His, Hers and...Theirs?. Judy Duarte
Kevin pointed to a photograph Eva had displayed on one of the sidewalls of her workspace.
Dan noted a smiling Eva, an elderly woman and a candle-laden birthday cake.
“That’s Clara Morrison,” Eva said. “She’s a friend of mine. We were celebrating her seventy-sixth birthday that day.”
“Wow,” the boy said. “That’s a lot of birthdays.”
“It sure is.” Eva reached into a drawer, pulled out a slide and slipped it into the microscope. “Here, let me show you what I do.” She peered through the lens, then stepped aside to let the boy take a peek.
“Ooh,” Kevin said. “I see a whole lot of little circles.”
“I want to see them, too.” Kaylee pressed against her brother. “Let me have a turn.”
Kevin moved away reluctantly, then let his sister peer into the microscope. She’d barely had a chance to ooh and ah herself when he said, “Come on, Kaylee. It’s my turn again.”
Dan was tempted to ask for a turn himself, but he was too caught up in watching Eva move through the lab or in trying to catch another hint of orange blossoms each time she brushed past him.
As it was, he stood off to the side and remained an observer, a role he usually slipped into whenever he left the ranch. But not because he was shy or awkward. He just didn’t open up around people he didn’t know or trust.
Yet as he watched Eva blossom in her natural surroundings, her amber eyes brightening as she spoke to the kids, her tone soft and maternal, he couldn’t help lowering his guard just a bit.
And looking forward to having dinner with her.
Dan figured the Burger Barn was their best choice for a meal, and the minute he stepped inside the family-style restaurant, he realized he’d been right. He placed their orders, then with Eva’s help, carried their food and drinks on trays to the dining area.
“I’m not hungry anymore,” Kevin said the minute he spied the colorful, indoor climbing structure that was designed to look like a big red barn with a yellow silo and blue netting.
“Not so fast, sport.” Dan unloaded the drinks, burgers and fries onto the white Formica table. “You need to eat first, while everything is warm. You’ll have plenty of time to play when you’re done.”
“Oh, okay,” the boy said, plopping into one of the white seats covered with a built-in blue vinyl cushion. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of Matchbox race cars and a Star Wars action figure.
A few minutes later, both kids had wolfed down their kiddie meals and had finished their milk.
“See?” Dan said. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
Without answering, the twins dashed off, leaving Dan and Eva to munch on their burgers and fries.
“Kaylee seems to be doing a lot better,” Eva said.
Dan agreed. She’d been a real chatterbox at dinner, opening up for Eva more than she had for him in the past two weeks. And he had no choice but to attribute the change to the attractive woman seated across from him.
As he caught Eva’s gaze, she leaned forward and lowered her voice. “So, where’s their father?”
Before Dan could respond, Kevin slipped back to the table to pick up the little toys he’d left behind and said, “Our daddy’s in New York.”
Kaylee, who’d returned on her brother’s heels, added, “He’s rich and has a great big car.”
“Yeah,” her brother chimed in, “but we don’t get to ride in it. He’s too busy.”
“He’s always busy,” Kaylee said. “That’s why we never get to see him.”
Eva glanced down at the half-eaten bag of fries resting in front of her, then back at the child. But she let the conversation drop.
When the kids took off again, she blew out a sigh, leaned forward and rested her forearms on the table. “I didn’t mean to pry. Or to bring that up in front of them.”
“I know. I thought they were out of hearing range, too.”
“I take it their father isn’t very involved in their lives.”
“No, he isn’t.” Dan didn’t want to go into all the details. When he’d found out his sister was dating a married man, he’d told her how disappointed he’d been in her. She’d tried to explain that she hadn’t known at first, that the guy had kept it from her. And that when she’d told him that she was pregnant, he’d finally confessed.
Dan had tried to talk her into moving back home, but she’d refused. He’d never understood her need to move away from Brighton Valley in the first place, never understood her dreams.
After that, she’d been pretty tight-lipped about the kids and her personal life. But he’d never been one to keep quiet and had continued to let her know that he believed children should be raised in a loving, two-parent home. And that maybe they should be raised closer to family. But there was no need to go into any of that with Eva.
“Their dad has never really been a part of their lives,” Dan said instead.
“That’s too bad. They’re cute kids.”
“It’s their old man’s loss, I guess.” He’d tried to tell himself that they were probably better off without him, which is what Jenny had insisted.
And maybe she’d been right.
All Dan really knew about Daddy Warbucks was that he was some Broadway bigwig who’d paid only a token amount of child support. And that Jenny hadn’t wanted to make trouble for him by asking for more money. At least, that’s what Catherine, her roommate, had said.
Dan opened a small bag of ketchup and squeezed a splotch onto his fries. He wasn’t going to reveal more than he already had to Eva. It didn’t seem fair to the twins—or to Jenny’s memory. Still, he would have liked to have been able to say that his sister had known better than to get involved in a situation like that, but obviously she hadn’t.
“I think kids ought to be raised by people who want them,” he said.
“So do I. And I’m glad they have you.”
Dan sure as hell wanted to do right by them. He’d feed them, clothe them and educate them by sending them off to college or trade school. But no one knew more than he did that kids needed love and affection, too, and he was afraid he’d fall short in that department.
“When did your sister die?” Eva asked.
“About six months ago.”
“And you’ve had the kids all that time?”
“No, they just moved in with me a couple of weeks ago.”
If Eva wondered why that was, she didn’t ask. But for the damnedest reason, Dan felt compelled to explain. “After the funeral, my sister’s roommate, Catherine, suggested that they stay with her. And it seemed like a good idea to me. They hardly knew me. I’d only seen them once—when they were three. My sister came for a visit, but she didn’t stay long.”
They’d argued, as they were prone to do, and she’d left earlier than she’d planned.
Eva remained silent, but seemed to be hanging on his words. Her eyes asked, And you agreed to leave them in New York with a stranger?
“The only other option I had at the time was to take them away from their comfort zone and drag them back to Texas to live on the ranch with me, and, like I said, they didn’t know me very well.” He didn’t mention Uncle Hank, who’d finished raising Dan and his sister, Jenny, when they’d had nowhere else to go. The crotchety old cowboy meant well, but he spent the bulk of his day grumbling about his lot in life.
“How