Five

Shanna’s heart stopped beating.

She remembered when Roger had introduced her to his mother. Looking back, that was her signal that Roger intended to make the relationship serious.

She didn’t want a serious relationship. She didn’t want any relationship. Especially not with King Kong.

“Hi,” she said, unable to keep her voice from coming out like a strangled squeak.

“Shanna?” Brendan asked, stepping forward. “Are you okay? Is something wrong?”

Shanna shook her head, then nodded as she gulped in a deep breath of air, trying to force her heart to start beating again. “I’m fine,” she choked out. “I’m sorry. I was just thinking of. . .something.” She turned to his mother. “I’m pleased to meet you.”

His mother smiled and extended one hand. “My name is Kathy. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes. I’m so sorry.”

Absently, Brendan lifted his hand and stroked his beard. “I have another project to start today. My mother often does painting for me when I need help. If you don’t mind, I’m going to leave her here and pick her up on my way back.”

“N–no. . .I don’t mind.”

“Great. I just have to get the paint out of my truck.”

The second Brendan disappeared, Kathy started talking. “I’ve heard a lot about your new playscape. As usual, it looks better than Brendan described it. He’s too modest with the things he does. I see he’s done a lovely job of your yard, too.”

Even though she’d already looked at it a million times, Shanna took in the transformation, still barely able to believe it was real. The ground was now perfectly even, and the grass was green and lush. A row of small shrubs—azaleas, rhododendrons, some rosebushes, and a few ferns lined the back fence, completing the picture. Brendan told her he’d selected these particular plants so she could have a beautiful array of flowers from early spring until late fall.

The two rock gardens splashed more color into her yard. These were planted with hardy dark green shrubs and a rainbow of pansies. They were both artistic and beautiful. The corner flower bed was constructed with plastic covering the ground and plants poking out from cut holes, the plastic covered by mulch. Brendan had explained that he’d done it like this so she wouldn’t have weeds to pull from around the plants.

In both corners he’d planted a couple of bushes. She couldn’t remember the technical name he’d given her, but the common name was butterfly bush. Over the years they would become big and lush, and for most of the summer and into the fall they would be loaded with cascading purple blossoms. This was one of Brendan’s favorite perennials because it was hardy and fragrant. As the name implied, it would attract butterflies. Around both trees he’d planted a mixture of bright blossoms—carnations, marigolds, petunias, and a number of others she couldn’t remember the names of. He’d said this was the only place he’d planted annuals because he’d also planted a variety of bulbs for the earliest of the spring flowers—daffodils in all their color variations, tulips, and crocuses. She just wouldn’t be able to see those until next year. And as a special touch, under the eaves, he’d hung a few pots of brilliant pink and white fuchsias that were supposed to attract hummingbirds.

“Uh. . .yes. . .he’s done a great job.”

Brendan returned with two cans of paint, far too much to cover just the playscape—probably enough to start work on the fence when it was completed.

He checked his wristwatch. “I’ll see you at 5:00.”

He was gone before she could respond.

Kathy waved one hand in the air. “Don’t mind me. Go back to work. Don’t be afraid to let the children into the yard. I’ll keep them off the wet paint. I know I’ll enjoy their company while I do this. I’m not even going to call it work. I love painting even more than I love knitting. I can tell you that it’s much more difficult to find a painting job than it is to go to the store and buy a couple of skeins of wool.”

Shanna glanced toward the empty playscape. “Actually, my children aren’t home. As you can see, it’s just me and my dog.”

Kathy turned her head to watch Boffo, who was sitting at the gate Brendan had just left through, waiting for him to come back.

One corner of Kathy’s mouth tipped up. “So that’s the. . . uh”—Kathy paused and cleared her throat—“large dog he’s been taking to Jeff’s obedience class.”

Shanna’s cheeks warmed, thinking that Brendan had probably used other words to describe Boffo. “That would be him.”

Kathy rubbed her hands together. “This is getting better. And it’s making more and more sense.”

