The Family Plan (8 page)

She became even more aware of how very close he stood. Their faces were only inches apart.

The intimacy of their proximity—and maybe something about the way he was looking at her—made her stomach muscles tighten. “That’s the sort of thing business partners do for each other,” she said inanely.

He smiled then. “No. That’s what
friends
do for each other,” he corrected. “Thank you for being my friend tonight, Caitlin.”

Maybe he intended the kiss he gave her to be nothing more than a friendly peck on the cheek. His lips were warm when he pressed them against her cool skin, just to the right of her mouth. So close to her mouth that their lips almost, but not quite, touched. And the temptation to turn her head just that small amount was suddenly so strong that she jerked backward as though his touch had burned her.

Stumbling awkwardly, her face flaming, she fumbled for the doorknob. “I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow.”

He moved out of the way so she could make her escape, though she felt him watching her. She felt like a fool as she all but fell out the front door. She didn’t look back when she jumped into her car and drove away, but she had the feeling that Nathan watched her until she was out of his sight.

He was probably wondering what the heck had gotten into her. She wondered about that herself. It had only been a friendly kiss on the cheek, after all.

It had to be the very long, stressful week getting to her, she figured, gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles ached. That, combined with the shock of discovering that her partner had suddenly become a single dad, had made her jumpier than usual. Prone to overreaction.

Maybe she had fantasized a few times in the past nine months about what it might be like to kiss her sexy partner, but that had nothing to do with her reaction tonight.

At least, that was what she told herself as she drove a bit too quickly away from his house.

“Purple’s my favorite color, Nate. Can I have a purple bedspread?”

“Poppet, you can have any color bedspread your little heart desires, but if you don’t hurry and finish your oatmeal, you won’t be ready when Miss Caitlin comes to pick you up.”

Isabelle dutifully spooned another bite of oatmeal into her mouth. “Why can’t you go shopping with us?” she asked as soon as she had swallowed.

“I told you, there’s something I have to do this morning. I’ll help you fix up your room this afternoon with all the pretty things you and Miss Caitlin buy, okay?”

She squirmed on her stack of law books. “Okay.”

Nathan added “booster seat” to the list he had been writing out while Isabelle ate her breakfast. He was fully aware of the magnitude of the favor Caitlin was doing for him today. He made a mental vow that not only would he never impose on her like this again, he would find some way to repay her.

He wanted to get their relationship back on an even footing. Only then could they evaluate what might develop between them in the future—whether it would ever be more than a business partnership or a casual friendship. Obviously, his own circumstances had changed dramatically.

The catalyst of all that change pushed her oatmeal bowl away and squirmed again on the books. “I’m full now.”

He set his pen on the pad. “I guess you’d better get dressed, then.”

“I didn’t get my bath last night ’cause I was so sleepy. Do I take it now?”

Bath? Nathan cleared his throat. “Uh, can you do that yourself?”

Isabelle looked indignant. “I’m almost four,” she reminded him. “I can take a bath.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“But I can’t wash my hair.”

Oh, man.
Reminding himself that he’d known what he was getting himself into when he’d asked Alan Curtis to help him get guardianship of his sister, Nathan nodded. “Okay, you take your bath, then I’ll help you wash your hair. We’d better hurry, though. Caitlin will be here in an hour.”

“
Miss
Caitlin,” she corrected him as she climbed down from her chair.

He chuckled. “Miss Caitlin.”

Isabelle wasn’t ready when Caitlin arrived. Her hair was still damp and she was dressed only in panties and a purple terry cloth robe.

The bath had taken longer than Nathan expected, and he needed a bit more practice at hair washing before he considered himself proficient at the task. He’d had trouble getting the shampoo out of Isabelle’s hair without getting it in her eyes. Since then he had been trying to detangle and dry her fine blond hair.

He groaned when the doorbell chimed.

“That’s dry enough,” he decided, setting the blow dryer aside. “Run get dressed while I let Miss Caitlin in. And try to hurry, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll hurry.” She ran full speed toward her bedroom. They had already selected an outfit for the day. It was lying on the bed, ready for her to pull on. Nathan figured she could dress without his assistance.

