Taking on Twins (16 page)

Annie froze, listening for Wyatt's response.

“And how does this Sean kid know I kissed your mama?”

“I told him.”

“That so?”

“Yep.”

“So. When do you suppose Sean thinks I ought to ask her?”

“Pretty soon. You could do it right now, if you want to.”

“I thought I was supposed to read you a story now.”

“Oh. Yeah. Well, then, you can ask her tomorrow.”

“You'd like that?”

“Sure! Then you'd be our dad. We never had a dad before.”

“You had a dad, kiddo. He just had to go to heaven a little bit earlier than he'd planned. But he's still your dad.”

The boy's voice grew faint as he reached the top of the stairs and moved down the hall. “Well, then he can be our heaven dad, and you can be our real-life dad.”

“You have it all worked out, huh?”

“Yep.”

Blinking back the tears, Annie stretched plastic wrap over the pan of brownies, put it in the refrigerator, then wiped down the counter tops. More than anything, she wanted her children to know the security of a father's special brand of love. But not if it meant uprooting their life and making everyone unhappy in the process.

She was needed here in Keyhole. She had a mother to look after. Friends. Family. History. There was a business to run. A business that had been in the Summers family for generations.

Plus, the big city did not hold the allure it used to, when she was a kid. Unless she pictured that city as Wyatt's home. Then—she sighed and stared unseeing at her blurry reflection in the window—the thought of living in the city took on a whole new excitement.

But still. It wasn't just herself anymore. She had her boys to consider. MaryPat. Brynn. What was left of Carl's family.

Oh. Confusion made her head ache. She wadded up a pile of kitchen towels and cleaning rags and, moving to the service porch, started a load of laundry. Just last week her life had seemed so uncomplicated. Now everything was upside down. She had the strangest feeling that terminally snoopy Sean Mercury might just be right. What if Wyatt did indeed want to pick up where they left off so many years ago and marry her? Build a family with her? What then?

She pulled a load of whites out of the dryer and began to fold them on the top of the chest freezer, her mind clicking away like the keys on a computer.

Damn him.

She rolled pairs of socks together and fired them into a laundry basket. Damn him for waltzing back into her life and making her vulnerable all over again. It had taken her so long to recover from all the loss she'd suffered, and now, thanks to him, another loss hovered on the horizon.

If she decided to follow him, she lost her family.

If she sent him away, she lost her heart.

 

Laundry basket propped on her hip, Annie moved down the hall to her son's room. The deafening silence puzzled
her. She'd have thought that the sounds of space monsters on the loose would have been rattling the rafters by now. She set the basket on a marble-topped washstand and stepping to the doorway stopped and took in the scene before her.

Wyatt, far too long and lanky for Noah's kiddie bed, was leaning back against the headboard, his head cocked at an angle that would require a chiropractic team first thing in the morning. One leg was propped on the floor, the other on the footboard. His mouth hung slack and he snored ever so slightly. Her sons, one tucked under each of his arms, were also in dreamland, their heads rising and falling with his chest as he breathed. The book they'd been reading lay cockeyed on Wyatt's stomach.

Chopper was curled at the end of the bed, against Wyatt's leg.

Annie gripped the door frame and, as she gazed at the poignant scene before her, was filled with a strange combination of peace and melancholy. In just a few short days he would be leaving for Liza's wedding in Prosperino. After that, he might come back to check up on Emily, but surely, he couldn't stay. Just like her, he had a business to run. Friends. Family. A life of his own. A life she knew nothing about.

Swallowing back the myriad feelings that she was too tired at—she glanced at the Mickey clock on the nightstand—3:00 a.m. to sort out, Annie padded across the room. As promised, she bent and kissed all three of them on the forehead. Gently, she lifted the book and set it aside, then straightened the covers to better keep them all warm.

Wyatt shifted in his sleep, not disturbing the boys in the least as they all rolled over, a tangle of arms and legs. Chopper stood, circled twice, and fell back to the bed. Hand
over her mouth, Annie stood a while longer, watching and loving so hard, it hurt.

