Six Hot Single Dads. Lynne Marshall
put dress-up clothes in the blue boxes and our clothes in the red boxes,” Molly said.
“And stuffies in the yellow boxes,” Martha tried unsuccessfully to push the overflow of stuffed animals beneath the rim. “Just like Kristi told us.”
“Who won the race?” he asked.
“We both did. Kristi said.”
He finally allowed himself to make eye contact with the woman who had accomplished more in half an hour, by simply turning work into a game, than he could have managed in a whole week of cajoling. “Thank you.”
Her smile, so genuine, made it hard to believe she was the same woman who had called him a deadbeat earlier that morning.
“You’re welcome. They’re good workers. I might have to hire them as my assistants.” She tweaked their pigtails, and they both giggled. “And now they each get a cupcake at lunchtime, as long as that’s okay with you. I have some out in my van.”
“Sure. I got everything I need to make hot dogs, too.” And since she had offered dessert, it would be rude not to include her. “You’re welcome to join us.”
“Yay! Hot dogs!”
“Yay! Cupcakes!”
“We found our coloring books.” Molly pointed to their little table. “I’m going to color.”
“Me, too.” Martha settled onto one of the chairs.
“I’d like to talk to your dad about his office,” Kristi said.
The girls, already intent on choosing crayons, didn’t respond.
She slipped out of the room and he followed her across the hall.
“That’s pretty amazing,” he said. “What you got them to do in there.”
“I think they had fun.” She consulted several lists on a page in her notebook. “I have some suggestions to help you streamline the things in their room, but first I’d like to go over my ideas for your office.”
He would like to go over her idea that he was a deadbeat, but bringing it up now didn’t feel right, and he wasn’t ready to hear what she had to say anyway. Instead he listened as she outlined her plan, and then indicated the bundle of flattened boxes that he could assemble and use to sort and store papers. She showed him the paint color she had in mind, and he agreed it would be an improvement over the blue. He had never liked it anyway. And he was fine to get rid of the wallpaper.
She pulled a small pocket knife from her bag—was there anything she didn’t have in there? he wondered—and cut the strap on the bundle of boxes. “We might as well assemble these while we talk.”
That was fine with him. He watched her turn one of the neatly folded pieces into a box with a lid, and followed her lead.
“If you’re okay with the colors, I’ll order the paint this afternoon. For the master bedroom, I’d like to use a similar green but a few shades darker. It’ll be a little more dramatic. The off-white in the fourth bedroom is nice and neutral so I’ll leave it and bring in some green accessories to tie everything together.”
“It all sounds good.”
“I have a meeting with my business partners first thing tomorrow morning. After that our carpenter will drop by and measure for the new bookshelves in here. I have some ideas for organizing your daughters’ room, too.”
Between them they had assembled five boxes and she was still folding.
“I was also wondering how you feel about putting some of their things in storage. After the house is listed and being shown, I think it’ll be easier for you…and them…if there’s less stuff for you to manage.”
He had only thought of moving as a way to get distance from his in-laws, but now he could see that streamlining their belongings would really streamline their lives. Across the hall, Molly and Martha sat happily coloring at a table that had always been buried beneath clutter. How had he let that happen?
“Putting things in storage is a good idea. My sister keeps giving them dress-up clothes, and some of their own clothes are getting too small. And every time they see their grandparents, we add two more stuffed animals to the zoo.”
She smiled. “Could you ask them to hold off on that for now? At least until you’ve moved?”
“Of course.” He should have asked them to stop a long time ago.
“For things that don’t fit anymore, I know a great consignment store that takes good-quality children’s clothes, and I can also arrange to donate things to charity.”
“You don’t mind doing that?” He wished he could stay annoyed with her, but she was so patient, and so helpful, and she smelled so damned good.
“I don’t mind at all. It’s actually part of my job.”
“Well, I still appreciate it.” And in spite of what she thought of him, he was glad she was willing to go to his sister’s party weekend. “I talked to my mother again, and there’s one minor change in plans.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“There’s a family brunch on Sunday. I hope you don’t mind going to that, too. I didn’t know how to say no.”
Instead of being annoyed, she laughed. “If they’re anything like my family, saying no isn’t easy.”
“So you don’t mind?”
She added another box to the pile. “Is your mom a good cook?”
“She’s a great cook.”
“Then I don’t mind at all.” Instead of looking at him, she pulled a black marker from her bag and handed it to him. “This should be enough boxes to get you started, and you can use this to label them. I also brought in a blue bin for recycling. I’ll let you get started while I go order the paint. And then, if you’d like, I’ll help you make lunch.”
“I’d like that.” She was being so nice. Had he misunderstood what she’d said on the phone? Did it matter? She had also said “no strings attached.” No matter how nice she was and how great she smelled, she was absolutely right, and he’d better not let himself forget it.
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