“I don’t understand.”

“He talks differently about you than his other landscaping clients.” Kathy giggled. “He said that you and I would get along like peanut butter and jam.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’m just repeating what he said.”

Memories of what Roger had said about his mother poked into Shanna’s mind. Roger had also told Shanna that his mother would like her, although not in that way. At the time, Shanna had been flattered. It had been less flattering when Roger’s mother started asking too-personal questions, then began snooping around her house to see what kind of wife Shanna would be to her precious son. In hindsight, Shanna now knew that Roger’s mother was looking for someone who would be a perfect housekeeper, because Roger was such a slob. Roger had laughed it off, and not long after that, they were married.

However, this time Shanna wasn’t meeting the mother of a man she wanted to marry. This was the mother of someone with whom she had made a business agreement—and Shanna wanted it to stay that way. Yet, despite her hesitations, her impression was that Brendan didn’t have any hidden agenda with leaving his mother to paint the playscape. Kathy was simply there to work. There was even the possibility that since his mother said she enjoyed painting, Brendan was doing his mother a favor by providing something she liked to do.

The smart thing would be to back off and not answer any personal questions—and only let Brendan’s mother into the house when she had to use the bathroom.

Kathy picked up a can of paint and a brush. “So, tell me, Shanna, do you knit?”

Shanna’s gaze met Kathy’s and held. Her impression of Kathy was that, unlike Roger’s mother, Kathy was sincere, and her question wasn’t personal; it was simply to start a light conversation. In a way, Kathy reminded Shanna of an older version of her pastor’s wife. “I knit a little,” Shanna muttered, not wanting to be rude. “I’m not very good.”

Kathy pried the lid off the paint can. “I knit a lot. If you want, I can help you. I have boxes of adorable patterns in my collection that kids fall in love with.”

“Really?” Shanna asked before she could stop herself. When Kathy looked up and smiled, something inside of Shanna started to melt. Brendan’s mother wasn’t grilling Shanna about how she spent her time. She was just offering to help.

“Yes,” Kathy replied. “I have patterns from beginner up to advanced.” She smiled again, the crinkles at the corners of her eyes reminding Shanna of one of the elderly ladies at church whose biggest joy in life was spending time with younger women, either nurturing them or just having fun.

Kathy looked at her, waiting, until Shanna felt awkward about not responding. “I’m definitely a beginner,” she mumbled. “I tried and tried, but it wouldn’t work, so I gave up.”

“You probably gave up too soon. All you need is someone to show you how. We have a ladies’ group at my church that gets together for coffee once a month, and many of the ladies bring their knitting. I’ve shown a number of them how to do the pictures, and I could show you, too. Don’t be shy. I don’t bite.”

Guilt surged through Shanna’s heart. She had been completely unfair, as well as judgmental. Brendan’s mother wasn’t there to spy on her; she just wanted to be friendly.

Shanna gathered her courage. “Matthew has a friend who gets new sweaters with all his favorite cartoon characters on them. He was so disappointed when I couldn’t do it.”

“Most of the ones for young children aren’t that difficult. The secret is using a ruler.”

“A ruler?”

“I’ll show you. Brendan will be here to pick me up later, but I can always come back in the evening myself. Or another day.”

Shanna nibbled on her bottom lip. Matthew would be deliriously happy to get a sweater with a picture on it, handmade by his mother. Ashley didn’t have a favorite cartoon character, but she loved sheep or anything with a sheep on it. A friend had given Shanna a pattern to knit a toy sheep, but she hadn’t been able to figure it out. If Kathy could knit pictures into a sweater, surely she could help Shanna knit a sheep.

Dear Lord, please tell me I’m not being foolish to trust this woman. Tell me that I’m doing the right thing.

She had to rely on God, that He was opening a new door that led to a place where she would be safe.

“As long as it’s not too much trouble, that would be nice. Thank you.”

Kathy smiled warmly. “I think it will be fun. Now you get back to work in your office, and I’ll get busy. I’ll see you later.”

