His-And-Hers Twins (6 page)

Because her mother had left her?

Renee had been gone less than a year and had said she
was moving back this summer, but he didn't harbor hopes of her returning for good. Even if she changed her mind and decided she wanted family life, he wouldn't want her. His taste for flighty blondes had run its course with their disastrous short marriage. And they'd only married because of the pregnancy. When the girls had been born, he'd grown up and accepted responsibility for them. Too bad his former wife hadn't done the same.

Since the divorce, he hadn't had the time or energy to pursue a woman, nor the desire to put his own heart on the line to be crushed again. Over the past few months, he'd avoided dating, thinking if the girls saw him with another woman, it might upset them. Now they'd advertised for a mother, and they obviously needed one. He had a few single clients, but no one he could think of sparked his interest. His mind automatically strayed to his sexy next-door neighbor. He'd definitely felt a strong physical reaction to Paige. This morning, her sweet feminine scent had invaded his entire being and had lingered with him all the way to work.

But Paige wanted to travel and work. He strode back to the stainless steel table, threaded the needle through the dog's skin, making the stitches as even in length as possible. No, Paige was simply filling in for today. He wouldn't repeat the mistakes of his past, couldn't force a woman to be a mother if she wasn't ready to be one. Renee had taught him that painful lesson.

“Are you about finished with Snowball?” Clara poked her head in the treatment area.

“In a minute. How's the waiting room?” Clara's face puckered into a frown. At forty-seven, the woman was attractive in a brash sort of way, with dark eyes and hair, but her problems had taken a toll on her appearance. Worry lines fanned beside her bloodshot eyes and gray
streaked her hair. Today, he could truly sympathize. He felt as though he'd aged twenty years since the divorce.

“Only one Siamese in the cat room. But the dog side is packed. It sounds like a war zone in there.” She clicked her teeth. “Almost as bad as my house.”

“Not the kids again?”

She shook her head. “I should have stuck with dogs. Two teenagers are killing me. Jake wants a car and Lori had her first date. She didn't come in until two in the morning.”

“Geez, I bet you were frantic.” Dark circles deepened the lines below her eyes, and he wondered if she'd slept all night. He wouldn't have if it had been Summer or August out all night. Just the thought of it made him dizzy.

“She's grounded for the rest of her life,” Clara said with a tight laugh. “But I don't know what I'll do with Jake. He's so angry all the time.”

Like August.
“I'm sorry, Clara. I wish I could help. You think it's just a teenage stage?” Zeke finished the last stitch and secured the Elizabethan neck brace on the dog so she couldn't chew on his handiwork when she awoke. Lifting her from the stainless steel table, he gently eased her down in one of the beds for recovery.

“I don't know.” Clara blew out a frustrated breath. “He blames his dad for losing his job. And me for everything else.” The uncertainty in her voice reminded him of his own misgivings about parenting. “I'm doing the best I can, but it doesn't seem like enough.”

I know the feeling.
“Maybe you should take some time off work.” Zeke gave her a sympathetic smile. Her kids had problems and they had two parents. Would his daughters grow up to have even worse problems because he was a single dad?

 

B
Y HER THIRD
period class, Paige had almost driven thoughts of Zeke's dark, mesmerizing disturbing eyes from her mind.
Almost.

Dismissing the lingering sound of his deep, husky voice proved almost as difficult. She kept imagining him repeating her name in the throes of passion, while she gently erased the turmoil from his eyes with hot sultry kisses.

“Great project,” Jan Roberts said, interrupting her thoughts.

“I like yours, too,” Paige said, admiring the young girl's unusual design. She'd used denim fabric to create a bikini with a cover-up of sheer lace.

“I hope we get our grades back soon,” Jan said as they left the classroom and headed outside. “When we see the things Professor Davidson likes about these projects, I'll have a better idea how to approach the final.”

“You're right,” Paige said, although she already had sketches of ideas floating through her mind.

