blessings now. How many more are there going to be?”
Abbey’s expression turned impish. “I’m hoping for seven, but don’t tell Pete. He always clutches his chest and moans when I hint at four more.”
Seven children? Seven? On purpose?
“I’m with Pete,” Crissy murmured, unable to imagine what life would be like. Chaos, for sure.
“We’ll see,” Abbey said. “If we’re done adding to our family, I’m happy. But if there are a few more kids who need a good home, then we’ll make room. We’ve been lucky. It’s been harder for Josh.”
There was an opening Crissy couldn’t ignore. “In what way?”
“You know he’s a widower, right?”
Crissy shook her head, shocked at the news. “No. I didn’t know. She must have died very young.”
“Too young. Stacey was barely twenty-seven. Cancer. She’d had it as a child and it went into remission.
But she always knew there was a good chance it would come back and it did. She died very quickly, four years ago. Josh was devastated. For a while we wondered if he would make it. But he’s finally getting better. Smiling more. Enjoying life. Dating.”
Crissy tried to take it all in. Josh and Stacey couldn’t have had very long together. She’d never lost anyone close to her and couldn’t imagine how much that would hurt. Talking to him she wouldn’t have guessed he’d been through so much. He was the kind of man who—
She caught Abbey looking at her, a knowing gleam in her eyes. Crissy replayed the conversation. One word stood out. Dating.
“Did you mean me?” she asked and took a step back. “Josh and I aren’t dating. He’s helping me with the whole Brandon thing.”
“He’s smiling,” Abbey told her. “So are you seeing anyone?”
Crissy laughed. “You’re trying to set me up?”
“Why not?”
“Complications. Josh is the last guy I’d want to get involved with.” Their family connection—Brandon—made the situation impossible.
“He’s a great guy,” Abbey said.
“I already guessed that, but no thanks.”
“Don’t you think he’s sexy?”
Involuntarily Crissy felt her attention being pulled to Josh as he ran across the backyard. His body moved with an easy grace and somewhere inside of her body parts sighed in appreciation. “He’s okay.”
“Nothing more?”
“No,” she lied.
“Then I’ll have to find you someone else.”
Great. A matchmaker. “And if I told you I wasn’t interested in romance right now?”
Abbey grinned. “I wouldn’t believe you.”
After dinner, Crissy collected plates and headed for the kitchen. Abbey called out to stop her.
“Crissy, while you’re in the kitchen, would you grab the ice cream for the cupcakes? There are cookie sheets in the freezer with individual scoops in little cups.”
Of course there were, Crissy thought, guessing Abbey took care of every detail.
“No problem,” she said.
“Great. Brandon, honey, would you help Crissy?”
“Sure, Mom.”
Crissy stumbled slightly, caught herself and continued into the house. Apparently Abbey’s need to meddle didn’t stop at romance. It seeped into every corner of life.
Crissy did her best not to panic. In truth, she’d totally avoided having any contact with the boy. She’d watched him play football before dinner and had listened to him chat with his parents’ friends during the meal. She’d been observing rather than participating, wanting to get to know him without him being aware of her.
Now she walked into the kitchen, put the dishes on the table and wondered what she should say. The simple act of starting a conversation seemed impossible. Her brain went blank and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.
Okay, she thought frantically. If talking wasn’t going to happen then she should act. She walked to the refrigerator and opened the freezer door. Then frowned.
“There’s no ice cream.”
“It’s in here,” Brandon said and led the way into a large laundry room that held an upright freezer.
He opened the door and she saw cookie sheets covered with cupcake liners, each filled with a perfect scoop of ice cream.
“Oh, my,” Crissy breathed. “Your mom is so together it’s almost scary.”
Brandon chuckled. “She’s into feeding people. She’s always bringing cakes and cookies and stuff to school.”
“That must make you popular.”
“It helps.” He pulled out one of the trays and handed it to her, then took the second one himself.
“I don’t cook much,” she admitted. “My idea of a home-cooked meal is to stop for a salad on the way home.”
Brandon wrinkled his nose. “Girl food,” he muttered.
What? Girl food? “Hey, you don’t get to think less of me because I’m a girl. I saw you running during the game and I could take you.”
He snorted. “Yeah, right.”
She might not know how to talk to a twelve-year-old boy, but she knew exactly how fast she was when she wanted to be.
“Want to put your attitude to the test?”
He glanced at her boots. “You gonna wear those?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I don’t think so. I’m fast.”
“I’m faster.”
Brandon stopped on the porch and looked at her. “If you think you’re so tough, you can play in the next game. It starts right after dessert.”
“You’re on.”
His eyes widened. “For real?”
“Yes, and when you see how good I am, you’ll bow down and apologize.”
He grinned. “That’s not gonna happen.”
Crissy shook her head. “You are so wrong.”
The