Shanna returned to her desk, but instead of checking her client’s expense figures, she watched Kathy painting. On first impression, she liked Brendan’s mother. Thinking about Kathy’s offer, Shanna knew she really did need a friend. While the women at church were nice, and she certainly enjoyed herself every few months when she participated in a function with them, she wasn’t close to anyone there. Mostly, it was her own fault. When she was married to Roger, he hadn’t wanted to go to church. He’d go only on Christmas and Mother’s Day. Other than that, she took the children on her own. All the ladies there were married, so she felt awkward at family functions without Roger. And while she had some fellowship, she didn’t have anyone she could really talk to or any true friendship. The issues she had to deal with weren’t something she could share, so she kept mostly to herself.

But this was different. Like Shanna, Kathy was alone. Matthew had told her that Brendan didn’t have a daddy anymore, either. Shanna could only assume that Kathy had chosen to remain single. At some point, Shanna would marry again, but for now she didn’t want a boyfriend. But she did need a friend. Perhaps Kathy did, too.

Shanna watched Brendan’s mother dipping the paint-brush into the can. She wondered if Kathy was lonely now that her son was grown up and not living in her home anymore.

Shanna couldn’t imagine living alone. Being a self-employed, single mother was busy—very busy. Today was a rare day; both children were gone and everything was quiet. Boffo was even behaving himself, sitting quietly watching Kathy paint while Kathy talked to him. He even seemed to be listening and responding to what she said.

But her work wasn’t going to get done if she spent the day staring out the window. As she should have done earlier, Shanna took advantage of the silence and got busy.

Halfway through the afternoon, Shanna poured two glasses of iced tea and joined Kathy.

As she walked, she looked up to the top of the fort section of the playscape, noticing for the first time that Brendan had put shingles on the roof—the same shingles that were on her house.

The paint Kathy had applied was exactly the same color as the trim around the windows.

The man didn’t miss anything.

She handed Kathy the glass. “I thought we could both use a break.”

“Thanks. This will really hit the spot.”

Shanna made sure the ground was dry enough; then she lowered herself to sit in the soft, new grass. “Do you do a lot of this kind of thing?”

Kathy shook her head. “Not as much as I’d like. Brendan doesn’t get a lot of jobs like your playscape. Usually, if he builds anything, it’s just fences made with pretreated wood, so there’s no paint needed. He’s seeing a new trend with chain-link fences, so now there’s even less for me to paint. I like to help him. I’m also very efficient with a seeder.”

“I guess you don’t have another job? After all, you’re here in the afternoon.”

“I have a full-time job, but it’s retail, so the hours and days are flexible. I’m only here today because this week I have to work Saturday. Fortunately for me, it’s a small, privately owned store, so I don’t have to work on Sundays. After church I like to spend the day with my friends, especially in the summer. I try to keep myself busy. I’m sure you know what it’s like. Brendan tells me that you’re a widow, too.”

“Uh, yes, I am.”

Kathy smiled, but her eyes lost focus. “You’ve got your children to keep you busy. I only had one child, and he’s all grown up now. He still keeps me busy, but in different ways. He’s a wonderful boy.”

The image of Brendan towering above her formed a very clear picture in Shanna’s mind. Brendan Gafferty was far from a “boy.”

Kathy drank some of the iced tea, then lowered the glass, setting it in the grass so it wouldn’t spill while she painted. “I should let you get back to work. Brendan says you’re very busy now that you’ve taken him on as a client of sorts.”

Shanna rose, brushing a few loose blades of grass off her clothes as she stood. “Yes, he’s right about that. We can talk more tonight when you come back.” As the words left her mouth, she knew they were true. She missed being involved in an adult conversation with someone who had no expectations of her and wanted nothing in return.

Kathy walked to her paint can and dipped in the brush. “Brendan should be back in another hour. I only have a little left to do, so I wanted to get this finished. I’ll come back later, after supper.”

