Firefighter Daddy (12 page)

Jess rolled her eyes.

Rory pointed to her bedroom. “No more arguments. Hurry up and change so we can get going.”

“Anyone ever tell you that you sound
exactly
like your mother when you get all bossy like this?” Jess asked as she disappeared into the bedroom.

Yes, she’d heard it. More than once. Maybe that was why she had so much trouble with relationships.

In less than two minutes Jess was back. The jeans had been replaced by a knee-length denim skirt, the sneakers with a pair of black flip-flops. The yellow T-shirt worked but the man-shirt didn’t.

Pick your battles,
Rory thought.
That
was always her mother’s advice, and if anyone knew how to pick a battle, it was her mother.

“Where are we going?” Jess asked once they were in the van and underway.

“Downtown. A couple of my favorite shoe stores are having great sales right now.”

“A downtown shoe store doesn’t sound like a place I can afford.”

“If we don’t find anything there, we’ll check the department stores.” There was no point in reminding her that Nicola had offered to pay for the shoes, because Jess had flatly refused. No handouts for her.

“I also have a surprise for you.” If she told her about the pedicure, Jess would come up with a million excuses not to go. For the same reason, Rory had also decided it was best not to mention lingerie until they were actually in the store.

“Am I going to like this surprise?”

Rory stopped at a red light. “Who doesn’t love a surprise?”

“Remember what Nic said about her shower? She doesn’t like surprises, and neither do I.”

Rory laughed. “Right. You and Nic are like two peas in a pod.”

Jess leaned back in her seat and laughed, too. Of the five of them, Nicola and Jess were polar opposites. “Okay, fine. Surprise me.”

The light turned green and, as Rory eased off the clutch, the van lurched into the intersection.

“I think Vanna needs a new clutch,” Rory said.

“I think Rory needs a new van.” Jess hastily patted the dashboard. “No offense.”

“We both know you didn’t mean it.”

“So, other than planning to torture me today, what else have you been up to?”

Where to start? Looking after Miranda? Kissing Mitch? She wasn’t ready to talk about either. The phone call from her father?
That
she needed to talk about, and Jess was not only a good listener, she kept things to herself.

“My dad called this morning. He says hello.”

“Cool. I’m sorry I missed him when he was in town. How is he?”

“To be honest, I’m not sure. I mean, he seemed fine when he was here, but we had a weird conversation this morning.”

“In what way?”

“I told you that he came to the opening of my mother’s art exhibit, didn’t I?” Rory turned on the left-turn signal, remembered that it wasn’t working, and quickly rolled down the window and stuck out her arm.

“With the ditzy girlfriend. You mentioned it when you called to remind me we were going shopping.”

“I didn’t say she was ditzy.”

“Was she?”

Rory sighed. Dayzee had seemed more scatterbrained than most. “I’m afraid so.”

“No offense, but your dad’s girlfriends are
always
ditzy.”

“I know. That’s not what his phone call was about, though. Not really. He told me…” A little thrill of anticipation shivered through her. She’d given up any hope of her parents reconciling years ago. Rekindling that dream now would be childish, foolish.

“What? What did he say?”

“He’s still in love with my mother.”

Jess’s exhale came out as long, low whistle. “Wow. He told you that?”

Rory geared down as she slowed for another red light. “Yes.”

“Wow. Out of the blue, your father unloads that juicy bit of info. How did your mother react?”

“He asked me not to say anything to her.”

“Okay, that
is
weird. Why tell you and not your mother?”

Good question. “He thinks he’s responsible for my attitude about marriage and kids.”

“From everything you’ve told me, he kind of is. He and your mom, that is.”

Jess was right, but it didn’t seem fair to unload all the blame on them. “Marriage isn’t for everyone. I’m perfectly happy, I have a job I love, great friends, I get to spend my summers traveling.”

“But?”

“There’s no but.”

“Oh, yes, there is. Something must be going on for your dad to suddenly be all worried about you and confessing that he’s still in love with your mom after all this time.”

Rory pretended to concentrate on driving. “Man, there’s a lot of traffic, even for a Saturday.”

