When Mom Meets Dad (3 page)

Because of what had happened, he didn't know if she still wanted his help with Career Day.  But apparently the lady didn't get sidetracked from her goal.

He pressed the button for line two and picked up the receiver.  "Hello, Amanda."

"Good morning, Mr. Woodsides.  I..."

"After Saturday night, don't you think we can use first names?"  Formality and his reaction to Amanda didn't seem to go together.

The few moments of silence on her end told him he'd surprised her.  Finally, she said, "I suppose it's not every day I let a man latch me into a rescue harness."

Alex laughed.  "Facing a life and death experience changes the rules."

"Even though I acted like it, I don't think the situation was quite that serious.  And I do remember you saying you'll consider heading up Career Day."

She obviously didn't want to talk about Saturday night...or the kiss.  "I did say that," he agreed, wanting to keep a connection to her, realizing he'd decided to work on the program for more reasons than educating his daughter.  "Could the committee meet at my house one evening this week?  We could get started."

"You've thought about this."

"Some.  I'll have my secretary type up an agenda so we'll know exactly where we're going and e-mail it to you.  Would Wednesday night suit you?  Seven thirty?"

"That's fine," she said, sounding pleased...or maybe just relieved.  "I'll call Mrs. Webb and Mr. Davidson," she added.  "Thank you for volunteering, Alex.  I'll see you Wednesday."

"Wednesday, it is.  Good-bye, Amanda."

Alex replaced the receiver, wondering if when he saw her, she'd still pretend his kiss never happened.  Even if she pretended, should he?

***

An interior designer had decorated Alex's house, Amanda thought, as she noted the perfect placement of the landscape paintings--probably originals--the exact precision of the stenciled border with its wine and green geometric design, and the coordinated loveseat, sofa and chair that were too fine to come from a discount showroom.  Everything about Alex Woodsides was Class A quality, and he scared her to death.  Or rather the way she felt when she was around him did.  That kiss...

That kiss belonged in the pigeon hole where she'd stuffed it.  It had been simply a brushing of lips.  It had been an overreaction to the situation.  Apparently in a crisis, she froze.  Alex kissed.  It made perfect sense.  That's why she hadn't mentioned it and neither had he.

So why was it that as he handed each one of the committee an outline of his ideas, her gaze fell to his lips?  And as Mrs. Webb argued with him about how to organize the day, Amanda could only think about how his arm had felt around her, the male scent of him, the heat his hard body generated.

"Don't you think so, Amanda?" Mrs. Webb asked.

The older teacher had caught her not paying attention.  Not only did Mrs. Webb not appreciate Amanda's interactive teaching strategies, she was constantly critical and condescending.

Trying to remember the last thing she'd heard, Amanda bluffed, "I think Alex's ideas are right on the mark."

"Yes, of course they are, dear.  But we're discussing how many role models for the children we should bring in," the older woman reminded her.

"I suggested thirty."  Alex's green eyes twinkled and Amanda had the strange sensation he'd known exactly what she'd been thinking about.

"That would be great if you can get thirty," Amanda agreed quickly.

"You young people think it's easy to keep students attention.  These speakers will need to do more than talk to them."

"We'll have equipment available to them for presentations.  The smart boards in the classrooms will be an advantage, too, if they want to use them," Matt Davidson, the principal of Cedar Grove Elementary offered diplomatically.

Amanda knew Mrs. Webb used her "smart" board as little as possible. 

The telephone rang on the other side of the room.  When it didn't ring again, Amanda guessed Kristy must have answered it upstairs or else his answering service had taken the call.

"Dad, it's for you.  It's Grandma," Kristy called from the winding wooden staircase near the foyer.

"Got it," he called back and, after excusing himself, strode to the library table beside the double window.

Though she tried to keep her mind on the interchange between Mrs. Webb and Matt, her gaze followed Alex.  His conversation lasted a few minutes and he looked disconcerted as he hung up.

When he returned to the group, he said, "I think that's all we can cover tonight.  Think about the suggestions I made, and we'll get together again in a few weeks.  How about Sunday, July second at one?"