Shanna smiled. “That sounds like fun.” As the words left her mouth, her smile widened. It really did sound like fun, and she could hardly wait for Kathy to come back.

❧

Brendan told himself not to worry when his mother didn’t answer her house phone. But then, when her cell phone went to voice mail, he told himself not to panic. He wasn’t calling about anything important. But it was important that she wasn’t home. Tonight was Thursday night. His mother was always home on Thursday night to watch her favorite television program. And even if she wasn’t home, she always answered her cell phone. Before he assumed she was lying on the floor unable to get up, he tried one last thing before he drove to her house to check on her.

Brendan corrected four errors while typing the message, but he finally entered the words and text-messaged his mother on his cell phone.

Where are you?

He waited one long minute for a response, but instead of simply ringing to be answered, the phone signaled the tone for a text message.

I’m at Shanna’s house. We’re busy. Can’t talk. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Brendan stared at the message in disbelief. Not only had she not phoned back, but her text message was blunt and she didn’t want to talk to him. Also, if he hadn’t been mistaken, his mother had been at Shanna’s house every day that week. He stared at the message until it timed out and the screen went blank.

Brendan had wanted his mother to make new friends, but in hindsight, he should have seen this coming. His mother had plenty of friends at church, but there almost every friend she had was half of a couple. His mother often felt the odd person out, regardless of how friendly everyone was and how well they treated her. The bottom line was that she was the only person at most of the occasions who was single. She refused to attend the singles group because everyone there was too young for her; namely, they were his age, not his mother’s age. But lately she’d begun to turn down invitations to functions she normally attended. After all these years of being single, it was starting to wear on her. And it was starting to worry Brendan.

Brendan wanted very much for his mother to find a good friend who was another single woman. He’d felt that his mother and Shanna would get along well, but he hadn’t envisioned them connecting like this.

Still, Shanna and his mother had a lot in common. Not that he talked a lot to Shanna, but her kids talked a lot about her while they “helped” him in the backyard. Besides the obvious similarities, as listed by her children, neither Shanna nor his mother had a man in her life, nor were they making any effort to find one. Shanna had even declined his invitation to attend his church’s singles group with him. He’d almost taken the fast rejection personally, but he reminded himself of what Matthew had told him about other men she’d also turned down.

Brendan snapped his phone shut, but he’d no sooner fastened it back on his belt when it sang the familiar ring tone, this time signaling that it wasn’t a text message, but a real caller.

The display showed his mother’s cell number.

“Brendan? I need you to come to Shanna’s right away.”

The urgency in her voice made his heart skip a beat. His mother was one person who could always be relied upon in the case of an emergency. He’d suffered terrible allergies as a child, and his mother’s quick action had saved him from death more than once. His first thought was that something had happened to one of Shanna’s children. In that case, she should be calling an ambulance, not him. “What’s wrong? Should I bring something? What do you need?”

“I need you. Come now. Hurry. But don’t speed. I don’t want you getting a ticket, or worse.”

He abandoned his half-eaten supper on the table and ran out the door. A ticket would be the least of his worries; but he wouldn’t be any good to anyone, especially in an emergency, if he was late or had an accident and injured himself or someone else.

The traffic lights were on his side. Brendan arrived at Shanna’s home in good time. He ran to the door, opened it without knocking, and dashed in.

The second his foot touched the floor, Boffo came bounding down the stairs. Brendan pushed down on Boffo’s shoulders to make the dog remember to sit and not jump on people, and Brendan raised his head. “Mom? Shanna? Where are you?” he called up the stairs.

His mother and Shanna hustled down the stairs, both wearing jackets. The children were nowhere to be seen. In the background, he heard the television, but it wasn’t CSI; it was a cartoon.

“Susan called. I forgot all about the ladies’ Snack ’n Yak night. We need you to watch the children.”

Shanna smiled weakly. “They both go to bed at 7:30, 8:00 at the latest, or Matthew will be cranky in the morning.”