“So, I’m right.”

“About what?”

“About whatever it is that’s got your dad wanting you to reconsider your aversion to long-term relationships. Spill it.”

How much could she say without giving Jess the wrong idea about her and Mitch? “I invited my landlady and her son—”

“The super-hot firefighter?”

Rory shot her a quick warning glance.

“Keep talking. I’m listening. Just think of me as your favorite friendly bartender. Kind of like a shrink, only free.” Jess grinned and made a zipping motion across her mouth.

“My landlady, her son and his little girl came to my mom’s opening at the gallery. My dad seems to think something’s going on between us.”

“Between you and the super-hot… Sorry. Between you and the firefighter?”

Rory pulled into a parking garage and maneuvered the van into a spot. “His name is Mitch.”

“Is your dad right?”

“No.” Not really.

“Ha. I don’t believe you.”

“Why not?” Rory took the keys out of the ignition and stowed them in her handbag.

Jess’s scrutiny was intense. “Have you seen Mitch since the gallery?”

Rory felt her face go warm.

“So something
is
going on.”

“Nothing’s going on. I looked after Miranda—his daughter—last night. That’s all.”

“You’re babysitting for this guy?”

“No. Not for him. He wasn’t home and his mother had to go out, so she asked me to keep an eye on her.”

“Who came home first?”

Rory’s face heated up some more. Damn. “What do you mean?”

“Were you still there when he came home?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Jess laughed. “There’s my answer, and here’s my diagnosis. Your dad’s right. You’ve got it bad, girl.”

Rory gave up. “I do not. But you’ll keep this between us, right?”

Her friend feigned innocence. “You
don’t
want me to tell the girls there’s
nothing
going on between you and Mitch?”

Even Rory had to laugh at that. “Don’t tell them anything. Please?”

Jess leaned across the van and gave her a hug. “Your secret’s safe with me. That’s what friends are for.”

“That, and shopping.” She grinned, knowing she could count on Jess to keep this under her hat, at least until she figured out what
this
was.

T
HE PLAYGROUND BEHIND
the school was empty. Not surprising, this early on a Saturday morning.

“Do you have a quarter, Dad? We need a quarter for a marker.”

He dug some change out of his pocket. “Why does it have to be a quarter?”

“’Cause Miss Sunshine says.”

Right. Miss Sunshine had made a mighty big impact for someone who had just come into their lives. Last night he had lain awake a long time, going back over that kiss—and over it, and over it—alternately wishing it hadn’t stopped at one and then reprimanding himself for letting it happen at all.

He handed a quarter to Miranda, who had already positioned herself at one end of the white-painted hopscotch court, and took a few steps back.

“This is what you have to do,” she said. “Throw the quarter in the first square and stand on one foot, like this.” She demonstrated the stance and looked up at him as though checking to make sure he was paying attention.

“Got it,” he said.

“You have to jump over top of the square with the quarter in it and land in the next one.” She landed on her right foot, arms stretched like a pair of wings and body teetering till she regained her balance. “See?”

“I do.”

“Then you get to jump on both feet.” She demonstrated that move with more precision, landing with both feet on squares three and four. “That’s the easiest one.”

She explained the moves as though she expected him to take a turn. Did she? Laura would have joined in without a second thought, leaving him to watch from the sidelines. There was a time when Miranda would have been happy with that.

She hopped on the remaining squares on one foot, landed on both feet in the semi-circle at the other end, and started the return trip. She stopped when she reached the second-to-last square. “Now you got to stay on one foot, pick up the quarter and jump out. But you still can’t jump on that square, even though the quarter’s gone,” she advised as she leaped off the court. “See? I did it!”

“Yes, you did. I’ll bet you’ve been practicing at recess.”

“Yup. Me and Ashley play all the time.” She held out the quarter. “Your turn.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” He opened his hand and reluctantly accepted the coin. “I don’t think dads are very good at this sort of thing.”

“Miss Sunshine said.”

Yes, she had. And Miss Sunshine had known full well that Miranda would expect him to give this a shot. He cast a self-conscious glance over one shoulder and then the other. What the hell. One attempt at hopscotch wouldn’t kill him.

