his ball cap, and dipped his head in Mickey’s general direction. “Hi there.”

  Feeling like an intruder, she took a step toward the door. She still had a twin attached to each hand, but at the sound of Doug’s voice, they let loose and made a beeline for the door. “Daddy!”

  Harley squealed and toddled toward him, too.

  Even Landon jumped off the sofa where he’d plopped in front of the TV with the remote. “Hey, Dad.”

  Doug squeezed his shoulder, patted the girls’ heads one by one, and scooped Harley into his arms. But he kept his eyes on Mickey. “Hope you haven’t been waiting long. It took me a little longer than I thought.”

  “No, we just got here. I hope you don’t mind that I…came on in. The kids sort of…” She shrugged.

  He shook his head. “Of course not. I appreciate you bringing them home. Sorry it worked out that way.”

  “It’s no problem.” Feeling awkward, she picked her way through kids and toys to the door. “I’d better get back…let you guys eat your dinner.” She looked pointedly at the Dairy Barn sack, which masked the mustiness with a fragrant burger-and-onions-and-fries aroma.

  Sarah grabbed her hand again. “You can have supper with us. Can’t she, Dad?” Like an eager puppy, she wagged her blond head, sending her curls bouncing.

  Mickey avoided Doug’s eyes. “That’s sweet, Sarah, but…I need to get going.” Reaching past him for the doorknob, she glanced up and thought she saw relief in his eyes.

  But he surprised her by picking up the Dairy Barn bag and giving it a little shake. “Sure. Stay. There’s plenty.” He tousled Landon’s hair. “That is, if this little wolfhound doesn’t get carried away.”

  “We’ll share. Won’t we guys?” That was Sadie, always the mediator.

  Mickey held up a hand and opened the door, shaking her head. “Thanks, but I couldn’t.”

  “Stay.” Doug beckoned her and carried the Dairy Barn bag to the adjoining dining room.

  She traipsed after him and stood by dumbly while he moved mounds of junk-mail catalogs and a stack of what looked like sympathy cards off of the tabletop.

  “This’ll be your reward for hauling the kids home. It’s the least I can do.”

  She felt trapped now that she’d followed him back here. It was awkward, being here with him and the kids. But the burgers smelled good, and it would be more awkward to bow out now. “You’re sure there’s enough?”

  “Oh, yeah. No problem.” He set Harley on the floor and clapped his hands. “Kayeleigh, you and Landon get the paper plates and napkins.” He turned to Mickey, looking sheepish. “We avoid dishwashing at all costs around here.”

  She laughed. “Hey, I hear you.” But looking through to the kitchen behind Doug, it was apparent he wasn’t kidding. The sink was piled high with dirty dishes, and the countertops were strewn with cereal boxes and empty juice bottles.

  Doug pulled out a chair. “Here. Sit.”

  She did as she was told while the twins vied for chairs on either side of her. Kayeleigh and Landon put slightly crumpled paper plates at each place. Doug got the toddler settled in the highchair with a handful of French fries. Stuffing her mouth full, Harley banged on the tray for more.

  Doug obliged, then disappeared into the kitchen. He came back with a half-empty bottle of ketchup, a two-liter bottle of store-brand pop, and a stack of plastic cups.

  Kayeleigh doled out burgers and fries, putting two on every plate except her own. “Tear some of yours off for Harley,” she told the twins.

  “Thanks, honey, but I can’t eat two. Here…” Mickey handed back one of her burgers.

  The twins looked relieved, but she felt bad that Kayeleigh had still ended up with only one hamburger.

  Without prelude, everyone bowed their heads around the table and recited a blessing Mickey had sometimes used at the daycare center.

  “Thank You for the world so sweet.

  Thank You for the food we eat.

  Thank You for the birds that sing.

  Thank You, God, for everything.”