 

Over the next three days, Wyatt spent all of Emily's free time together with her at MaryPat's house. Sometimes, he could coax her out for a walk, or over to Annie's place, but emotionally, she was a bundle of nerves, starting at every loud noise and having trouble sleeping because of the nightmares. The only place she felt truly safe was at the café, she claimed. Wyatt wanted her to take some time off and get some rest, but Emily said that at least at work she didn't have time to dwell on the memory of the second attack.

Again, she'd been lucky and only suffered minor cuts and bruises as she'd scuffled with the man who she was positive had followed her to Keyhole from Prosperino. He, on the other hand, had been brutalized by her phone, a potted plant, a lawn chair and the business end of a golf umbrella.

Wyatt couldn't begin to find the words to describe the pride he felt in Emily. She was a scrapper. Even so, she needed protection.

Each day, after he'd seen Emily safely to work for her morning shift—and exacted promises from Roy, Geraldine and Helen that they wouldn't let her out of their sight until he could take her back to MaryPat's—Wyatt would wander next door and help Annie out at the shop.

In a very short amount of time he'd learned a great deal about antiques and, though his methods were slightly unorthodox, his sales record was impressive. Of course, being the type-A personality that he was, there was a friendly, not-so-subtle sales competition between him and Annie. And between him and MaryPat, when she would come in
for her part-time shifts. And between him and Brynn when she would pop in to relieve Annie for lunch.

That Thursday evening, Brynn dropped by as Wyatt, Annie and MaryPat tallied up their sales receipts. The boys shot Matchbox cars under their mother's desk while the adults worked. It was a drizzly spring day there in the little town of Keyhole and mist clung to the mountain tops and drifted between the trees. It was so incredibly beautiful here. As Wyatt stared out the window in Annie's office, he could understand so perfectly now why Joe had such blissful memories about his childhood years here in Wyoming. Though it was growing dark outside, inside Annie's cluttered office, it was bright and cheerful and cozy warm.

Wyatt shifted his gaze from the window to Annie's desktop, where he squinted at the tidy columns in her accounting book. Fingers flying over the ten key, she tallied their individual daily totals.

“I'm winning,” Wyatt bragged. “Brynn, I hate to say this, but I embarrassed you all over the place today.”

“Oh, no you didn't!”

“Yes indeedy.” He pointed to his column. “Read 'em and weep, sister.”

“Yeah, you think you're pretty tough, don't you? Well, after I sold that butter churn during lunch hour today,” Brynn boasted, “I went out and sold the old Cooper farm to a couple from L.A. It's been on the market for
five
years!”

“Butter churn? Big deal. And the Cooper farm doesn't count.” Wyatt waved a dismissive hand. “I sold an armoire and a dresser during lunch and still had time to eat sandwiches with Emma and the boys.”

A small smile played at Annie's lips as she listened to his silly banter with her mother and sister.

“I ate a whole one,” Noah bragged.

“So did I,” Alex put in.

“You didn't eat the crust,” Noah accused.

“Did too!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Boys, please. I'm trying to point out that I kicked your Aunt Brynn's butt today.”

“You did?” Noah asked, jaw slack.

“Where was I?” Alex wondered aloud.

Brynn planted her hands on her hips. “Did I mention that I also sold a hundred-year-old soup tureen?”

“Ooooo. I'm scared.”

Brynn blew a raspberry at him.

“Listen, sonny,” MaryPat warbled, “you sell a puny armoire and a dresser and you think that makes you somebody. Well, I'll have you know I sold two—count 'em, two—of those ugly Madrilla vases.”

Wyatt quirked a brow. “You did? Which ones?”

“That hideous yellow one with the pink and orange flowers and the green sort of art deco thing with the garish burros.”

“Get outta here! You sold those?”

“Before 9:00 a.m.” MaryPat huffed on her nails, then burnished them on her vest. “So, I ask you, who's number one?”

“You are. I'm definitely not worthy.”

Brynn and MaryPat hooted as he bowed down.

“Actually,” Annie said, “Wyatt comes in first with nearly three thousand dollars—”

Wyatt jumped up and jammed an imaginary basketball through an imaginary hoop. “He shoots, he scores!” His silly antics got the boys all riled up and they danced about at his feet, jabbering and laughing and pawing at his clothes.

