Firefighter Daddy (13 page)

F
OUR HOURS LATER
, Rory, Jess and an assortment of shopping bags were back in the van.

“Do you want me to drop you off at the bar?”

“I can’t go to work in a skirt. I have to go home first.”

“It’ll be a shame to cover up those gorgeous feet.”

Jess had strenuously argued against red toe polish, but Rory had insisted. It was a perfect match for her new retro-looking blue shoes with the shiny red high heels and little red bows above the open toes. They were on sale and Rory had briefly debated buying herself a pair, but then she’d spotted the strappy, stiletto wonders—entirely studded with sparkly rhinestones, more like jewelry than shoes—and had completely blown her budget for the rest of the month. Perfect for the wedding, and just the thing to take the starch out of a certain uptight super-hot single dad’s collar.

“Can you picture me changing a keg in flip-flops and a skirt?”

“I can’t picture it at all,” Rory said, laughing, “but that’s a good point. You can always wear your new undies under your jeans and T-shirt.”

Jess rose to the bait. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into spending that much money on a bra and panties no one will ever see.”

“You never know…” They had found a strapless bra and matching boyshorts in a shade of blue almost identical to the dresses. Perfect for Jess, and almost certain to knock some guy’s socks off.

“I’m not going to pick up some guy at the wedding and show him my underwear, but I think we know who’s going to see yours.”

“Ha-ha.” Rory had bought the shoes with Mitch in mind and, let’s admit it, he had also crossed her mind when she’d chosen the bra and the cheeky pair of panties in soft baby blue. “He won’t even be at the wedding.”

“He, who?” Jess’s question sounded casual and completely innocent.

Rory knew better than to respond, but that didn’t mean her friend was prepared to drop it.

“Maybe the father of the little girl you bought the jacket for?”

Choosing the bright yellow windbreaker had seemed like a good idea at the time. Miranda loved that color, and the jacket she’d had on this morning was way too small. But as soon as Rory had paid for it, and especially after she saw Jess’s reaction, she knew it was a bad idea. Mitch would almost certainly disapprove, and Jess would never let it go. “He’s busy and probably doesn’t like to shop. I’m just trying to help.”

She knew that wasn’t true, and so did Jess. “Are you sure that being a stand-in mom is the best way to go about this?”

“I am not a stand-in anything. I’m just a friend trying to help out.”

“And I think the lady protests too much. You always said you wanted a traditional family. This could be it.”

“I used to wish
my
family had been more traditional. I never said I was going to start one of my own.”

“I guess we’ll have to wait and see.” Jess sounded like she already knew what the result would be, and although she couldn’t be more wrong, for once Rory was happy to let her have the last word.

Chapter Nine

On Thursday during afternoon recess, Rory went down the hall to get drawing paper from the supply room. Her students usually worked on a social studies project for the last part of the day, but they were a fractious bunch today and she had decided a quiet art activity might help to settle them down. She had the makings of a headache, and after lunch she’d even lost her patience and raised her voice at them. Today was one of those rare days when she looked forward to getting out of the classroom.

She’d had a lot on her mind since her Friday-night encounter with Mitch and the next day’s phone call from her father. She hadn’t seen Mitch since Saturday morning, and if she had to guess, she’d say he was avoiding her. The phone call from her father had left her feeling rattled, and Jess’s suggestion that Rory wasn’t just falling for Mitch, she was also falling for his daughter, was completely ridiculous. She wasn’t looking for a family or a relationship with a man who had one. None of this explained her impulsive behavior on Friday night, or why she’d bought a new jacket for Miranda. It was still in the bag in the back of her van because after Jess’s suggestion that she wanted to be Mitch’s stand-in wife, she had decided to return it. Added to all that, Nicola was calling several times a day to discuss wedding arrangements, and now Nic’s mother had started calling about the bridal shower.

After school today, she would put all of them on the back burner and they could darned well sit there and simmer. She would go home, turn off her cell phone, take something for her headache and curl up and have a nap with Buick. As she walked past the office on her way back to her classroom, Shirley, the school secretary, waved a couple of message slips at her. “You have a message from Miranda Donovan’s grandmother. And one from your friend Nicola’s mother.”

Rory squinted at the notes, trying to decipher the woman’s spidery scrawl.

The first was from Betsy.
Repair man coming this afternoon. Wants to know if you can bring Miranda home after school.
No problem, since she was going straight home anyway.

The second was from Nicola’s mother.
Pick up supplies for bridal shower at the rental store and drop them off at Nic’s mother’s place.
The word
please,
clearly an afterthought, had been scrawled sideways in the margin at the beginning of the sentence. Okay. Not going straight home.

“Thanks,” Rory said. “I’ll call them.”

