For the Sake of the Children. Cynthia Reese
He’d forgotten what wonderful music their giggles made.
Patrick found Melanie and Lissa in an argument, carried on in low hisses at the sink.
“Like you really forgot to tell Dad some woman had called. And to invite her here when you were aware it was Dad’s birthday.”
“She’s nice, Melanie! What’s the problem?”
“The problem is you’re up to something, and I know it, Lissa, so don’t—”
“You never believe me, so why should I bother saying anything at all? I forgot. Take it or leave it.”
“Girls.” At Patrick’s voice, they jumped guiltily. “We have a guest. One whom one of you invited.”
“Not me. Dad, you’re not going to start dating her, are you? I mean, she has a…” Melanie bit her lip.
Lissa put her hands on her hips. “Say it. You can say it. The world won’t end if you do. She has a child.”
The corners of Melanie’s mouth turned down. “That’s rather obvious. Did you know that when you invited her to party-crash?”
“No. But I sure would have invited her if I had. Because I just love to watch you wig out. You still haven’t gotten over Mom having Christopher and he’s six now,” Lissa said.
Melanie blanched at Lissa’s second mention of their stepbrother. “That’s—I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Girls. Enough.” Patrick glanced behind him to make sure Dana and Kate hadn’t left the dining room, then spoke in a low voice. “Let’s not fight on my birthday, especially when we have a guest. And Melanie, I’ve barely met the woman. Of course I’m not dating her. If I were, though, it’s my business.”
Melanie rolled her eyes at Lissa’s triumphant little “Yes!” complete with dragged-down fist gesture.
“You think you want this, but you don’t have a clue, do you? You don’t care about anybody but you. You’ve completely ruined Dad’s birthday, all because you’re a drama queen,” Melanie said.
After Patrick shot her a warning look, she waved away whatever else she was going to add. “Okay, okay. I won’t say any more. You deal with Lissa.”
“Later. And that’s a promise, Lissa.” He set his plate on the countertop. “Right now, I’m going to attempt to be a good host.”
When he returned to the dining room, Kate was cleaned up and Dana was gathering her things. “I am so sorry to have interrupted this night. I should have thought things through and waited until Monday.”
Patrick curled his fingers around the woodwork on the dining room chair. “You said something about the asthma tests. So what’s on your mind?”
“I should go. It’ll keep—I am so sorry.”
“No problem. We enjoyed having you.”
Dana didn’t seem at all convinced by his words, and he had to admit they sounded insincere. He tried again. “Lissa enjoyed having you guys here tonight, and I’m grateful for that. She’s at a…well, a difficult age.”
Dana’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yes. I’m glad to be of service. Now, I’ll get out of your hair and be on my way, and perhaps we can talk about this on Monday.”
“Talk about what? You never did tell me precisely,” he pointed out.
She stopped in the middle of stuffing some child gear into her oversize purse. “The asthmatic kids. The mold. Why didn’t you tell me about the mold?”
Her accusatory question caught him as off guard as Kate’s rendition of “Happy Birthday” had. Patrick rubbed at his eyes, struggling to figure out how to respond.
“I thought Vann—” No. That was a lie. He knew Vann well enough to realize that Vann wouldn’t have immediately offered up that information without asking him first.
“Yes?” Now her tone had an edge to it, cool and crisp.
“We should have. I should have. I’m sorry.”
“Is this a cover-up? Am I part of a bean-counting process?”
“No! No, of course not. We’re just trying to do due diligence—”
“If you’re trying to do due diligence, how about getting in professionals to eliminate the mold? Instead of tackling a job that’s beyond an amateur’s scope,” she added equably.
“Can I take you up on that offer to talk about this Monday? Because I am not up to it tonight. Consider it a birthday gift.” Patrick added that last bit as a joke, but it fell flat.
Dana scooped up Kate and slung the strap of her bag over her shoulder. “Fine. You know where to find me. I’ll be the one spending two hours every morning and two hours every afternoon doing useless asthma tests that don’t really tell you much of anything.”
She marched to the front door. Patrick followed her out, down the steps and to her car.
“Listen, if you want, we can talk about this now.”
“No, you’re right. I need a weekend to cool off.”
He took a step back. “Sure. Then okay. I’ll talk to you Monday. It was…nice having you here tonight. You and, um, Kate.”
He hadn’t intended to say those last words and he wasn’t sure where the sentiment had come from.
The words had the effect of arresting Dana as she put a sleepy Kate into her car seat. “If you mean that, then I’m glad.”
She slid behind the wheel of her car, gave him a brief, inscrutable smile and backed around.
Leaving Patrick standing there, wondering, had he meant what he’d said? And what if he had?
CHAPTER FIVE
T HE FIRST THINGS that greeted Patrick when he stopped in Dana’s clinic on Monday morning were a Christmas wreath on the door and a picture of Kate and Dana, prominently displayed on Dana’s spick-and-span desk. He lifted his gaze from the photo to see Dana’s cool expression. Her message could not be clearer had she shouted it from the rooftops: I’m a package deal .
Or maybe that was just him, not her at all. Maybe she didn’t even think about him as date material and she was simply pissed about the mold.
Dana didn’t spare him much of a glance as she finished up with a freckle-faced kid. She jotted down some numbers in a file and tapped on her keyboard to enter the same numbers into an Excel spreadsheet—his spreadsheet, he realized, the one that he’d devised to track all the asthmatic kids. “Okay, you’re good.”
“So why do I have to stop by here every day?” the boy asked. “My asthma’s not bad. I haven’t had an attack in, like, ages. This is embarrassing!”
“Uh…” Dana shrugged. “Beats me, kiddo. I just do what they tell me to do. It’s probably for tracking purposes.”
“Oh. Okay. But can you tell ’em that the other kids tease me? And I promise I’ll come if I need to, but I’ve got my inhaler.”
Dana fixed an eye on Patrick but continued to address the boy. “Don’t worry. I’ll tell ’em.”
The boy left. Once the door shut behind him, the silence in the room stretched to the breaking point. Patrick cleared his throat and leaned against the clinic counter.
“So. You wanted to talk. I’m here.”
“Thank you. I know you said the other nurse did this, but already I’m getting huge complaints from the teachers and the parents about pulling their kids out of class. The asthma kids.”
Patrick considered. He’d never heard complaints about how