He dropped the quarter into the first square and landed on one foot in the next square, flailed for a second and quickly hopped on both feet into the next two squares. This was harder than it looked.

Miranda stood outside the painted lines and laughed. “You’re doing good.” She sounded like a miniature school-teacher.

Should he remind her that she should say “doing well”?

No.

She was enjoying being the one in charge for a change. He should concentrate on finishing the game of hopscotch and save the grammar lesson for another time.

The hardest part was picking up the quarter at the end. Standing on one foot, reaching down to the ground, picking up a quarter and
not
falling flat on his face wasn’t easy for a guy who was over six feet and not that graceful to start with.

“See? It’s fun.”

She was right. It kind of was. Especially now that it was over—except it wasn’t.

“Now it’s my turn again.” She took the quarter from him and carefully tossed it into the second square. “We have to do this for all the squares. Three and four are the hardest ’cause you don’t get to land on both feet at once.”

By the third round he stopped feeling like a bull in a china shop and was happy to let her win, although he quickly realized that was a given anyway. If he stepped on a line, he lost his turn. If the quarter bounced out of the square, he lost his turn. And he did both several times, never intentionally.

“You’re way better at this than I am,” he said.

“I’m better than Ashley, too. Miss Sunshine says ‘practice makes perfect’ so I’ve been practicing lots.”

Miranda won the game handily and, as he offered her a congratulatory handshake, he noticed they had attracted a small audience. A young mother and her two kids—both younger than Miranda—were watching from the sidewalk on the other side of the chain-link fence. He wasn’t crazy about having people watch his clumsy attempt at a childhood game, but he didn’t feel as embarrassed as he would have half an hour ago.

“Here’s your quarter, Dad.”

“Why don’t you keep it? You can put it in your piggy bank when we get home.”

“’Kay. Thanks!” She tucked the coin in her pocket, and then she waved at the family on the sidewalk. “That’s Kayla. She’s in first grade. And that’s her mom and her little sister.”

They all waved back and, to Mitch’s relief, continued on their way. Being seen playing hopscotch was one thing. Having a conversation about it was a whole other story.

They walked toward the gate and Miranda tucked her hand in his. “I have lots of money in my bank.”

“Do you have a job I don’t know about?” he teased.

She giggled. “No. I’ve got all my tooth fairy money, and Grams gives me her change whenever we go to the store.”

“Are you saving up for something?”

Her head bobbed up and down. “Lots of stuff. I want new shoes, the kind that have wheels in them, and a bike and some nail polish like Miss Sunshine wears.”

He could think of so many reasons why that was not a good idea.

“Last night when we read
Cinderella,
she said I can go upstairs to her place and we’ll have tea. A real tea party, with cake and ice cream and everything.”

It sounded as if he needed to have a talk with Rory. It was one thing to lead him on, but not his daughter. She’d made it clear she didn’t want a family, and lately Miranda had made several references to having a mother. A mother who knew how to play hopscotch, like Miss Sunshine.

Miranda had already lost her real mother. He would not stand by and watch her have her hopes dashed by a breezy woman in brightly colored clothes and even more brightly colored toe polish. A woman who had unabashedly kissed him last night, and given him a saucy little finger wave that morning before driving away in that outrageously painted van.

“Do you want to have tea with us?”

“We’ll see.”

“When you say that, it means no.”

“It means I’ll think about it.” And then yes, once he’d come up with a decent-sounding reason, he would say no.

“Can we go for ice cream today?”

“Sure.”

“At Fisherman’s Wharf?”

“Not this time, princess.” Laura had always said that too much of a good thing spoiled the fun.

“So no cable-car ride either?”

“Not today.”

She didn’t ask why and he was grateful for that, but he knew it would come up again sooner or later. Probably sooner. “We’ll find a good place for ice cream, though.”

They turned the corner onto their street, and the first thing he noticed was that Rory’s van was not parked in front of the house. Not that he expected to see it—she had already told them she was spending the day with a friend—but it was always the first thing he looked for when he came home, and that bugged him.