Amanda was beginning to realize Alex was a take-charge kind of man...like her ex-husband who set up the game and expected everyone to play by his rules.  Well, she couldn't buck a volunteer with good ideas, but she could make sure he understood this was a committee, not a dictatorship.

"July second might not be good for everyone," she offered.  "You know, with the holiday and all."

Alex looked nonplussed.  "Mrs. Webb?  Matt?  Is there a problem?"

Both of them shook their heads.

With a probing stare, Alex turned his attention to her, and she almost forgot she had a point to make.  But then she remembered.  "I...uh...two would be better for me," she managed, her gaze again finding his lips as if inexorably drawn to them.

"Two it is," Alex agreed.  He gestured to the dining room.  "I set up coffee and cookies if you're interested."

"Bake them yourself, Mr. Woodsides?" Mrs. Webb wanted to know.

"Since we'll be working together, please call me Alex," he said to the older teacher with a disarming smile.  "My secretary picked up the cookies at the bakery for me.  But I did brew the coffee.  Help yourselves."

Clara Webb and Matt headed for the dining room.  But before Amanda could pass Alex, he caught her arm.  "You seem preoccupied tonight."

She'd learned over the past few years it was better to take the offensive rather than be on the defensive.  "No more than you after your call.  It was Kristy's grandmother?"  The nine-year-old often talked about the good times she had with her grandparents.

Dropping his hand from her arm and rubbing the back of his neck, Alex said, "Dad and Mom received an invitation from friends in Florida.  They're leaving at the end of the week.  For three weeks."

Immediately Amanda understood.  "So you have no one to keep Kristy."

"I'm going to have to call a professional agency, I guess, in Camp Hill.  I'll have to interview women tomorrow."

Camp Hill, much larger than Cedar Grove, had everything from shopping malls to professional agencies not found in their small town.  "Don't be ridiculous," Amanda found herself saying.  "Kristy's welcome to spend her days with Heather.  You don't want her staying with a stranger, do you?"

"Of course, I don't.  But I can't ask you to care for my daughter."

"You're not asking.  I'm offering.  Maybe I just feel guilty because Heather always wanted a sister and she's found that kind of relationship with Kristy.  She's really no bother, Alex.  And I can begin tutoring sessions."

"I'll pay you," he decided after thinking about it for a few moments.

"You will not!"  

He scowled and studied her.  When she didn't back down, the scowl disappeared, though his expression was still serious. "If you won't accept payment, you have to promise me something." 

Her heart beat fast and she wondered how much promises meant to Alex because they meant a whole lot to her.  "What?"

"If you ever need legal counsel, you'll come to me.  No charge."

That was an easy promise to keep.  She extended her hand.  "It's a deal."

When Alex clasped her fingers, tingles danced up her arm.  She felt calluses, signifying the fact he didn't spend all of his time behind a desk.  Liking the feel of his skin against hers just a little too much, remembering his lips on hers, she pulled away.

Footsteps on the staircase enabled her to turn her attention away from Alex.

"Meeting over?" Heather asked as she came up beside her mother.

"What did Grandma want?" Kristy asked, before Amanda could answer.

Alex smiled at both girls.  "The meeting is over, and Grandma and Grandad are going to Florida.  But Mrs. Carson said you can stay with Heather during the day if you'd like until they get back."

"Cool!  When are they leaving?" Kristy asked with a grin that stretched from one side of her face to the other.

"Friday morning.  Is that all right, Amanda?  About eight thirty?"

"Eight thirty is fine.  And Kristy, bring your bathing suit.  We'll go swimming in the afternoon."

Kristy looked up at Alex.  "I'm gonna like this, Dad."

As Alex's gaze settled back on Amanda, thanking her, unsettling her, she decided she'd take Kristy under her wing, but her father was an entirely different matter.  She'd keep her distance no matter how close their daughters became.

***

Suppertime came and went on Friday with Amanda checking the clock every fifteen minutes.  Alex still hadn't arrived to pick up Kristy and it was after seven thirty!  If she had his cell number, she would have called him.  But she hadn't thought to ask.  Never expected him to be this late.

