Father in Training

Sandy stood at the bottom of the stairs and looked around. Her kids has been so good about helping-despite a few complaints-she'd given them a break and called in a service to clean the windows. Sunlight shone brightly through the freshly washed glass. All the rooms had been painted, the bathrooms scrubbed. Nichole and Blake had even weeded the rose garden out back. All they needed now was for their furniture to arrive.

She walked into the kitchen, then through the utility room and out the back door. Her kids were sitting on the back porch drinking sodas. They were much too quiet.

'What's wrong?' she asked.

Lindsay studied the toe of her right athletic shoe. 'Nothing. We finished papering the kitchen cupboards.'

'Thanks.'

Sandy took a seat next to her oldest. With Kyle no longer a daily fixture in their lives, Lindsay hadn't bothered to wear her nicest summer clothing. Today she'd pulled on a torn pair of shorts that had once been light blue but that had faded to a sort of institutional gray. Her T-shirt wasn't much better. There was a juice stain over the pocket, and one sleeve was coming off at the shoulder. Even her brown hair seemed limp, just lying on her back instead of bouncing with each step.

As usual, Blake sat off by himself, over in a corner of the porch with his back pressed against the house. Her son was playing with one of his hand-held video games for the first time since they'd moved. As she watched, his fingers moved nimbly over the buttons, destroying electronic bad guys and making his private world safe once again. His glasses slipped down his nose. Absently, he pushed them into place, then took a sip of his drink before returning his attention to his computer game.

Nichole scooted over to lean against her. 'I'm hot, Mommy,' her youngest told her. 'Can we go swimming?'

Sandy shook her head. 'We have to wait for the movers, honey. They called and said they would be here later today.'

'If they don't break down again,' Lindsay said. 'You're grumpy all of a sudden. What's going on?'

'I hate this place,' Lindsay told her. 'There's nothing to do. There are no kids my age, or anything. I can't believe you moved us here.'

Mutinous brown eyes glared at her. Lindsay had Thomas's eyes. She had her father's sense of adventure. Unfortunately, she had her mother's temper. Sandy recognized a lot of the unfocused adolescent rage from her own youth in her daughter. Her little girl was growing up fast.

'You didn't seem to mind it too much a few days ago.'

'A few days ago, something was going on around here.'

Yeah, Kyle had been a part of their lives. Okay, so they all missed him. They would get over it. After all, they'd only known him a few days.

Sandy wished she could make her kids believe it was going to be all right. They would make friends and settle into a routine soon enough. She reminded herself change was never easy, but it was often for the best.

A loud rumbling broke the stillness of the afternoon. Lindsay straightened, even Blake looked up from his game.

'The truck's here!' Nichole crowed. She grinned at her mother.

Sandy reached out and ruffled the little girl's red curls. 'I think you're right. Let's go see.'

Nichole took Sandy's hand and skipped down the stairs next to her. Lindsay and Blake followed more slowly. As they rounded the house, Sandy saw a large moving van backing up down the long driveway. The driver checked his mirror, then glanced at someone waving him in from the porch. Sandy looked at the man who was standing there as if he owned the place.

Her heart told her who it was even before she recognized the tall, lean body and the short dark hair. Her knees quivered slightly and her breath caught in her throat. He hadn't gone away. She was a fool, from the top of her head down to her toes. A fool and glad he was there.

'Kyle!' Lindsay called as soon as she saw him. 'What are you doing here?'

'Helping.' He gave her a smile, but his gaze met Sandy's. 'I saw the truck and figured you'd need some.'

'Thanks,' Sandy said, climbing up the side stairs to the wide, wooden porch. When she got close to him, she felt awkward. 'You didn't have to.'

'I wanted to,' he said. 'Just being neighborly.'

The trunk jerked to a halt with the back end a few feet from the porch. Two men jumped out of the cab, then the driver, Al, climbed down. She recognized him from when he'd come to pick up her belongings in Los Angeles.

'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