Brendan froze where he stood. “You called me here in a big rush so you could go have coffee with a bunch of women?”

“It’s more than that. This is part of our big fund-raising project. It’s the dessert auction. We’ve raised a lot of money for that orphanage the church is sponsoring, but we still need more. Fortunately, Shanna had just made a batch of cupcakes for the children, so we’re taking most of those tonight. I hope we have enough larger cakes for the auction, but there’s nothing I can do about that now. Susan just called and said a couple of the people who volunteered to help got sick. Shanna said she could help, so we need you to watch Matthew and Ashley. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Well. . . I. . .”

“I hear that Rosie is making her famous triple chocolate delight cake. If you give me some money, I’ll see if I can bid on it for you.”

Brendan knew he’d lost the battle. There was no point in trying to fight. He reached into his back pocket for his wallet and gave his mother twice as much as he thought any self-respecting cake should go for.

After she took his money, his mother reached up to rest her hands on his shoulders. She rose on her tiptoes, pulling him down slightly as she stretched herself out to as much height as she could manage, then gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “You’re a dear. We’ll see you later. Bye.”

Before he could respond, both women were gone and the door closed behind them.

“I don’t believe this,” he muttered to the wall.

His mother’s car started, and within seconds, they were gone.

Brendan turned his head and listened to what was going on upstairs before he actually went up.

He’d never been inside Shanna’s house before, except for the brief time it took to get rid of her brother-in-law. Otherwise, he’d only been in the office, through the entrance from the backyard.

He looked up the stairs. Shanna’s home was like many others in suburban Seattle—a two-story house with a ground-level entry and the main living area on the upper floor. He was a little familiar with the ground level. It was smaller because it was cut out for the garage and consisted of her office, another small room, a small bathroom, and the main entrance foyer where the stairs accessed the living area.

Before walking up, he peeked to his left, around the corner to see what she had done with the other room he’d never seen.

It appeared to be a makeshift family room with inexpensive carpeting laid on top of the cement floor. A worn, color-dated sofa and an old television lined the walls, and the floor was strewn with the children’s and Boffo’s toys. On the other side of the room there was a small work space with the washer, dryer, and a laundry sink, all of which butted up to the bathroom wall, for the functionality of keeping the plumbing centrally located. Next to this was another door opening, which led to Shanna’s office at the rear of the house. The setup wasn’t pretty, but it was functional, and mostly, it worked.

He walked up the stairs, where he found Matthew sitting on the living room floor surrounded by plastic bricks, half his attention on the television and half on what appeared to be the beginnings of a boat. Ashley was curled up in one corner of the couch, hugging a stuffed bear, her gaze glued completely to the television.

“Hi, kids,” he said, making his best attempt to sound cheerful.

They both nodded, but neither spoke or broke their attention away from their show.

Beside him, Boffo wagged his tail and pressed his cold, wet nose into Brendan’s hand.

One big, happy family. It almost made him want to call out, “Honey, I’m home,” but there was no “honey,” and it wasn’t his home. He didn’t belong here, but he couldn’t leave. He could only stare at the children. Outside, in the backyard, he could keep them busy. Here, in their home, he didn’t know what to do. So he sat on the couch and watched the cartoon with them.

He wasn’t quite sure how or when it happened, but an hour later, Ashley had wiggled over and was lying with her head in his lap, hugging her bear, fast asleep. Matthew was on his other side, leaning against him, holding a now fully made boat limply in one hand, also sleeping. Boffo lay in front of him, on top of his feet. Not only was Boffo sleeping, but he was also snoring. Brendan wondered when he’d become so boring.

Instead of spending the evening being used as an oversized pillow, he steadied Matthew, wiggled his feet out from underneath Boffo, and shuffled sideways on the couch so he could slip away from Ashley without waking her. Assured that she was still sleeping and that she wouldn’t fall off the couch, he carried Matthew into the hallway. The first door on the left was a bedroom done in shades of pinks and purples, so he kept going. The next door on the right was definitely an adult bedroom, although he did see some clothes on the floor and the bed wasn’t made.

