Small-Town Dad by Jean C. Gordon

Author:Jean C. Gordon
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2012-09-01T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

The honking of more migrating geese on the pond woke her from the sleep that had finally come in the early hours of the morning. Sleep that had come only after she’d made a decision. Lulled by the dimly lit room, Anne assumed it was still early until she looked at the alarm clock. Ten o’clock. She hadn’t slept this late since college. She rolled out of bed and pulled the curtain aside. A gray dismal New England morning greeted her. She shook off the gloom, dressed and went downstairs. The low rumble of Neal’s voice and the smell of coffee drew her to the kitchen.

“Good morning, sleepy-head.” Neal turned from the sink where Ian stood on a step stool beside him.

The rightness of the picture they made sent a ripple of apprehension through her.

“Seepy-head.” Ian echoed. “I washing dishes.” He lifted a blue plastic cup covered in bubbles.

“So I see. Do you have a coffee cup for me?”

Ian poured the water from the cup into the sink. “Nope.”

“Here you go.” Neal handed her a mug and spoon from the dishwasher.

“Thanks.” She made a cup of coffee in Margaret’s gourmet single-cup coffee brewer, carried it across the room and added exactly a half teaspoon of sugar from the bowl on the table. “Where’s Margaret?”

Neal guided Ian’s hand and another cupful of water back over the sink. “Doctor’s appointment.”

“She should have said something yesterday. I would have driven her.”

“Maria, her housekeeper, drove her.”

“Good. I know Maria. She’s been with Margaret a long time, since Reenie and I were in college.”

“Ria and Ian make cookies.” The toddler climbed down and pushed the stool toward the other end of the counter.

“Whoa, buddy. What’s up?”

“Cookies.” He pointed at a ceramic Pooh Bear. “For Nee Nee.”

Anne checked Neal’s expression before she nodded. Her first inclination had been to say no. As a child, she’d only gotten treats when her parents judged she’d earned them. Neal’s indulgent half smile changed her mind and bolstered her confidence that she’d made the right decision.

“Okay. I’ll get some cookies for Aunt Annie and you.”

“Nal, too.”

“Me, too.” Neal lifted Pooh’s head and pulled out three cookies. “In your seat, buddy.” He handed the cookies to Anne on a napkin and put Ian in his booster seat. Anne and Neal sat beside him.

Anne handed a cookie to Ian and Neal.

“Thanks.”

“Tanks.” Ian bit into the treat and grinned his mother’s grin, crumbs falling to the table in front of him.

Anne dropped her gaze and took a big swig of her coffee to quell the sadness and longing inside her.

“Hello.” A bright voice pulled her from her self-absorbed gloom.

Margaret’s neighbor’s daughter, Jessica, breezed into the kitchen. “Is Ian all ready for story hour?”

Neal used the napkin to wipe the cookie crumbs from Ian’s face and hands, slipped his plastic smock off and rolled down his shirtsleeves. “All set.” He lifted the toddler to the floor.

Jessica took Ian’s hand.

“Wait.” Anne’s strident tone stopped the duo in their tracks. “Who’s driving?”

The teen’s forehead wrinkled.

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