“I was beginning to wonder if you were going to open the door,” Caitlin said when he finally made it to the living room.

Moving aside to let her in, he smiled wryly. “It may take a few days to develop a morning routine here. Isabelle’s almost ready.”

“Problems?”

“No. We’re just running a little behind.”

Isabelle entered the room then, her hair tousled around her face, her feet still bare. She had donned her red and white shirt and navy pants, but she carried her socks and shoes in her hands. “I need a little help.”

She was such a bright, articulate child that Nathan tended to forget at times how young she was. She was still little more than a baby, really, and her tiny fingers hadn’t quite caught up with her clever mind.

He picked her up and set her into a chair, kneeling in front of her. “Okay, Cinderella, let’s see if these slippers fit.”

Isabelle giggled. “They aren’t slippers. They’re sneakers.”

“That’s okay, honey. He isn’t really Prince Charming, either,” Caitlin murmured.

Nathan gave her a look over his shoulder. “No comments from the wicked witch, please.”

Isabelle laughed again. “There wasn’t a wicked witch in Cinderella, Nate. It was a wicked
stepmother.
”

“Oh.” He kept his eyes on the tiny foot he was stuffing into a white cotton sock, and decided not to pursue that particular story line. “Well, what story
was
the wicked witch in?”

“Sleeping Beauty. And Snow White. And the Wizard of Oz. But not Cinderella.”

He managed to work her foot into a sneaker. “Wow. That was one busy witch.”

“They weren’t all the
same
witch, Nate. They were different witches.”

“Oh. I see I’m going to have to brush up on my fairy tales.”

“I suppose Nathan told you our plans for this morning?” Caitlin asked Isabelle.

The child nodded. “We’re going shopping for a room.”

That made Caitlin smile. “Not a whole room, exactly. Just the things we need to make your room prettier. Is it okay with you if I take you?”

“Do you like purple?”

“I love purple,” Caitlin assured her.

Isabelle dimpled and wiggled her now-shod feet. “Then it’s okay.”

Caitlin reached down to brush a stray lock of hair from Isabelle’s face. “Maybe we should brush your hair first? Do you have a barrette or a ponytail holder we can use to hold it back?”

“I’ll be right back.” Isabelle turned and ran toward her bedroom.

“She seems to have two speeds,” Nathan commented. “Very fast and very slow. She’s been in slow speed all morning, which is why her hair isn’t done.”

Caitlin eyed him quizzically. “You were going to do her hair?”

“I’ve got to learn how,” he said with a shrug. “I figure it can’t be too hard to learn how to do a basic ponytail or braid or something.”

She paused a moment, then asked, “Have you called your mother yet to tell her you want to talk to her?”

“Not yet. I thought I’d call as soon as you leave. She’ll be home. She’s always home on Saturday mornings. That’s when she does her housework.”

“You can’t be looking forward to this.”

Major
understatement. He decided to let it pass.

Isabelle returned clutching a hairbrush and a barrette with a red fabric bow attached. Her stuffed white owl was tucked beneath her arm. “Will this bow work? And can Hedwig come with us?”

Caitlin replied, “The bow is just right. And is Hedwig your owl’s name?”

Isabelle nodded. “From
Harry Potter.
Aunt Barb read the books to me. And I’ve seen the movie a bunch of times. It’s got a scary part, but I like the owls.”

“You like books, Isabelle?” Caitlin asked as she carefully brushed the child’s silky hair back at the top. Nathan watched closely, hoping he could replicate the style.

Isabelle nodded enthusiastically, making her hair tumble out of Caitlin’s hands before she could secure it with the barrette. “Oh, sorry. I like books. I can read a little.”

“Really?” Caitlin looked at Nathan for confirmation as she patiently gathered Isabelle’s hair again.

He nodded proudly. “She read two books to me on the airplane. They’re for beginning readers, and she knew almost every word in them.”

“Isabelle, that’s wonderful. You’re a very bright little girl.”

Isabelle smiled with an attempt at modesty. “My aunt Barb taught me. She likes books, too. When she visits me here, I’ll read new stories to her.”