The next door was the bathroom, and after that, a bedroom painted with bright primary colors, spotted with posters of racing cars and monster trucks. Scattered on the floor was a variety of cars, trucks, and miscellaneous action figures. A well-used stuffed bear lay haphazardly on the bed.

Brendan pushed the covers down, then very gently laid Matthew on the bed.

He stood straight and looked down. He didn’t want to wake the child, but he didn’t think he should leave Matthew fully dressed on his bed. But then, Matthew wasn’t his child, and he didn’t want to do anything that might frighten the boy, which probably included tugging off his clothes.

Brendan arranged the blankets over Matthew loosely, thinking that if Matthew woke up in the middle of the night, he could change into his pajamas by himself.

He hurried back to the living room, but neither Ashley nor Boffo had moved. He did the same with Ashley as he had done with Matthew, thinking it was probably even more important to leave Ashley to dress herself.

When he returned to the living room, Boffo hadn’t moved, although one eye was half open.

“Well, dog,” he muttered. “Looks like it’s just you and me. We seem to be seeing a lot of each other, don’t we?”

Boffo’s tail thumped once on the floor; otherwise, he still didn’t move.

“I guess that’s once for yes, twice for no.”

Brendan sat on the couch, then rose to walk around the small living room, searching for the remote.

“You didn’t bury that somewhere, too, did you?” Brendan muttered as he lifted the newspapers on the coffee table, then the couch cushions. He finally found it on the carpet, half under the couch.

He sat, aimed, and began flipping channels.

“Has Shanna been going over your lessons? I hope you’ve been listening to her.” He already knew the answer. He’d seen an improvement in Boffo’s behavior, and so had his friend who ran the dog school. So he knew Boffo’s reply would have been a resounding yes.

He waited for Boffo to thump his tail once, but it didn’t happen. “So how have things been all week?”

The dog sighed, keeping his chin resting on his paws.

“That good, huh? Same here.”

Boffo shifted. Brendan wondered if perhaps one of the children had become restless. He turned his head and looked down the hall, but all was silent. When he turned back to Boffo, he saw that the dog had rolled onto his side.

“I guess that means no worries. That’s good, because I’ve never been a babysitter before. When I was a teen, I made extra money by cutting lawns, which is probably how I got my start into what I’m doing now.”

Boffo sighed again, and his eyes closed.

Brendan wondered what had happened, that he was now talking to a dog. It wasn’t even his dog.

“I want a glass of water,” a sleepy little voice called from down the hall.

Immediately Brendan rose, intending to get Ashley her glass of water before she woke up completely and wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep. But in his haste, he forgot about Boffo sprawled out on the floor. One foot caught under one of Boffo’s legs, nearly sending Brendan headfirst into the television. He recovered his balance, grumbled to himself, and continued into Ashley’s bedroom.

He stood in the doorway. “I’ll make you a deal. If you put your pajamas on and get back into bed real nice, I’ll get you a glass of water real fast.”

Ashley yawned. “Okay.”

Once in the kitchen, Brendan stared at the cupboards. He didn’t know where the glasses were, but he didn’t want to snoop. Even though he was doing Shanna a favor, he didn’t want to do anything that might be considered invasive.

He took a guess as to where the glasses were and guessed correctly. As he pulled a glass out, he smiled, noting how the contents were organized. The glasses were on the bottom shelf, mugs on the middle shelf, and on the top were obscure things that looked like they hadn’t been touched for ages. He had no trouble reaching anything on the top shelf, but he had a feeling Shanna did, which was why the top shelf appeared to be used only for storage.

He wondered what else she considered inaccessible.

To give Ashley more time to change, he indulged his curiosity. He bent his knees in a semi-squat until he guessed that he was now at Shanna’s height, and surveyed the small room.

Everything looked and felt different—as if he were standing in a hole.

Keeping his knees bent, he shuffled around the kitchen, gaining a new perspective.

