“Morning, Uncle Reiner.”
“Mornin’, yourself, baby doll.” Reiner flipped a just-add-water-to-the-mix pancake and turned to give his niece a peck on the cheek. Before he made contact, his mouth dropped open. “What in the— Where’s the rest of your shirt?”
Then his gaze zoomed in on the glint where the waist of her pants should have been. “A belly ring? When did that happen?”
Clutching the back of a kitchen chair, he pulled it out and dropped into it. They’d made it through an entire week, and he’d been feeling pretty damn smug. No more.
“Felicity, you cannot leave this house lookin’ like that.” He winced even as the words left his mouth. Shades of his father. But now that they were out, he’d stand behind them.
“Why?”
“Why? Because...” He waved the spatula in the air. “Because...your father would kill us both. Because...the boys will follow you home like you’re the Pied Piper. Because... you’re too young. Because I said so!”
Oh, jeez. Now he really sounded like his father.
“Lose the ring.”
“This one?” Cheekily, she pulled one of a half-dozen from her fingers.
“Cute. Very cute.” He pointed the spatula at her midriff. “That one.”
“Uncle Reiner,” she whined. “I thought you’d be different. More fun.”
“Yeah, well, that makes two of us. When did you get that, anyway? You didn’t have it before. Don’t you have to have an adult sign for somethin’ like that?”
“Sasha did it.”
“Ahhh.” Sasha Howard. The man-eater who lived next door. Aerobics teacher, vegan, divorced mother of dark-eyed, giggly, talk-a-mile-a-minute Beth who was Felicity’s age. Both girls were in Katie Sara’s class and had become fast friends.
Mama Howard was sending off signals, making it clear that she hoped she and bachelor father could become close friends, too. Very close friends. Damn if Reiner could figure why he was working so hard to avoid her.
The woman was hot! Something about her scared him, though. She was too desperate, maybe, and too into all this New Age stuff. Besides, something had to be off, or Mr. Howard would still be around, wouldn’t he?
Unless he was a creep like Woody Jensen. Reiner’d heard how he treated Rhonda, and it sure didn’t make the jerk much of a man in his book. No woman deserved that. And Rhonda... Hell, small as a mite, she’d been willing to take on anybody who’d hurt their Katie Sara her senior year. Rhonda was a real sweetheart.
Back to the sweetheart in front of him. His eyes fastened on the ring. “I don’t remember givin’ permission for that.”
“I told her you wouldn’t care. I’ve got all these other ones, so what’s one more? No big deal.”
He didn’t say a word.
“Fine.” She shrugged. “Go ahead. Take it out.” She lifted the hem of her shirt, her way too short shirt.
“Take it— Ah, jeez.” He rose, moved toward her, hand extended. Then he withdrew. “Ah, jeez,” he repeated. “I can’t pull it out.”
“Why?”
“It’ll hurt.”
“No, it won’t.” She stepped closer to him, all wide-eyed innocence.
How many belly rings had he played with? Run his tongue over? Found sexy? But they’d all been on grown women.
His stomach flip-flopped at the idea of the metal piercing his niece’s tender skin, at the idea of extracting it from that skin. Gamely, he reached out again. His hand trembled only slightly, making it inches from the little gold hoop before he cried uncle.
“I can’t.” So much for his manhood.
Felicity laughed and removed the ring with one quick yank.
Every ounce of blood drained from his face. Light-headed, he put a hand to his sweaty neck.
“Uncle Reiner?”
His niece’s face swam in front of him as he fell back onto the chair. Big bad football player. Geesh!
“Uncle Reiner!”
He smelled it before her shout registered. The pancake. The damn thing was on fire!
He rushed across the kitchen, slid the griddle from the burner of his state-of-the-art stove, and began pounding the flapjack with the spatula, thankful his decorator had invested in stainless steel rather than plastic.
The worst of the flames beaten into submission, he wrapped a potholder around the pan’s handle and, sucking one burned finger, carried the whole mess to the sink. Felicity turned on the water and drowned her breakfast.
Coughing and gagging, they rushed to the doors and windows and threw them open. The house belched smoke, and they fanned to hasten its departure. Even in the haze, Reiner managed to find the obnoxious, bleating smoke alarm and flip it off.
Red-eyed, runny-nosed, and smelling to high heaven, they collapsed onto the porch steps. One look at each other and they burst out laughing.
Wispy smoke drifted from the kitchen windows.
“Sure hope the neighbors don’t call the fire department.”
“You got that right.” Reiner rubbed his hands over his face. “What a mess.”
Then, hip propped on the railing, he nailed his niece with what he hoped was a no-nonsense look. “Okay. What gives?”
“Huh?”
“The outfit. Exactly what look are you going for here? Because I gotta tell you, you look like a...” He stopped, rubbed his earlobe.
