“Tomorrow.”
“Good. She asked when you’d be home from Cal Tech for spring break.” She looked across the table. “Harry, did you go to the nursery to pick up that potted hydrangea for her balcony?”
“In the car.”
Charlene asked, “Why is she living in the middle of a big construction project? It must be a pain for the crew to work around her.”
Marla’s thoughts exactly. “It was a condition of the construction contract when Dempsey accepted the job. He didn’t want to displace her while they worked on the building. He insisted they could complete the project with her there with very little extra time.”
“Oh.” Charlene nodded. “Did you boys order lunch for us?”
“Cheeseburger for you and—”
“—chef salad for Marla.”
That’s what she meant about finishing sentences.
“Just what I wanted.” Marla was sick of chef salads, but the boys were so smug about being able to read her mind, she didn’t want to burst their bubble.
“We know,” they said.
She barely had time to take a sip of the tea when the waitress brought their plates. Harry, Barry, and Charlene had humongous cheeseburgers and mountains of heavenly smelling fries. Marla swore the waitress twisted her lips when she handed over the salad as if to say, “Diet isn’t working, chubby.” Wait until the skinny little snot saw the tip she’d get for that look.
Charlene produced a to-do list from her large shoulder bag, purse, overnight-emergency—whatever that she always lugged. Prepared for any eventuality, her Charlene was. God bless her fun-loving little heart. She listened as Char droned on about the singles meet-up. Marla ate about half her salad and pushed the plate away. Half an hour later, she checked her watch and yawned.
Charlene rolled her eyes. “Okay, Marla, I get it. You’re on a tight schedule.” Char eyed the boys. “Remember, do your dazzle-the-girls-thing and don’t mess up my perfect plans. You’re there in case Marla or I get stuck with a creep.”
The boys bobbed their heads. “Gotcha.”
Char took a dainty sip of tea to wash down a big mouthful of fries. “Oh, I almost forgot. Did you boys know Dwayne Dempsey was working on the condo project with Marla?”
“Nope,” they said.
“You probably don’t remember him, but he’s Johnny Dempsey’s middle son. He’s, oh, lordy lord, the most gorgeous bundle of testosterone on two feet, if you ask me.”
“We didn’t.” They snickered.
Marla interrupted. “First of all, Charlene, he’s working for me, not with me. I own the building. It’s my project, my design, and my money.”
Char rolled her big, expressive eyes. “So sorry. A minor detail.”
“Hardly. I pay his wages.”
Char flashed a dismissive finger wave. “Whatever. You have to admit he’s the best-looking man in town.” She smiled at the boys. “Other than you two, of course, and guess what?” She winked. “He wants to get in Marla’s pants.”
That was enough. Marla smacked her hands on the table. “What a pile of horse feathers! You believe all men think about twenty-four-seven is sex?”
The three of them turned to her with identical smirks and bobbing heads. “Um hum.”
Dwayne served Amber a plate of macaroni and cheese with Vienna sausages then sat across from her at the kitchen table. “Now, that wasn’t such a lot of homework was it? I told you we’d get through it in no time.”
She grinned, her cheeks puffed with food like a hungry squirrel. “Daddy?”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere. Take your time.”
She nodded and swallowed. “Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“How come I don’t have a mommy? All my friends have mommies.” Her big golden eyes could always melt his heart.
“You had a mommy. She couldn’t stay with us. You already know this, hon.”
Amber propped her cheeks in her hands. “I don’t remember her, but I smile at her picture in my room every night before I go to sleep.”
He touched her nose and smiled. “Your mom loved you very much.” The lie sat bitter on his tongue. Francine wouldn’t have left if she cared a damn about either one of them.
“I know, Daddy, but couldn’t you get me another one?” She took on a practical tone. “If you got us another mama you wouldn’t have to do everything around here, you’d have a grownup lady to hug and kiss, and I’d have somebody to show me how to make a French braid.”
Dwayne chuckled. “Yeah, I kind of botched that up, didn’t I?” He marveled at the workings of her six-year-old mind. Where had that grownup hugging and kissing idea come from?
She wrinkled her nose when he put green beans on her plate.
“Just a few. They’re so good for you. If you had a mom, she’d make sure you always ate your veggies.”
“Daddy, they’re yucky.” She pulled a face. “They’re green.”
“That’s why they’re called green beans.”
They chewed in silence for a few minutes. Amber grudgingly ate her beans, acting all the while like they were poison. She took a big swallow of milk. “Daddy?”
“What, honey?”
“Are you too old to get me a new mommy? Grampa Johnny says you’re a bratcherler. What’s that?”
He laughed. “First of all, I’m not too old, and I’m not a bachelor. Uncle Cluny is a bachelor. A bachelor is a man who never married. Grandpa’s wrong, but don’t tell him I said so. We wouldn’t want to hurt his feelings, would we?”
She grinned. “No, we’ll make it a secret from him.”
“Good girl.” He stood. “Now, Marine, hop to and march your plate to the sink, and then go fill the bathtub. I’ll do the dishes and put the movie on when you’re ready.”
Dwayne wasn’t sure how many more times he’d be able to sit through Cinderella. He’d coax Amber to consider a new movie next week, but tonight he was too tired to argue about it.
Yes, he wanted to marry again, to get her “a new mommy.” He didn’t know the first thing about mothering a little girl. He was raised