“What are you doing? Are you okay?”

Brendan straightened as fast as if he’d jumped, then spun around to see Matthew in the entrance to the hall, staring at him as if he’d lost his marbles.

Feeling his ears grow hot, Brendan cleared his throat. “I thought I’d see what things looked like from your mother’s height.”

“Huh?”

Brendan looked down at Matthew. He didn’t know enough about children in general to be able to judge if Matthew was short or tall for his age. Shanna wasn’t really short, but she wasn’t tall, either. Judging from the heights of the women at church, he figured she was just a little shorter than average, but not much. Brendan, on the other hand, had been tall all his life, from elementary school to high school, always the tallest in every class. He’d always sat in the back row and had always been first pick for sports teams.

Brendan lowered himself so that one knee rested on the floor. He still hovered above Matthew, but there was nothing he could do. “When you grow up, you’re going to have to help your mom reach stuff. It’s a good thing to be able to help. Just remember how special your mom is and how good it is that God gave you such a special mom.”

Matthew’s eyes widened. “Tyler in my class doesn’t have a mom. Or a dad, either. He lives with his grandma.”

Brendan didn’t know, and he didn’t want to ask the reasons for that, because there were many possibilities. “How would you like to pray for Tyler tonight?”

Matthew yawned and nodded. Brendan patted his shoulder, then stood.

“As soon as I get that glass of water for your sister, we can say your prayers. Go to your room and put your pajamas on while I give this to Ashley, and I’ll be right there.”

Matthew wasted no time returning to his room. By the time Brendan walked into Ashley’s room, he could tell she was changed, because her clothes were scattered on the floor, including a sock on each side of the dresser, and she was sitting in the middle of the bed waiting for him. She noisily gulped down the water, then flopped down onto her back.

Brendan hoped the burst of energy wasn’t going to hinder Ashley from going back to sleep. He leaned forward to brush a lock of hair out of her eyes. “Would you like to say your prayers? When I was your age, my mom always prayed with me before bed.”

Ashley squeezed her eyes shut and folded her hands beneath her chin. “Dear God, thank You for my mommy and my brother and for Boffo and for all my toys, especially my bear, and for Mr. Brendan who is making our yard look really good. And thank You for our new slide and fort in the backyard, which is almost finished, amen.”

“Amen,” Brendan said in agreement and stood.

“Isn’t you gonna kiss me good night?”

“Uh. . .I guess so.”

He bent down and pressed a gentle kiss onto Ashley’s forehead. Just as he was about to straighten, she flung her arms around him as best she could reach, and squeezed with all her childlike strength, which wasn’t much, but it came from the depths of her little heart. “Good night, Mr. Brendan. I like you really lots. Is you gonna come back tomorrow?”

“Probably. I have another job to do someplace else, but it won’t take me long. Then I’ll be back to work on the fence for your mother. So yes. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Good. I misses you.”

He smiled. “I’ve missed you, too.” Strangely, he found he wasn’t saying the words as a reassuring platitude—he really meant them. “Now, if you’ll let me go, I’m going to go pray with your brother.”

She released him and rolled over onto her side. “Good night, Mr. Brendan,” she muttered, and settled in for the night.

“Good night, Ashley.”

On his way out, he pulled the door until it was only open a crack and made his way to Matthew’s room.

The second he knelt beside Matthew’s bed, Matthew closed his eyes and folded his hands beneath his chin, just as Ashley had, which made Brendan smile.

“Dear God, thank You for my mommy and thank You for Tyler’s grandma who takes care of him. Also thank You for Missus Kathy. . .” Matthew’s voice trailed off. His eyes sprang open, and he looked at Brendan. “Missus Kathy is your mommy, not your grandma, right?”

Brendan bit his tongue, wondering what his mother would think of Matthew’s innocent question. “Yes, Missus Kathy is my mommy.”