Because Alex's presence put her in a tailspin, no matter how much she'd like to deny it, she'd forgotten to ask him what time he usually finished his work day.  As the time had slipped by and Alex hadn't arrived, she'd made hamburgers on the grill.  Thoughtlessness had been one of her ex-husband's major flaws along with his need to control.  With a cell phone at hand and convenient and Alex not bothering to call, it looked as if he belonged in the same category.

She wasn't disappointed, she told herself, as she squeezed lemons to make a pitcher of lemonade.

She was plucking the seeds from the lemon juice when a sharp rap at the back door startled her.  A second later, Alex stood in her kitchen.

"Sorry I'm late," he said with a crooked smile that she guessed was supposed to make up for his lack of consideration.

"And just how late are you?"

The tone of her voice made him frown.  "I had an appointment with a couple working out a divorce settlement.  It got complicated."

"Too complicated for you to call?"

"As a matter of fact, it was.  I didn't want them going for each other's throats.  And if I had excused myself to phone, I was afraid my client's husband's attorney would take advantage of my absence.  Is there a problem?"

"Yes.  You didn't tell me you'd be this late."

He looked around the kitchen, then at her attire--an old pair of shorts and a many-times washed top, and asked, "You had plans?"

"That's not the point.  Did you ever think Kristy might be worried?"

"She knows I sometimes work irregular hours.  She's used to it.  I hope you didn't put irrational fears in her head."

"Of course, I didn't.  But here on out, if you want Kristy to stay here, I expect a call if you're going to be late."

"Maybe you should reconsider your offer," he replied, his jaw tense, his attitude suggesting no one was going to tell him what to do.

How had she gotten mixed up in this anyway?  Because she'd wanted to be nice?  Her niceness had encouraged her to believe her husband when he'd said he was going away on business, and it had also led her to accept his long work hours and minimal nights of intimacy.  "Nice" meant not rocking the boat.  It meant not arguing.  It meant being taken advantage of.

"Maybe I should reconsider."  Wiping her hand on towel, she said, "I'll tell Kristy you're here."

As she went through the doorway to the living room, she realized Kristy and Heather were sitting on the floor, playing a game they'd set up on the coffee table.  She hoped they hadn't heard the exchange in the kitchen.  It would be up to Alex to decide where his daughter would stay.

***

"They were mad," Kristy said into the phone in a hushed voice on Saturday morning, worrying that her plan and Heather's to become real sisters might have gotten derailed.  "I think Dad's looking for somewhere else for me to go."

Ever since Heather had moved to Cedar Grove last summer they'd been soul-mates.  She didn't want to stay anywhere else, and she wanted to see her dad and Mrs. Carson looking at each other like they had the night they were stuck on the Ferris wheel.

"Mom hasn't said anything," Heather responded to her friend's anxious tone.  "All we have to do is get them in the same place again.  They like each other.  I can tell.  And I've told her how your dad takes you horseback riding and skating, and he's home every night.  My dad was never around. Sometimes, he didn't even remember my birthday!  Mom sent me a Christmas card last year with his name on it.  She thinks I couldn't tell.  But I could.  I'd love having your father for a real dad."

"And I'd love to have your mom for a real mom.  I've never had one."  She and Heather had talked often about being sisters and having two parents.  With determination, Kristy added, "Your mom knows I want to be with you.  Just tell her that again.  And I'll tell Dad again what a great time I had with you and your mom."

"Can you come over today?" Heather asked.

"Nope.  We're going over to Grandma's to check the house and water the plants, then Dad said something about driving to the mountains.  But tomorrow I can get him to take me swimming.  How about you?"

"No problem."

"Just look for the orange towel.  If it rains, I'll call you and we'll think of something else.  We'll fix it.  We'll get them liking each other again."

***

Half of the population of Cedar Grove seemed to gather at the community pool on hot Sunday afternoons.  Amanda and Heather emerged from the women's dressing area, their duffel bags in hand, and looked for a spot to sunbathe.

Heather pointed to a narrow area of grass next to an orange towel.  "Over there, Mom."  After she ran ahead, she plopped down her bag and spread out her towel.

Amanda threaded her way across the grass with more care than Heather.  Dropping her duffel bag, she flicked open her towel to lay edge to edge with her daughter's.