Full-Time Father

side of the house, the scent of the ocean and the sound of the surf on the shore. It was a living, breathing romantic postcard and she was stuck in the center of the picture. So much for being the more logical of the twins.

Maybe it was the man himself, but Erin didn’t want that to be true. If only they’d kept the conversation on Stacey and Christie where it belonged. If only she could stop thinking about him. If only he hadn’t kissed her.

That kiss. That damn kiss. It had been so unexpected. One minute they’d been calmly talking and the next he’d excused himself to go work in his office. On the way out, he’d kissed her. As if it were a common occurrence.

Had he meant to? Did it mean anything?

Yes, it means something, she told herself. It means you’re losing your mind.

She crossed to the bathroom and quickly washed her face. After brushing her teeth and combing her hair into sleek order, she returned to the bedroom and dressed. A quick peek out the curtained window showed her that the sky was still dark. There was no hint of the sunrise so she couldn’t tell what kind of day it was going to be. She walked into the closet and grabbed a pair of jeans. Mornings were usually cool at the beach.

Five minutes later she poked her head in to check on her daughter. Christie was sound asleep, her worn teddy bear tucked under her arm. Erin adjusted the covers, then started along the hallway. The old house seemed to creak with her every step. She crept down the stairs, holding her breath and keeping to the side by the wall. As she passed the second floor, she wondered which room was Parker’s. She hadn’t been with Christie during the tour of the upstairs of the house.

She tried not to think of him sleeping, but trying wasn’t enough. Pictures of him in bed-what did he wear, if anything at all?-flashed through her mind. Her lips tingled as if he’d just repeated the brief kiss.

“Forget it,” she said softly as she reached the first floor and walked toward the kitchen. Three lights on the terrace shone through the living room windows and illuminated her way.

“He’s not interested in you,” she went on, trying to talk some sense into herself. “He’s made that clear. It was just a thank-you sort of kiss. Meaningless.” Except in her suddenly unruly mind.

It was the terrace, she decided as she entered the kitchen, flipped on the light switch and started looking for the coffeemaker. There was no other explanation. She wasn’t melodramatic or romantic. That had been Stacey’s problem. She loved her sister dearly but had never understood her need for drama. Life had a certain rhythm. People took turns. It was balanced and orderly.

She found the coffeepot and the coffee, then poured in the water and sat on a stool to wait. The kitchen was large and bright with big windows overlooking the side garden. Unlike the rest of the house, this room had been completely modernized. Oak cabinets and new appliances lined three walls. The huge center island had a cook top and a sink as well as an eating area running along one side. The cobalt blue bar stool seat cushions matched the tile splash guard along the stretch of wall between the counters and the cabinets.

The smell of coffee revived her. Erin leaned on the counter and wondered why this was happening to her. What was it about the situation that made her act so out of character? She’d always been so calm about everything, taking things as they came, waiting until the time was right, until it was appropriate to respond. Waiting for her turn. Unlike Stacey, she’d never grabbed at life with both hands.

The coffee finished dripping. She slid off the stool to get a cup at the same moment the back door opened. Kiki stepped inside and the two women stared at each other.

Erin registered several facts at once. First, Kiki wasn’t wearing the dress she’d had on the previous night although she recognized it as the garment slung over the housekeeper’s arm. Second, the pink jogging suit was the exact color of the blush climbing the other woman’s cheeks. Third, there was the distinctive sound of a car driving away.

Kiki recovered first. “The coffee smells great.”

“Help yourself.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” She set the dress and her purse on the small table in front of the window, then walked over to the cupboard above the pot and pulled down a cup.

Erin stared at her. “Are you just now getting in?”

“Why, yes.”

“But it’s nearly six in the morning.”

“I know, dear.” Kiki held out the pot. “Do you want some?”

“What? Oh, thank you.” She waited while the housekeeper poured coffee then added cream into the steaming liquid, and glanced at the other woman. Kiki was getting home at six in the morning? She’d been out all night?

“I’m always available to baby-sit,” Kiki said, “but in the past, if Parker didn’t need me in the evening, I went out.” She took a sip of her coffee, then smiled. “Don’t look so shocked.”

“Do I?” Erin resumed her seat on the stool. “I don’t mean to be. It’s great that you have a…life.”

Kiki settled next to her. She grinned. “What you mean is that it’s nice that I have a man. It’s true what they say, you know. Life does begin at forty. I’ve been living mine for nearly fourteen years.”

“You’ve been dating the same man for fourteen years?”

Kiki laughed. “Honey, no. Not the same man. Several men. I go out, I enjoy myself. Sometimes I don’t come home before dawn.”

Great, the housekeeper had a more interesting life than she did, Erin thought glumly. Joyce had been right. She was living like a nun.

“What’s his name?” Erin asked.

Kiki leaned one elbow on the counter and looked at her. Bright blond hair fell over the housekeeper’s forehead. Lines crinkled around her blue eyes as she smiled. “Which one?”

“How many are there?”

“Three.”

Three? “Three different men?”

“You’re looking shocked again. It’s not all that uncommon.”

“It is to me.”

“You young people are so conservative. You should live a little. Play the field. I recommend it highly.”

Erin thought about that for a minute. She hadn’t had a date since Christie was born, and Kiki was keeping company with three different men. “Do they know about each other?”

“Of course.” Kiki raised her hand and began ticking off fingers. “Dan is nearly sixty. His wife died a couple of years ago. He likes living by himself and doesn’t plan to remarry. Still, a man has needs, so I see him once a week. Next is Roger. He’s my age and he’s divorced.”

Erin made the mistake of taking a sip of her coffee while Kiki was talking. She swallowed it the wrong way and started choking. Kiki pounded her on the back, then waited politely until she was done.

“Better?” she asked when Erin finally caught her breath.

“Sure,” Erin croaked. “Go on.”

“I also see Roger once a week. Now Skip is my boy toy.”

Erin had learned her lesson. This time the cup was only partway to her mouth. Coffee sloshed over the side, but she managed to keep it off her sweatshirt.

“You have a boy toy?”

“That’s what I call him. Skip is younger, barely forty, I think, although he’s never said. He’s also divorced and not ready for a relationship. But he’s a man, and a man has-”

“Needs. Yes, I’ve figured that part out.”

“I see Skip at least twice a week.” Kiki leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Younger men have more powers of recovery, if you know what I mean.”

Erin felt a flush climb her cheeks. She cleared her throat. “Who were you with last night?”

Kiki sighed dramatically. “Skip. A few hours with him and I feel like a new woman.”

“They know about each other and don’t mind?”

“I’m very honest with them. Everyone is getting what he or she wants, so why would anyone mind? I’m discreet and careful. Skip and I even use condoms. Imagine, a woman of my age.”

“Secretly you’re nineteen,” Erin muttered.

Kiki laughed. “I know.”

“I’ve never known anyone like you.”

Kiki’s laughter faded. She slid off the stool and walked over to the cupboards. While she pulled out flour, spices