“How’s that working out?” Shirley asked. “Living with Miranda’s family?” She’d been the school’s secretary since Mitch had been a student here, and she had one finger firmly on the pulse of the school and everyone associated with it. Which was mostly a good thing, except when it got personal. “Um…”
How does she know about that?
Rory wondered. “I’m just renting an apartment from them.” Shirley’s cryptic smile acknowledged her explanation but implied that she was waiting for an answer, making Rory feel like a child who’d been sent to the principal’s office. “It’s working out really well. Thanks for asking.” She beat a hasty retreat before the woman could ask any more questions.

The big clock on the back wall showed that recess would be over in five minutes. She fished her cell phone out of her bag and called Nicola’s mother to learn that she had rented decorations for Nic’s shower. The store couldn’t deliver them till Saturday and she needed them
now,
even though the shower was three days away. Besides, she was sure everything would fit in Rory’s van.

Rory searched in vain for a bottle of aspirin while she dialed Betsy’s number. Betsy answered on the first ring. “Sorry to ask for another favor so soon, but Mitch is working today and I have someone coming to check the wiring on the kiln. He couldn’t say exactly when he’ll be here and when he does show up, I’ll be down in my studio with him. Would you mind bringing Miranda home and keeping an eye on her till I’m through?”

“Um, sure. I’m organizing a shower for a friend and have to run some errands after school. Is it okay if I take Miranda with me?”

“Of course. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to go with you.”

The bell rang to end recess and her students stampeded into the classroom. Only one more hour to go, she told herself.

R
ORY UNLOCKED THE
passenger door of her van.

“Goody!” Miranda climbed into the passenger seat. “In our car I have to sit in a booster seat in the back. Dad says it’s ’cause of the air bags.”

Hm. Vanna didn’t have a backseat, but she didn’t have air bags, either. “Will you be okay up here?”

“Yup.” She leaned around the seat so she could look into the back. “I’ve never ridden in a van that has a kitchen,” she said as Rory slid behind the steering wheel. “That’s
so
cool.”

The way she said “
so
cool” was an amusing contrast to the little girl who still needed a booster seat.

“I like to travel in the summertime when there’s no school.” She turned the key in the ignition and the engine sputtered to life. “The van is great because I have a place to sleep and to cook meals.”

“What about Buick?”

“Sometimes he comes with me—he likes riding in the van—and sometimes he stays with my mother in Mendocino.” Copper jokingly referred to him as her grand-cat. Rory released the hand brake. “Do up your seat belt, okay?”

“’Kay.”

Rory waited till she heard the buckle click, then pulled out of the parking space.

“I wish me and Dad had a van so we could go places.”

“Where would you like to go?” Rory asked, maneuvering into traffic.

The little girl didn’t need to give that any thought. “Disneyland. Ashley went this summer and she got Mickey Mouse ears.”

“Does your dad know that’s where you’d like to go?” Rory asked. Miranda didn’t hesitate to speak up at school, but she seemed cautious about what she said to her father. It was interesting that she was as protective of him as he was of her.

“Yup. He said we’ll go when I’m older.”

“I see.”

“How come you painted flowers on your van?”

“My mother painted them,” Rory explained. “It used to be her van, and she likes flowers and bright colors.” And because her mother used to be a hippie and that was what hippies did. She could imagine Miranda asking what a hippie was and it would be too tempting to tell her that her grandmother was one. “Did I tell you my van has a name?”

“Nuh-uh. What it is?”

“Vanna White.”

Miranda giggled. “She’s the lady on TV.”

“And she has the same initials as my Volkswagen. VW.”

“That’s funny. Me and Dad should think up a name for our car.”

Mitch drove a new but nondescript-looking SUV. Not the kind of vehicle that inspired a name, but she decided to play along with Miranda. “What’s your favorite name?” she asked.

Miranda answered without hesitation. “Laura.”

Hm. That had been her mother’s name, and Rory was absolutely certain that never in a million years would Mitch go along with naming his car after her.

“But I think ours is a boy car,” Miranda said before Rory could come up with a response.

“Really? Why do you think that?”

“’Cause it’s blue, and ’cause it’s very big and strong.”

Interesting observation. Rory suspected it had every safety device ever invented, which was likely why Mitch had chosen it, and the dark blue color reminded her of a police uniform. “How about Inspector Gadget?”

Miranda’s laughter bubbled through the van. “That’s a good name! I’ll tell my dad that’s what we should call it.”

Rory tried to imagine Mitch’s reaction. He’d almost certainly humor his daughter, but she doubted he’d ever call a car anything but a car.

After circling the block twice, Rory finally spotted the rental store in a little strip mall. “You should put on your jacket,” Rory said after she parked the van and pocketed her keys. The sun had dipped well to the west and the temperature had dropped accordingly.

Miranda unzipped her backpack. “Oh, no. I must’ve left it in my cubby at school.” She started to shiver as soon as she clambered out of the van. “Brrr.”

There’s the jacket you bought on Saturday,
Rory reminded herself. She would have to remove the tags, which meant she wouldn’t be able to return it after all, but she couldn’t let the little girl get chilled. “Try this on,” she said, pulling the jacket out of the bag.

