unanswered.
She quickly scrolled through her photographs of the living room. Satisfied she had everything she needed for now, she crossed the room, opened a second set of frosted glass doors and walked into the dining room. Another unused space, judging by the cool temperature and drifts of gift wrap and empty toy packaging littering the floor. There were more yellow-and-mauve streamers and dejected-looking balloons, but everything else about the dining room was neat as a pin. It was spacious, with plenty of room to maneuver around a table that would comfortably seat ten. The furniture was a little too flea-market-finds-meet-grandma’s-attic to really suit the house, but some of it was solid and in good condition. She always liked to keep her budget as low as possible, so she would make it work.
From the moment she’d driven up, she’d loved this house, but now she felt a little sad for it, having its beautiful rooms closed up and uninhabited. This house deserved to be lived in by someone who would love it at least as much as she did.
At the back of the dining room was a third pair of opaque glass doors, closed like the others. She pulled them open, stepped into a spacious and very messy kitchen, tripped over the dog’s water bowl and sent a small tidal wave gushing across the tile floor.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. Who puts a bowl of water in front of a closed door?” Apparently a frazzled single dad did. She had no idea where to look for a mop and she couldn’t leave this huge puddle on the kitchen floor. So much for working through the house on her own. Now she had to find that distractingly sexy and very single dad and ask him for help.
Chapter Two
Nate herded the girls and the dog through the family room.
“Why can’t we stay with the lady?” Molly asked.
“Because I have work to do.”
“We can stay with her.”
“She has work to do, too,” he said, sliding the patio door open.
“Taking pictures?”
“Yes.” And he was happy to leave her on her own. It was one thing to stand with her in the living room, or almost any other room, while she made notes and took photographs. But eventually they would get to his bedroom, and the idea of going in there with her had brought on a mild state of panic.
“She has a pretty purse,” Molly said.
“Does she?” He shut the patio door behind them. He had only noticed her bag was huge. And stuffed full.
“It has cupcakes on it.”
“Does it?”
Martha pulled her thumb out of her mouth. “I yike cupcakes.”
“I know you like cupcakes. Why don’t you two go in the playhouse and have a look at the new dress-up clothes Aunt Britt dropped off this morning.” He’d asked Britt to bring them out here because the girls’ bedroom already looked like Toys “R” Us had tangled with a tornado. “Maybe she brought you some purses.”
His sister, a self-proclaimed clotheshorse, frequently cleared out her closet to make room for new things and bestowed the items she no longer wanted on her nieces. The girls loved it, but their bedroom, the family room and now the playhouse overflowed with toys and Britt’s cast-offs.
“Come on, Martha. Let’s see what she brung us.” Molly snagged the dog by the collar and tugged. “You, too, Gemmy.”
At the entrance to the playhouse, she let go of the Saint’s collar and skipped inside. Martha straggled in behind her, and Gemmy sprawled across the doorway, head resting on her paws.
After they were settled, Nate turned his attention to the rows of potted asters in his makeshift greenhouse and tried not to think about the beautiful woman with the ginormous cupcake purse who was discovering that he was not the world’s greatest housekeeper. How had he not remembered to put a reminder about this meeting in his calendar? If he had, he would have spent last evening tidying up instead of going over the final draft of his current research paper.
He measured the height of a plant and recorded the data in the spreadsheet on his laptop.
Kristi Callahan was stunning in a wholesome girl-next-door sort of way, with a lively swing to her blond ponytail and an engaging flash in her gray-green eyes. More green than gray. She smelled good, too.
His cell phone rang. After three rings, he tracked it to the end of the workbench, where it was hiding beneath a spare pair of gloves. His in-laws’ phone number was displayed on the screen. What now?
“Hello, Alice. How are you?”
“Nate, I was getting worried. I called the house but no one answered.”
Nate sighed. He and the kids could have been out for the afternoon or even just at the supermarket, and he refused to check in with her every time they left the house.
“Sorry, Alice. I didn’t hear it ringing. I’m out in the greenhouse.”
“Where are the girls?”
He resented the accusatory tone. Where did she think they were? “They’re in the playhouse. Gemmy and I are keeping an eye on them.”
“That’s good. You know if you’re busy, you can drop them off here anytime. Fred and I are always happy to see them.”
There were lots of things he’d like to say, but only one of them was polite. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”
“Did that person from the real estate company show up?”
Now they were getting to the real reason for her call. At least she’d called and not shown up unannounced as she often did. He never should have told her he was going to sell the house, especially since her constant interference was one of his reasons for wanting to move. He didn’t like the idea of being too far from the university, but his next house would be a lot farther than fourteen blocks from Alice and Fred’s.
“She’s taking a look at the house right now.”
“And you’re out in the greenhouse?”
“I wanted to keep Gemmy and the girls out of her way, so I brought them outside. Besides, she’s just deciding what needs to be done.” He didn’t have to be around for that.
“You should have asked us to help instead of spending good money to have someone else do this.”
Nate closed his eyes and, for several seconds, indulged in the idea of applying for a faculty position at another university. One on the other side of the country. Or maybe in a different country.
“There’s a house for sale down the street from us,” Alice said. “It would be perfect for you and the girls, and they’re having an open house on the weekend. You should come by and have a look.”
“That sounds…interesting.” Nate picked up a garden trowel and imagined stabbing himself in the head with it. Alice had lost her only child, he reminded himself, but that didn’t make it easy for him to rationalize her interference. After Heather died, Alice had transferred all of her attention to her granddaughters. Understandable,