Nathan managed not to wince. Isabelle had readily accepted that she would be living with her brother from now on, but she continued to assume her great-aunt would soon recover from her illness and join them. Nathan hadn’t had the heart to tell her differently.

Isabelle knew what death was, of course, having lost her parents. But he saw no need to burden her with the truth about her great-aunt’s condition for now.

He hoped waiting was the right choice. He suspected there would be many such dilemmas as she grew older. Someday, for example, she would have to learn the details of her parents’ scandalous courtship. And he wanted to be the one to tell her, before some malicious kid taunted her with it.

Caitlin handed him the hairbrush, apparently reading his expression. “Isabelle and I have some shopping to do. And you have something you had better do
soon.
”

In some ways, she had subconsciously echoed his line of thought. Timing was often critical—and it was definitely time to talk to his mother, before someone beat him to it. “You’re right. I’ll—”

His doorbell rang before he could finish the sentence.

“You got company, Nate,” Isabelle announced needlessly.

“Must be a delivery or something. I’m not expecting anyone.” Motioning for them to hold tight a minute, he moved to the door.

The last person he had expected to find on his front step was his mother.

Chapter Five

F
rom where she stood, Caitlin couldn’t immediately see Nathan’s caller. But she could tell from the sudden tension in his body that it wasn’t a pleasant surprise.

A moment later she understood the problem when she heard him say, “Mom. What are you doing here?”

The voice that responded was tight and chilly. “May I come in?”

Nathan looked over his shoulder, his eyes meeting Caitlin’s for a moment before he moved out of the doorway. “Of course. Come in.”

Lenore spotted Caitlin as soon as she entered. “Hello, Caitlin. I wasn’t expecting to see you here this morning.”

“I, um,” Caitlin glanced at Nathan for guidance. Standing behind his mother, he shrugged helplessly.

Lenore’s gaze had already turned to Isabelle. She froze, her carefully made-up face going pale.

“Hello,” Isabelle said with her characteristic friendliness. “Who are you?”

“This is my mother,” Nathan said quickly. “Mom, this is—”

“I’m sure I know who she is.” Lenore pulled her stunned gaze away from Isabelle’s face and turned to her son.

Nathan stuck his hands in his pockets, looking more nervous than Caitlin had ever seen him. “She looks like Deborah did at this age, doesn’t she?”

It was entirely the wrong thing for him to say, of course. Caitlin grimaced as the older woman stiffened even further.

“How could you do this?” Lenore asked hoarsely.

“Is Deborah my sister?” Isabelle wanted to know, obviously recognizing the reference from things Nathan had told her.

Caitlin quickly reached out to lay her hand on the little girl’s shoulder. “Isabelle and I were just leaving. Nathan, we’ll see you later.”

“Right.” He reached out to lightly pat Isabelle’s cheek. “Be good for Miss Caitlin, okay, poppet?”

“I will. See you, Nate. ’Bye, Nate’s mom.”

Caitlin could see Lenore struggling with a response. She wasn’t a cruel woman, but this had to be extremely difficult for her. Finally she nodded and muttered, “Goodbye.”

Apparently content with the terse response, Isabelle reached out to take Caitlin’s hand. “We’re going to get a purple bedspread now.”

Caitlin touched Nathan’s arm as she passed him on the way out—a subtle gesture of support and encouragement. She hadn’t been looking forward to this excursion, but she would rather shop with a busload of preschoolers than be in Nathan’s shoes right now.

Caitlin’s car was loaded to near bulging by the time she returned to Nathan’s house. She and Isabelle hadn’t quite bought out the local department store, but they had certainly given it their best shot. Shopping wasn’t one of Caitlin’s usual passions, and she had never spent more than a few minutes at a time in the company of small children, but she enjoyed the outing more than she had expected.

Maybe it was because this particular small child was different from most.

Caitlin had run into a few people she knew, of course. To avoid any problems, she had introduced Isabelle simply as her “young friend,” without mentioning Nathan’s name. The truth would get out soon enough. She only hoped Isabelle wouldn’t have to suffer because of it.

To give Nathan plenty of time, they’d had lunch out. Caitlin believed children should be exposed to good food and nice surroundings early, so she eschewed the usual fast-food places and selected one of her favorite tearooms, instead.