“I wanna play basketball,” Noah screamed.

“Let's play!” Alex squealed.

Annie had to raise her voice to be heard above the hubbub. “I came in with nearly fifteen hundred. Mom, you did a little over five hundred, and, Brynn, you did two fifty. All in all, a blockbuster day. Thank you very much, you guys.”

“Yeah, well, tomorrow I'm gonna be the queen butt-kicker, buddy,” Brynn blustered at Wyatt.

“Oh, no, you're not.” Wyatt picked up the boys and began to gallop around the office.

“And why may I ask not?”

Wyatt stopped and let Noah slide to the floor. “Because I have to go back to California tomorrow morning.”

At this announcement the room went suddenly silent. Wyatt and Annie exchanged glances, then regarded the bewildered faces of the rest of her family with trepidation.

“You're leavin'?” Alex's voice quavered as he leaned back in Wyatt's arms and looked into his face.

“But you just got here,” Noah protested from where he clung to Wyatt's legs.

Brynn and MaryPat remained quiet but were obviously curious.

“I have to go to my cousin's wedding.”

“Do you hafta?”

“I'm afraid so, buddy.” Wyatt slowly lowered Alex to stand beside his brother.

Noah's eyes filled with tears. “But you can't go away. You kissed my mom.”

“And you still have to ask her to marry you.” Doing his best to remain stoic, Alex too, battled the tears. “Remember?”

Brynn and MaryPat looked at each other with wide-eyed expressions and Annie's hands flew to her face.

Another horrible, awkward moment of silence passed. Then the boys began to cry.

“I should probably get going.” Brynn reached for her purse and MaryPat, clearly sensing the tension, followed suit.

“Yes, me too. I'm going to have dinner at the café and then take Em home with me. Care to join me, Brynn?”

“Love to.”

Within the moments it took to share a flurry of kisses and knowing looks, they were gone, leaving Wyatt and Annie to deal with the boys' disappointment.

“You don't have to go, do ya?”

“Tell 'em you don't want to. Tell 'em you want to stay here. With us.”

Wyatt hunkered down, in order to be at eye-level with the boys. “That does sound really tempting, partner, but she's kinda countin' on me.”

“But so are we.” They moved into the circle of his embrace and, draping their skinny little arms over his shoulders, leaned against his sides.

Wyatt shot Annie a helpless glance which she answered in kind. The look of pure sorrow on their innocent faces tugged at his heartstrings and brought back all kinds of memories of abandonment. By the death grips they had on his shirt, Wyatt could feel the strong attachment they'd formed for him. Though he was not their father, somehow—in the accelerated five-year-old time and space continuum—he'd become a surrogate of sorts. A kind of uncle-daddy-buddy guy. And, as such, he knew he couldn't simply waltz off to Liza's wedding without somehow making the boys feel a little better.

But how?

He racked his brain for answers, but none were forthcoming. “I'm going to come back, just as soon as the wed
ding is over. I'll only be gone for the weekend. I'll be back Sunday afternoon and we can play and I can read you bedtime stories.”

By the expressions on their faces, Wyatt could see that this wasn't cutting it.

“Why don't we come with you?” Noah suggested.

“Yeah. That way you won't have time to miss us.”

Mind churning with the possibilities, Wyatt looked back and forth between the two boys. “You know,” he mused aloud, “that's not a half-bad idea.”

“Oh, no. I don't think—” Hands up, Annie took a step back and shook her head.

“But why not? There's plenty of room at the house and Liza would be thrilled. Trust me on this, if I show up with a date,
everyone
will be thrilled.”

“Who said anything about a date?” The tiniest trace of a smile crinkled at the corners of her eyes.

Sensing that there might be a chance, Wyatt pressed on. “Come on, Mom,” he cajoled, looking up at her with the same puppy-dog expression the boys wore, “give a guy a break. I don't want to be the only goofball there without a date.”

Alex sniffed.

Noah rubbed his eyes and a tentative smile flirted with his lips.

“He doesn't want to be a goofball, Mom.”

“Yeah, Mom. Without you, he'll seem stupid.”