Jan flipped her long brown hair over her shoulder, her sun-bronzed skin glimmering in the morning sunlight. “Hey, I'm meeting some of the guys for happy hour this afternoon at the pub by Arty's Antiques. Want to hang out with us?”

Paige glimpsed the two guys Jan pointed to across the landing. The tall muscular guy with brown hair looked cute in a boyish way, and the striking blonde wearing a Braves baseball cap winked at her. The year she'd taken off to save money for school and help Eric with Joey might have been ten. Both guys seemed too young for her.

“I can't,” Paige said, wishing she'd meet a single, childless man who lit her fuse the way Zeke did. For now though, she had a tea to attend.

“Are you sure you don't want to come?” Jan asked.

“No, but thanks anyway. I'll see you Monday.” She quickly crossed the grassy quadrangle, passed the student center where dozens of students lounged around on blankets and picnic benches enjoying the beautiful spring sunshine, then raced to her car. Sliding the key in her ancient VW Bug, she puttered out of the parking lot and drove toward the day care, rolling down her window to enjoy the sweet scents of blooming pansies and freshly cut grass as she neared the suburbs. Mothers pushed their babies in strollers, while joggers, and small kids riding bikes filled the sidewalks.

Paige spotted the day care and her palms began to sweat. As a child, she'd cried when her mother had left her in day care because the rooms were dark and dreary and crowded. She quickly parked and ambled up the sidewalk, smoothing down her black denim skirt and making sure her hair was neatly secure in the combs at the nape of her neck. She'd chosen a sleeveless, lightweight lavender sweater, hoping to create a stylish impression, but also wanting something classy enough for a mommy tea. She wanted the girls to be proud they'd invited her. Or was she trying to impress Zeke, she wondered, disturbed at the thought.

When she opened the door, the sounds of children's voices and laughter spilled out, greeting her with warmth. Bright walls painted in blues and reds and oranges and greens took her by surprise. The day care had changed drastically since she'd been small. Or had she only remembered it as dreary because she'd wanted to stay home with her mother?

Hmm. She ventured inside and noticed several adults already gathering in the foyer. A poster with a child hug
ging a big brown teddy bear drew her eye and she relaxed.

“Hi, I'm the director, Vanessa Ann Whitfield.” A tall, attractive woman with creamy dark skin ushered them into a large open area where Paige noticed child-size furniture, posters and letters of the alphabet decorating several doors, and children's artwork displayed on bright bulletin boards. Tables had been draped in pastel-colored paper tablecloths, and punch bowls filled with red punch and pitchers of tea had been placed in the center of each table. Small chairs had been situated around low tables and the children had decorated place cards in the shapes of flowers and printed their mothers' names on them. Paige's heart squeezed slightly, seeing the crayoned scrawling of her name in between Summer's and August's.

She suddenly felt like an impostor, yet at the same time, she imagined how awkward and uncomfortable the girls would feel if the chair between them were vacant. Then the door sporting a purple dinosaur opened and children rushed out. Excited voices and chatter wafted around her as the children searched for their mothers. When August and Summer spied her, their small urchin faces lifted into a grin that Paige would never forget.

“Paige!” The girls squealed, then raced over and dragged her to the chair. “Look, we made you a tulip,” August said.

“You can sit between us.” Summer pointed to a bright orange child-size chair.

Paige grinned and made a show of examining the jagged edges of the paper flower. “It's beautiful. Purple tulips are my favorite.”

“August cutted it,” Summer said hesitantly.

“And Summer wrote your name,” August said.

“It's perfect,” Paige said, her chest tightening at the insecurity in the girls' eyes.

“No, it's not,” Summer said. “The
g
's crooked.”

And they'd left out the
i
, but Paige would never tell them. She chewed her lip, wondering if their mother had criticized them instead of praising their efforts. She scooped up Summer, then August and gave them both a hug. “Well, it's perfect to me because you took the time to make it.” She kissed them on the cheek, wondering if her momentary display of affection had embarrassed them. “And I love it,” she added.

