Not only did she hear the faint ringing of bells, she would swear that she saw actual sparks arc between them. Holy wow. Sparks. She didn’t think that kind of stuff was possible after age thirty.
Nash looked at her. His dark eyes seemed bright with what she wanted to say was passionate fire, but was probably the light from the overhead fixtures. Awareness rippled through her, sensitizing her skin and making her want to fling herself into his arms for a kiss that went on for at least six hours, following by mindless, intense sex. Right there, in front of the appliances.
She swallowed and took a step back. Something was really wrong with her. Seasonal allergies? Too much television? Not enough? She felt soft and wet and achy inside. She felt unsettled. All of this was so out of the ordinary, so unexpected and so extreme that it would be really hilarious…if it weren’t so darned terrifying.
Nash wondered if Stephanie really was issuing an invitation with her parted lips and wide eyes or if that was just wishful thinking on his part. No doubt the latter, he told himself as he heard footsteps on the stairs.
The boys walked into the kitchen. Adam and Jason each had a backpack with them while Brett carried a math book and several sheets of paper.
Nash figured it was time for him to excuse himself. Homework seemed like family time. But before he could say anything, Jason patted the chair next to him and offered a winning smile.
“I have to finish my calendar for summer. I wrote something about each of the months. Wanna hear?”
Nash glanced from the boy to Stephanie who gave him a shrug, as if to say it was his call. When he looked back at Jason, the boy pulled the chair out a little.
What the hell, Nash thought. He crossed to the table and took the seat.
“So your calendar is only three months long,” he said.
“Uh-huh. We did pictures. See—I colored fireworks in the sky for July, coz that’s when it’s the fourth and we always go to the park for fireworks.”
Jason opened a large folder and withdrew a folded sheet of construction paper as he spoke. Nash admired the crayon depiction of fireworks, then bent close to see what Jason had written underneath.
“It’s a poem,” the boy said proudly. “The teacher said we could copy it from the board if we wanted. I can read it to you.”
The last sentence sounded more like a question than a statement. Nash nodded. “Sure. Go ahead.”
Jason cleared his throat, then read the poem. When he was finished Adam quietly pushed a spelling list toward him.
“I got ’em all right,” he said in a low voice.
Nash studied the word list, and the big A at the top of the paper.
“You did great. There are some big words here.”
Adam beamed.
The twins pulled out more papers and talked about their homework. When they’d explained everything they had to do, they started the work. But it wasn’t a silent process. They asked questions, shared each step, bickered over the pencil sharpener and asked for more snacks, another glass of milk or even water. Stephanie kept gently steering them back to their assignments.
“They’re usually more focused than this,” she said as she pulled food out of the refrigerator. “The last couple of weeks of school are always crazy.”
Nash remembered what that was like—the unbearable anticipation of an endless summer with no homework. Being here with the boys reminded him of a lot of things. How he and Kevin were supposed to do their homework as soon as they got home, but with their mom out working, there was no one around to make sure it happened. Nash had always done his, but Kevin had usually ducked outside to play. Later, when their mom got home, they fought about it. Nash had retreated to his room to get lost in a book.
As he glanced at the three bent heads, he realized he didn’t have any children in his life. No kids of friends, no neighbors with little ones running around. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d spent any time with a child. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them; they simply weren’t a part of his world.
Had someone asked him what it would be like to spend an hour or so with three boys, he would have assumed time would go by slowly, that he would feel awkward and restless. But his usual underlying sense that something was wrong seemed to have faded. The twins were friendly enough and while Brett obviously didn’t want him around, Nash understood enough of what he was feeling not to mind. When Nash had been his age, he’d done exactly the same thing.
Stephanie came over and put her hand on Brett’s shoulder. “How’s it going?”
“Fine.”
Nash wasn’t sure that was true. Brett hadn’t written anything on his paper in nearly ten minutes.
Stephanie smiled at Nash. “Brett is in an accelerated math group. He’s already starting on algebra, and it’s a little tough. Unfortunately I was never a math person. Still, he’s way better at it than me.”
Brett winced. “Mo-om, I’m doing fine.”
“I know, honey. You’re doing great.”
Nash glanced down at the open book. “I remember algebra,” he said.
She drew her eyebrows together. “Let me guess. You were a math person.”
“Sorry, yeah.”
“Figures.”
“The thing I always liked about it was the rules. Once you learn them, you keep applying them. Things need to happen in a certain order, otherwise you get the wrong answer.”
She shook her head. “That would be me. The queen of the wrong answer. It was all that do-this-first stuff that made me crazy. Why can’t you just do an equation from left to right, like reading?”
“You can. Sort of. Like this problem here.” He pointed. “You do what’s in the parentheses first, then go from left to right.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s how the steps work. If you’re building a model car and you glue down the hood before you put in the engine, it’s not going to look right.”
She groaned. “Is this where I tell you I can’t put a model together, either?”
Brett tapped his pencil on the table. “Can I have my book back, please.”
“Sure.”
Nash handed it over. At that moment Adam claimed his attention to discuss what color green would do best on his mountains for his report on Wyoming. As Nash checked out the various options, he saw Brett read the first problem again, then start writing on his paper. When he’d finished his calculations, he plugged the answer back into the original equation and quickly solved it. His wide smile told Nash that he’d gotten it right.
Nash handed Adam a colored pencil, then caught Stephanie’s eyes. She mouthed “thank you.” Apparently she’d picked up his attempt to help Brett
