on the door of the building.
Patty Clark was a very attractive woman, he thought. She appeared to be about thirty, had black, shiny hair that fell to just above her shoulders and dark, expressive eyes.
Even when she had been pregnant there was something about her that would definitely catch a man’s appreciative eye. And now? Whew. He’d felt the heat coiling low in his body when he’d looked into the dark depths of her eyes.
Man, Patty had a rough road to go. Divorced, the mother of a busy little boy and a newborn daughter? Her husband must have been a real scumball to make taking on what Patty was facing seem a better choice than to stay married to the jerk.
The next time he felt overwhelmed by the single-parent role he’d think of Patty Clark and what she was dealing with. Pretty Patty. He hoped she had family to lend her a hand, both physically and emotionally, a support group. Even still, that wouldn’t erase the fact that each night when Patty locked the door of her home against the world, she was alone to cope with the needs of those two children. Damn, that was a lot to handle and…
“Montgomery,” David said, shaking his head. “Why are you sitting here like a dolt mentally minding someone else’s business? Someone you don’t even know, and will probably never see again after today?”
David put the vehicle in reverse, checked his mirror, then backed out of the parking place. But before he drove from the lot, he looked at the doors to the Fuzzy Bunny Day Care Center one more time, the image of pretty Patty Clark flickering in his mind’s eye in crystal clarity.
It was a typical busy day at the Fuzzy Bunny. With twenty energy-filled children there were the usual squabbles, lots of laughter, a skinned knee that needed a special Bugs Bunny Band-Aid and a hug for the wounded warrior.
After lunch the children collapsed on tiny cots and took much-needed naps, allowing the caregivers to eat their own lunches and get a second breath. Patty ate quickly, then went into Marjorie’s office to give Sophia a bottle. She settled onto the soft leather chair behind the desk and fed her hungry daughter.
Patty’s mind drifted back to the conversation she’d had with David that morning.
He’d sounded so wistful when he’d spoken of having wanted a large family, she mused. Wistful and resigned to the fact that it wasn’t going to happen. Where was Sarah Ann’s mother, the woman who would have given David more children? David was probably wondering where in the world Tucker and Sophia’s father was. But, of course, one did not ask such personal questions of a person one hardly knew.
Patty sighed.
Her tale of woe would sound like a badly written soap opera, yet it was her reality and she’d been dealing with it inch by emotional inch over the past months, gaining at least a modicum of inner peace.
But would she ever totally forget the devastating pain she’d gone through when Peter had moved out of their home and into his secretary’s apartment the day after Thanksgiving, just before Patty had discovered she was pregnant with their second child? And as a Christmas gift? Peter Clark had served her with divorce papers one week before the special holiday.
She’d tried so hard to talk to him, to make him understand how sorry she was that she hadn’t been an adequate wife, that she’d do much better in the future if he’d only give her another chance. But no, his mind was made up. Their marriage was over, he was in love with his secretary and that was that.
She had failed.
She’d done her very best to keep the house clean and picked up despite having a busy little boy who left a trail of toys everywhere. She’d prepared nourishing meals with Peter’s favorite desserts made from scratch. She’d never pleaded fatigue or a headache when he reached for her in the night but… It hadn’t been good enough. She hadn’t been good enough.
She was a devoted mother. She knew that. But she had failed miserably in the role of wife to her husband, and because of that he’d left her for another woman who could and would meet his needs.
Because of her, Tucker rarely saw his father. More often than not he did not show up when he was scheduled to have Tucker for an outing. Tucker no longer asked about his daddy. When Peter did manage to come for his son, Tucker trudged out the doors with a frown on his little face, then ran into Patty’s embrace upon his return.
And this new baby? Patty thought, gazing at Sophia. When she’d told Peter she was pregnant he’d rolled his eyes in disgust and told her to have her attorney contact his attorney about adjusting future child-support payments.
He never acknowledged her changing body when he came for Tucker, nor asked how she was feeling or if she knew if she was having a girl or a boy. He knew when the baby was due but he hadn’t contacted her to see if she’d given birth. He just didn’t care.
Because she had failed as a wife.
To Peter she was the mother of his children, nothing more. Because she had that title he was going to have to fork over a chunk of his paycheck every month to help feed and clothe those children. Patty was an ex-wife, and he’d moved on to be with someone who knew how to perform in that role properly.
“Patty?” Susan said, coming into the office and snapping her back from her tormented thoughts. “This is the first chance I’ve had to really speak to you alone. Has Peter seen Sophia yet?”
Patty shook her head. “He knew when my due date was, but I haven’t heard from him. He hasn’t shown up on his scheduled visitation days for several months to take Tucker for an outing, either. Tucker rarely mentions his daddy anymore. Well, it’s Peter’s loss. I have two wonderful children and I’m enjoying being a mother to them more than I could ever begin to express in words. Life is good.”
“I don’t know how you can be so cheerful,” Susan said. “I’d have murder on my mind if a man did to me what Peter did to you, Patty. Every time I think about it my blood boils. But you? You just keep on smiling.”
Because she’d cried until she’d had no more tears to shed, Patty thought.
Chapter Two
The afternoon passed quickly and just after five o’clock parents began to arrive to pick up their offspring before the center closed at six. At five minutes before six o’clock Susan planted her hands on her hips and stared at the front doors.
“That’s strange,” she said to Patty. “Ever since David Montgomery started bringing Sarah Ann here you could set your watch by him. He picks her up at five-forty-five on the dot, never, ever later than that.”
“Well, ten minutes doesn’t mean anything other than the traffic is heavier than usual,” Patty said, sinking onto a rocking chair used for story hour. “You go ahead, Susan. I’ll wait for David. Sarah Ann is the only child who hasn’t been picked up and she and Tucker are playing nicely together with the blocks. Sophia just ate so she’s fine, too. I’ll use these few minutes to rest my weary self.”
“I hate to leave you here alone,” Susan said, frowning, “but Theresa’s caregiver will be furious if I’m late.”
“Then go, go, go,” Patty said, flapping her hands at her. “I’ve worked here since January and no one has ever been later than a few minutes after six.”
“Not during my two years here, either,” Susan said. “I don’t