But instead of embarrassment, Summer beamed, her little cheeks rosy pink, and August grinned so wide her tongue popped through the hole where she'd lost a tooth. Then August dropped into the chair with a thud and pointed to the cookies the kids had decorated. “Sit down, Paige. We made cookies, too.” The two-inch thick icing had run down the sides of the sugar cookie and sprinkles loaded the top, but Paige squeezed into the small chair, willfully ignoring the messy decorations and the calorie content as she smiled and nibbled on the gooey desserts. “Yum, these are delicious.”

“Ladies and children,” a smaller fair-haired woman said. “I'm Ms. Benson, the four-year-olds' teacher. I'd like to welcome you.”

Everyone broke into applause. “We hope you enjoy the refreshments and short program we've planned. Feel free to browse around the center before you leave.”

Everyone clapped again and Summer and August raced to the food table for drinks. Paige studied the proud moms as they exclaimed over their children's artwork. A couple of grandmothers sat at another table, and Paige relaxed slightly, grateful she wasn't the only fill-in.

The children served the punch with a minimum
amount of spillage. Paige thumbed through the booklets containing Summer's and August's drawings, concerned when she noticed August had used the color black for her family portrait. She'd obviously been upset when she'd drawn the picture. Then she scanned Summer's and frowned. Summer looked forlorn and was standing alone in all her drawings.

The teacher called the kids to the front, then introduced the music teacher who'd organized the program. August and Summer waved, then took their places, singing with animation to a litany of silly children's songs. As the children burst into the last song, they invited the moms to join in. Paige willingly followed as August and Summer dragged her between them. To the tune of “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star,” the children substituted their own words, “Mothers, mothers, here we are, dancing near, dancing far, Thank you for all you do, You are great, we love you!”

The children hugged their mothers, then presented them with small books they had made entitled, “All About Me.” Paige blinked furiously to control her emotions, knowing she would need to return the prized booklets to Zeke, but touched to be included in the girls' special day. She understood now why the twins had been so upset about the idea of coming to school without a mother or even a stand-in. It would have been devastating for them.

When they took their seats, August ran up with a friend. “Paige, this is Betsy.” Betsy bit into her cookie, dropping crumbs all over her ruffled dress.

Betsy's mother, a short, pudgy woman extended her hand to Paige. “I'm Amy. We'll have to get the girls together to play sometime.” Before Paige could respond, Janet ruffled August's hair. “You girls certainly do favor
your mother. You have the same red hair and green eyes—it's amazing.”

Paige caught her lip between her teeth. She hadn't considered the possibility people would mistake her for the girls' mother. “I'm Paige Watkins, I live next door to the girls.” She saw Summer and August watching her carefully. “I'm afraid their mom couldn't make it today, so I came as a friend.”

The woman gave her an uncomfortable smile and Paige tried to smooth over the awkward moment by suggesting the twins invite Betsy over to play one afternoon.

“But Daddy works all the time,” Summer grumbled.

“Yeah. He gots mergencies and stuff,” August croaked. She stuck her finger in the icing on her cookie and smeared it around in circles.

“Well, I'm sure we can arrange something,” Betsy's mother said. “We'll give him a call sometime. Maybe I could pick you up from school and he could get you on his way home from work.”

“Hey, if you want something bad enough you'll figure out a way to get it,” Paige said. “Maybe you could play together on a Saturday or Sunday.”

Summer nodded, brightening to the idea. August licked the icing off her finger. Paige gobbled up the cookies, making a big deal about how well the twins had decorated them, then allowed the girls to give her a tour of the center. Computers, TVs, tape recorders and video games lined the walls of the media room. Listening centers and comfy beanbag chairs created small cozy areas for reading. A separate section housed blocks and games, a housekeeping corner filled another area and an art center equipped with easels, paints and a child-size sink served as a separate activity center. The day care had obviously undergone a face-lift since her childhood.
Paige's admiration for Zeke Blalock rose a notch. He had chosen a safe and friendly atmosphere for his children.

Better off here than with her.

Paige hugged them both as she started to leave. “You girls have a good day.”