“Okay.” Matthew resumed his position and reclosed his eyes. “And thank You for Mr. Brendan’s mommy, Missus Kathy. She’s a nice lady, and she’s having fun painting our new fort. Thank You for the sweater she’s helping Mommy knit that they don’t think I know about, and thank You for the cookies Missus Kathy brought today. They were really yummy, amen.”

“My mother brought cookies?”

Matthew nodded. “Yes. She said they were your favorite cookies when you was my age.”

Brendan stared at the boy. “She brought you my favorite chocolate chip cookies? The ones with peanut butter in them?” When he was a child, he’d often made those cookies with his mother. After he moved out, she still made them for him; only she usually ended up eating too many before his next visit, then blamed Brendan that she’d gained five pounds. “Are there any left?”

“No. My mommy ate the last one. Missus Kathy said that when your daddy died, you were very sad, and cookies made you feel better.”

He didn’t know if it was exactly the cookies or the time spent with his mother making them. “Yes, I was sad for a long time.” He didn’t know what to say to Matthew, but he had been devastated when his father died. “You must miss your dad a lot” was the best he could come up with.

“I guess. He didn’t like to play with us, and lots of times he made Mommy cry. I didn’t like it when he made Mommy cry.”

Brendan’s stomach clenched. “Do you know why he made her cry?”

“He yelled at us a lot. He yelled at Mommy, too, and called her bad names. That made her cry lots of times.”

Matthew’s answer wasn’t specific, but it did give Brendan a little insight. It also made him wonder if such behavior ran in the family, after witnessing Matthew’s uncle Ray in action.

“I think it’s past the time that your mom said you should be in bed.”

“I’m in bed.”

“But you’re not sleeping. Close your eyes.”

Brendan gave Matthew a quick hug and returned to the living room.

Boffo was still lying on the carpet in front of the couch in the identical position he had been in when Brendan had left him nearly half an hour ago.

“Why can’t you be more like this during the day?” he muttered as he lowered the volume on the television.

Brendan flopped down on the couch and watched reruns until Boffo sprang to his feet and ran to the window. The sudden movement caused Brendan to wonder what was wrong, so he joined the dog at the window.

Nothing seemed amiss. The only movement was that his mother’s car had returned and both doors opened.

He stood at the top of the stairs. When the door opened, Shanna and his mother walked in, both carrying cake boxes.

“How come I didn’t get any cookies?” he called down the stairs. The amount of money he’d given his mother for the cake flashed through his mind, reminding him that he now had to go to the ATM on the way home. “I hope one of those boxes is for me.”

His mother had the nerve to laugh. “I hope you don’t mind, but I gave half the cake to Shanna and then took a bit for myself.” She set the box on the bottom step. “But don’t worry. There’s a nice piece left for you. I’m going home now. Will you be back here tomorrow so you can work on Shanna’s fence?”

“Yes.”

“Then good night. Here’s your cake, but you have to make your own cookies. I gave you the recipe years ago.”

Before he could think of an appropriate response, she was gone, leaving him alone with Shanna. She toed off her shoes and walked up the stairs, carrying the box containing half of what was supposed to be his cake.

“Were the kids okay? I can’t remember the last time I left them. They’ve never had anyone else put them to bed. I hope there wasn’t a lot of crying.”

Crying? The thought hadn’t occurred to him. It made him glad he hadn’t known that before she left.

She walked past him, then padded down the hall, still holding the box. She peeked into the bedrooms as if she needed confirmation that they really were sleeping soundly.

“There were no problems. Maybe they were thinking it was like when their dad put them to bed.”

“Their father never put them to bed,” she said, her voice suddenly sharp. “Most of the time he wasn’t home when it was their bedtime.”

“Oh. Did he work late shifts?”

“No. He just chose not to come home.”

It sounded like a line he wasn’t meant to cross, so Brendan changed the subject. “I think it’s time for me to leave. I’ll be back to work on your fence tomorrow, so I’ll probably see you sometime after lunch. I’ll just pick up the world’s most expensive piece of cake and see myself out.”