Arms still filled with sheets, she stood there. And the bell rang a second time.
“Dooo,” Dawson said, throwing down the control and rolling onto his knees to stand.
Dropping her sheets onto the only armchair in the room, Janie went after him. He’d just learned how to unlock the front door and she didn’t want him running outside in his bare feet.
Nor did she want him facing their inquisitors alone.
She hadn’t even had a chance to wipe his face.
He was her angel.
Perfect in his imperfection.
She would die before she’d have anyone look down on him in his own home.
AS A PHYSICIAN Burke came into contact with people from all walks of life. While he didn’t make house calls, or visit any of his patients at home, he was fully aware that not everyone lived in a neighborhood like his own.
Heck, even as plebeian as it was, Janie Young’s street was nicer than the one he’d grown up on. At least during the two weeks out of a month he’d been with his dad.
He just hadn’t expected the beautiful cook to reside in such a plain place. Weed-spattered hard dirt for a front yard. A porch that could have looked cute with a chair or plant on it.
And...
The door pulled open and she was there...or at least, someone was. It took him a second to realize that the frowning woman opening the door to them was the same perfectly turned-out beauty they’d seen on set the day before.
“Doo!”
Burke glanced down at the husky utterance in time to see Dawson’s backside as he raced away.
Typical toddlers could create havoc without warning. He could just imagine the kinds of things that could crop up with a special-needs child.
“We can come back another time if you’d rather.”
In sweats, a ponytail that was half falling out, and completely bare-faced, the woman didn’t look like she’d been expecting company.
Which was when it hit him that she’d forgotten their appointment.
“Come on, Kels. We can do this another time.” He turned to head back to the car.
“No!” Janie’s voice called out to him, “Really, you’ve come all this way and it’s fine.”
“It wasn’t that far. And we were going to have dinner on this side of town anyway.” He named a family-owned Italian place known around the entire valley for its authentically delicious cuisine.
“Dad!” Kelsey frowned at him. “We were not! We’ve got p—” She stopped. Glanced at Janie. “Well, dinner’s already made,” she finished. And then added, “Besides, this is my only chance to meet Dawson before next Saturday, and if he’s at the studio, I won’t be able to help out if I don’t meet him...”
“She’s right,” Janie said. “I was expecting you. I’m just running behind today. Come on in.” Her smile came out.
And hit Burke in the gut. Those lips softened in an upward curve, the light in her vivid blue eyes held his gaze—even more than the figure her sweats didn’t disguise.
“Please come in.”
Embarrassed that she’d had to ask another time, Burke followed his daughter inside.
* * *
JANIE DIDN’T KNOW for sure what she’d been expecting. Probably nothing good, which was why she’d been in a tizzy all day long. But it certainly hadn’t been the way Kelsey’s blue-eyed gaze sought out Dawson and stayed with him. Almost to the point of rudeness. Except that the girl’s expression seemed to be filled with a compassion beyond her years.
“Dawson?”
The boy grunted when he heard Janie’s voice—his attention seemingly on the little figure racing around the screen. The music coming from the set gave a downward spiral, signaling a lost life, but Dawson pushed buttons and had the critter up and running within seconds.
“Dawson,” she said again, more firmly.
What, if anything, the boy paid attention to when he was enrapt with whatever was in front of him, no one knew at this point. But she knew he’d heard her.
And understood her, too.
He continued to play. Janie felt the heat creeping up into her cheeks and hated herself for it. Dawson was being Dawson.
And she’d be darned if she was going to start wanting him to be someone different. She, of all people. What was the matter with her?
What was it about this family that she felt the need to impress them?
Because she had to be good enough to best them on television?
Taking a deep breath, she felt calm come over her. And walked over to stand between Dawson and the television set. “Time to turn it off,” she told him, aware of the two people standing just a few feet away, still behind the couch that separated the foyer from the living room, and yet focused now on what mattered.
She could turn off the television herself. Dawson might just smile up at her and move. He might not. No matter, they had their ways of doing things and she was not going to do him the disservice of changing them.
Not for anyone.
“Gah!” Dawson blurted loudly, continuing to press the buttons on his controller.
She couldn’t see behind her, but recognized the sound when another life was lost.
“Time to turn it off,” she said again, her voice as patient as usual. The air in the room was cool and comfortable, light, as she stood there, remembering who she was. Who they were. Until it was just her and Dawson, alone in their own world.
“Dawson, time to turn it off,” she said again. As she would until he minded her. What part of his stubbornness came from lack of putting two and two together, and what part was typical rebellion, she didn’t know.
What she knew was that her son had to learn his boundaries and the only way he was going to learn was if she taught him.
She couldn’t do it for him. He had to do it for himself. Whether he wanted to or not.
“Dawson...”
“Kaaaayyy.” Dawson dropped the game console. Picked up the TV remote. Pushed the off button. And then sat, facing her knees, his arms folded across his chest.
She wanted to hug him. And looked at her guests instead.
“Come on in,” she said. “Have a seat.” She motioned toward the couch. And sat on the edge of the