“How come you have a kid’s jacket?”

“Oh. Well, I was planning to give it to my friend’s daughter.”

Liar.

“For her birthday. Which is next week.”

Liar.

“Is she going to come to visit you?” Miranda sounded hopeful about the possibility of a visitor her age.

“No. She lives in Mendocino,” Rory said, naming the first city that popped into her head. “I was planning to mail it to her.”

Pants on fire.

Rory held the yellow windbreaker so Miranda could slip her arms into the flannel-lined sleeves.

“It’s nice and warm.”

“And it fits, too.” She dug a pair of nail clippers out of her purse and snipped the tag off the sleeve. “There you go. You can keep this one and I’ll get another one for my friend. My friend’s daughter.” Better keep her story straight, especially if she expected Mitch to accept her explanation. She zipped the jacket. “How’s that?”

“Good. I like yellow and my old one is getting too small.”

As they walked across the parking lot, Rory felt a small, warm hand slip into hers. She squeezed the little hand, looked down into a pair of trusting blue eyes, and she was done for. Scattered snippets of the conversations she’d had with her friends and her father raced through her mind.

Love doesn’t have to be complicated.

Give Mitch a chance.

He’s a good man. A good father.

You always said you wanted a traditional family.

It’s way too complicated, and I don’t do complicated.

Being with Miranda felt gratifying, natural, simple. Not complicated at all.
Watch your step,
Rory warned herself.

The store’s showroom was filled with displays of every kind of wedding paraphernalia a bride could possibly want, and a lot of things most would never dream of.

A tall, dark-haired woman greeted them from behind the counter. “How can I help you?”

“I’m here to pick up decorations for a friend’s bridal shower.” She gave the woman Nicola’s name and waited while she looked it up on the computer.

Miranda let go of her hand and wandered inside a miniature gazebo draped with white netting. “Look! It’s like Cinderella lives here.”

“Here it is. Everything is ready to go.” The clerk pointed to a small mountain of boxes stacked by the door. “We even had enough centerpieces in stock.”

Centerpieces? For a bridal shower? She still thought an evening at Jess’s bar would have been just as much fun and a lot less trouble, but Nic’s mom was doing most of the work and footing the entire bill. She had hired a caterer so Rory didn’t have to shop for food, and Paige was looking after the shower gift from the four bridesmaids.

“We have a loading zone right here in front of the store. Will this fit in your car?”

“I have a van. I’m sure everything will fit.”

“Very good. If you’d like to leave your daughter here while you move your van, I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your daughter,” she repeated, gesturing toward the gazebo.

“Oh.” She should explain that Miranda was not her daughter. For some reason, she didn’t. “Thanks, but I’ll take her with me. Miranda? Let’s go get the van, then you can help me load the boxes.”

“’Kay. I’m pretending I’m a princess and this is my castle. Will there be one of these at the wedding?”

She sincerely hoped not.

It was nearly five o’clock when they left the wedding store and headed for Cow Hollow. After not wanting to spend another minute with the children in her classroom, she had just pretended to be the mother of one of them. The crazy emotions brought on by holding Miranda’s hand should have passed by now.

They hadn’t.

F
OR THE SECOND
F
RIDAY
night in a row, Rory was spending the evening at home. She really needed to get a life. At least a social one. She lounged on the sofa with Buick curled up by her feet and surfed through several channels on TV, stopping at a news broadcast that was reporting on a fire that had happened late last night. Mitch had worked last night. Not that it mattered one way or the other, but she had fallen into the habit of figuring out when he worked and when he had days off.

On the television, the flames shooting from the roof of the house seemed impervious to the water gushing from an aerial hose. She leaned closer as the camera showed a close-up of one truck. It was from Mitch’s station. Three people—a woman and her two children—were being examined by paramedics. There was a brief interview with a neighbor, who told the reporter they were the only residents of the house, so it seemed likely that no one was trapped inside. Then the camera cut to an image of a firefighter carrying a shivering, terrified-looking little dog wrapped in a blanket.

“Aw, they even rescued the dog.” She gave Buick a gentle scruff behind the ears. He stood up and glowered at her for disturbing him, then stretched out his front legs, butt in the air, and flopped onto his other side.

Rory’s cell phone rang and Nicola’s name appeared on the call display.
Oh, for heaven’s sake. What now?

The shower was under control.

Jess had appropriate shoes.

Appointments for the bridesmaids’ hair and makeup had been made.

And yes, a new wristwatch seemed like an appropriate wedding gift for Jonathan. Actually, she had no clue whether it was or not, but Nicola didn’t need to know that.

She answered this call reluctantly. “Hi, Nic. What’s up?”

“You won’t believe this.”

No, she probably wouldn’t.

“One of Jonathan’s groomsmen broke his leg yesterday.”

The guy had some nerve. Rory would have laughed if she didn’t feel so sorry him. “How did that happen?”