  Doug’s “Amen” seemed to be the signal for everyone to snarf down the food in front of them. Kayeleigh unwrapped her burger, tore off a hunk for herself, and put the rest on Harley’s highchair tray. Trying to be discreet, Mickey winked at Kayeleigh and followed suit.

  They ate in silence for several minutes, everyone’s chewing noises magnified.

  Landon elbowed Sarah, eyeing her second burger. “You gonna eat that?”

  “Yes, she is.” Doug answered for her. “If you’re still hungry, there’re some apples in the fridge.”

  “No. They’re gross, Dad. They’re all squishy.”

  “Oh. Well, maybe Grandma can make a pie out of them.”

  Harley grunted for more to eat, and Kayeleigh put another handful of fries in front of her.

  Doug took a swig of pop and offered Mickey a crooked smile. “It’s kind of like watching a bunch of pigs at a trough, isn’t it?”

  “Actually, I feel right at home.” Mickey grinned. “This is pretty much what lunch at the daycare is like every day.”

  Laughing with him, she relaxed a little and listened to the kids’ banter, no longer feeling like she had to make conversation.

  When the last fry had been polished off, Doug rose and started collecting paper plates and cups, hoping Mickey would take the hint and go home. She got up to help, but he held out a hand. “Don’t bother. I’ll handle this.”

  She followed him into the kitchen, rolling up the sleeves of her shirt as she went. “Let me help with the dishes.”

  He decided to aim for levity and turned his back to the overflowing sink, stretching out his arms as if he could hide the pathetic mess. He made his voice deep. “Close your eyes and back away. There’s nothing to see here, folks.”

  “Too late,” she said, laughing. She had a nice laugh.

  “You don’t need to get involved.”

  “I don’t mind. I’m not easily intimidated.” Her expression turned serious. “Let me help. It’s always easier with two.” As soon as the words were out she cringed.

  He remembered the day at the daycare when he’d snapped at her. He felt bad now.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean—”

  He waved her words away. “Don’t worry about it. I—I’ve noticed everybody seems to think they’re putting their foot in their mouth around me these days.”

  She nodded.

  “It’s not you. Everything seems to have…double meaning, you know?”

  “Exactly.” Relief shone in her blue eyes. He’d never noticed before that she had such blue eyes. Liz Taylor eyes, violet almost. Striking with her olive Latino co
loring. He shook his head, trying to banish the thought. What was he doing? Kaye wasn’t dead two months, and he was mooning over a strange woman’s beautiful eyes? Knock it off, DeVore.

  He grabbed the bottle of dish soap off the counter and squirted a stream into the side of the sink with the fewest dishes in it, then turned the water as hot as it would go.

  Mickey nudged into the space beside him at the sink and went to work on a pot with macaroni and cheese cemented to the bottom.

  Doug grabbed a dishrag and rinsed it in the soapy water. He headed back to the dining room, where the kids were arguing about what to watch on TV. “Huh-uh. Turn it off. No TV until your homework’s done,” he said.

  “Da-ad,” Landon started.

  Doug cut him off. “End of discussion.” He handed Kayeleigh the soggy dishrag. “Please go wipe off the table so you and Landon can get going on your homework.” He put a hand on each twin’s head. “You two go get your pj’s on…and take Harley with you.”

  When he was sure the kids were on task, he came back to the kitchen to stand beside Mickey at the sink. She’d already emptied one sink and was starting on the other side.

  “Wow. You’re fast.”

  “I’m running out of room.”

  “Huh?”

  She nodded toward the precarious stack of dishes drying in the rack on the drainboard.

  He rolled up his shirtsleeves and grabbed a couple of wilted dishtowels from the back of a kitchen chair. He took a covert sniff, hoping they weren’t sour, before he handed one to her. They worked in silence side by side for several minutes while he scrambled for something to say.

  “I hope the kids were good today,” he came up with finally. “I’m sorry about being late again.”

  “Your kids are always good. They’ve never been a bit of trouble.”

  He put the dishtowel down and looked askance at her. “Are we talking about the same kids?”