But isn’t that kind of a personal question?”
She frowned at him. “Um … okay … it wasn’t me who introduced the word into the conversation. You did.” “I did not!”
“Yes, you did,” she said patiently. “Because my imagination’s not that vivid. Not that it matters to me one way or the other.” Huffing a little, she dragged the king-size comforter off the dining table, only to have it swallow her whole as she tried to fold it, like she was wrestling a monster marshmallow. Finally she gave up and dumped it on the sofa. “But you don’t strike me as the sleeping-naked type.”
“Could we please move on?”
“You’re really cute when you blush. And it’s okay, really. Since I do, too.” “Do what?”
“Sleep naked. You hungry?”
Lord above, being in the same room with her was like riding the Tilt-A-Whirl at the fair. Over the dizziness, Silas watched her zip to the kitchen, ignoring—more or less—the way her butt twitched as she walked. Then he opened his mouth to say “no,” that all he wanted was for this night to be over, but then he realized, one, that his stomach felt like it was going to eat itself and, two, that the house smelled like an Italian restaurant.
Against his better judgment, he let his gaze sweep what he could see of his kitchen from where he stood. As he feared, it made Armageddon look like a minor dustup. The sooner he got this chick out of his house, the better. Except—
“Damn. I should’ve run you home before I put the boys to bed.”
“Oh! That’s okay, I figured you’d get back late. So I called Patrice, asked her to come get me in a little while. We’ve got a couple clients to see early tomorrow out at Jemez, so I’ll probably crash at her house, since it’s halfway to the pueblo already.”
The idea of this woman being responsible for bringing someone’s baby into the world made him shudder. But then, childbirth was a messy business, too, so he supposed she felt right at home. He looked at his kitchen again.
“There’s actual food in there somewhere?”
“Just something I tossed together out of whatever you had on hand,” she said, shoving aside … stuff to plunk a casserole dish onto the counter. “Go on, you sit—” she pointed at the formal dining table behind him “—I’ll warm some of this up and bring it right over. I see you’ve got beer—you want one?”
He sat, becoming one with the chair. “Please.”
A minute later she set a heaping dish of her concoction in front of him—pasta and tomato sauce and sausage and peppers and cheese and heaven knew what else. And you’ll eat it and love it, he thought, almost too hungry to care.
“Huh,” he said, taking a second bite over the clatter of pans, water rushing into the sink. “This is really good.”
“Thanks. Tell me if you want more, there’s plenty. You eat while I clean.”
But once he’d taken the edge off his hunger, he felt weird sitting here while she was in there cleaning. So he got up and moved his plate and beer to the breakfast bar, climbing up on the stool.
“Aw … didja get lonely?” she said with a little smile as she wiped down the island. A throwaway question, hardly meant to cause the pang it did. When he didn’t answer she tossed him another glance, then sashayed to the sink to rinse out the sponge. “So how’s your mom?”
“Looks like she’ll be out of commission for a while,” Silas said around another mouthful of food. “She’s in a splint until the swelling goes down enough to put on a cast. It’ll definitely put a cramp in her style, that’s for sure. And mine. I’ll have to make other day-care arrangements.”
“Well …” Jewel’s entire face scrunched in thought. “I’ve heard lots of good things about the Baptist preschool. And there’s that place out on the highway, in the old convenience store Thea Griego used to live in?”
“With the big jungle mural across the front?”
“Yep. I know the gal who runs it, she’s the real deal. Although they might be full up at the moment—”
“It’s okay,” Silas said, almost irritably. “I’ll check around in the morning. So … what all went on in here while I was gone?”
Jewel laughed. “What didn’t go on, is more like it. And I apologize for keeping them up so late, but they were having so much fun—well, me, too, but that’s something else again—I didn’t have the heart to play mean old babysitter and make them go to bed. Especially since I doubted they would’ve gone to sleep on time, anyway. They missed you,” she said with a little smile. “And they were so worried about their grandma. And no way was I gonna let them sit in front of the TV all night, no, sir.”
Dinner dishes scraped and rinsed, she pushed down the dishwasher door and pulled out the bottom rack. “So we made cookies—they’re on that dish over there if you want some—” she nodded toward a foil-covered plate at the end of the bar “—and read a bunch of books—I made Ollie read a couple to me, he sounds like he could use the practice—and then we played about a million games of Snakes and Ladders, and then we played Secret City.”
“Which called for wholesale destruction of my living room.”
She straightened, shoving a piece of hair off her forehead with her wrist. Even with her glasses, he could see the knot between her brows. “Kids learn by playing, Silas. By using their imaginations. Okay, so maybe we sorta went overboard—I’m sorry about your living room. But I put it all back together, didn’t I? And the boys had fun. Isn’t that kinda the whole point of being a kid?”
Life’s not all about having fun, he wanted to say, except even he knew how stuffy and ridiculous it would have sounded. And of course he wanted the kids to have fun, but …
But, what? Yeah, that’s right—no answer, huh?
His dinner finished, Silas reached for the foil-covered plate. Catching a whiff of the peanut butter cookies lurking underneath, he smiled. Despite himself.
“You might want to put peanut butter on your list,” Jewel said, her back to him as she continued cleaning. “I got carried away with that, too.”
Silas bit into one, sighing at the taste of childhood, of innocence against his tongue, and felt like a heel. “Where’d you get the flour?”
“One of your neighbors. Which reminds me, you owe Mrs. Maple two cups of flour. And an egg.”
Silas hesitated, hoping she’d turn around. She didn’t. “These are delicious, too.”
She shrugged. Silas sighed.
“Jewel, it’s been a long day and I’m ready to drop, but that’s still no excuse for me acting like I did when I came home. Especially considering you basically saved my butt. You not only survived my kids for—” he squinted at the microwave clock “—nearly six hours, you obviously took excellent care of them. Not to mention going above and beyond with dinner and the cookies. So I apologize for acting like a bozo.”
Finally she looked at him. “You