“What?”
“You know, this is a conversation you really should be having with your mother.”
“But she’s not here.”
“No, she’s not,” he said forlornly.
“She left me with you.”
“Heaven help us all.”
“So, what do I look like?”
“Um...oh, boy.” He swallowed, started over. “Have you heard the term lady of the evening?”
“You mean a hooker? You think I look like a hooker?”
He blew out his breath. This conversation, this whole day was going right down the toilet. Maybe he should just climb back into bed.
“You know what? It’s early. Let’s both go take another quick shower. Shampoo the smoke out of our hair and change clothes.” He dared her to argue.
As she laid a hand on the doorjamb, he said, “Get those letters you wrote for your mom and dad, and I’ll mail them today. We’ll still have time to pick up Beth and head to McDonald’s for breakfast before school. How’s that sound?”
“Fine.”
Fine? He’d condemned himself to breakfast at McDonald’s with two teenage girls who’d either giggle or pout their way through the meal and all she could say was fine?
Felicity scuffed her boot over one of the redwood deck boards. “Ms. McMichaels says we need to explore, to find ourselves. Discover who we really are.”
“Oh, really? She’s behind all this?” He twirled his hand, indicating her all black, too skimpy, too baggy, too everything get-up. “What nearly burned down the house this morning?”
“No. That would be you being an old fuddy-duddy. Who’d have guessed?”
She walked into the house, leaving him speechless. An old fuddy-duddy? Reiner Broderick? Now that hurt! Did she have any idea how many women threw themselves at him daily? Well, maybe not daily.
Not here in Paradox.
Certainly not Katie Sara.
Not that he wanted her to. They were finished.
Sasha Howard did. And, oh, he wished she wouldn’t.
Gina Altenburg Crandall Smith Denlinger did. Now, there was trouble with a capital T.
A cool shower. He headed indoors, into the smoke and the mess that seemed to be his life.
Fuddy-duddy! F—Fudge!
When they arrived at school, Reiner turned into the parking lot rather than stop at the curb.
“What are you doing?” Felicity asked.
“Thought maybe I’d sit in on your class today.”
A look of absolute mortification passed over her face. “You can’t!”
“Sure I can. I’ll stop by the office, pick up a pass, and bingo. I’m in.”
“I can’t believe you’d do this to me.”
“I’m not doing anything to you. I’m sittin’ in on a class. I want to see what’s being taught.”
“Baloney. It’s because of my belly ring.”
He opened his mouth, then shut it. He refused to lie. It was. In part.
The girls refused to walk with him. No problem. He breezed into the office. “Hey, Rhonda.”
Startled, she looked up from her computer. “Reiner?” With a delighted squeal, she bounded around the counter and hugged him. “Gosh, it’s good to see you.”
Then, she backed up, straightening her top. Though the smile cooled a few degrees, Rhonda being Rhonda, it still welcomed. Could she know Katie Sara wouldn’t be happy to see him here?
“What can I do for you?”
“I’d like a visitor’s pass.”
“A visitor’s pass?”
“Yeah, you know, so I can sit in on a class.”
Rhonda’s face paled and lost all its bubbly. “What class did you have in mind?”
He leaned an elbow on the counter. “Sex Ed. My niece is enrolled, and I thought I’d see what they’re doin’.”
“Reiner, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
He met her panic-stricken eyes. “It’s not personal.”
“Tell yourself that if it makes you feel better.”
“Rhonda.” His brow rose. “I have the right.”
“Yes, you do.” Her voice was tight. “I also thought you still had a few brains inside that thick skull but apparently not. They must’ve all got knocked loose and are laying around on some football field.”
She picked up a pass, filled it out, scrawled her name on the bottom. Slamming it on the counter, she said, “Big mistake. Don’t come cryin’ to me when this blows up in that handsome face of yours.”
She returned to her computer, back to him. He’d been dismissed. Doubts fired from all sides. She was right, and he knew it.
Yet he picked up the visitor’s badge, peeled off the backing, and slapped it on his polo shirt. From the corner of his eye, he saw Rhonda sidle up to the intercom, no doubt giving Katie Sara a head’s-up. Good. Fine. It would be better that way.
The place had shrunk in the years he’d been gone. He remembered the ceilings higher, the lockers big enough to stuff in a freshman and all his books. The halls seemed narrower, but they were still the same throw-up green. Instead of the rush he’d expected, a sense of loss, of sadness wormed its way into his gut.
Then he found himself outside Ms. McMichaels’ door, his hands as sweaty as any first-dayer’s. Her back to him, she wrote the day’s work on the whiteboard. No more offering to clean the erasers for a few brownie points. What a gyp. And the poor kids didn’t even know.
Her slim skirt, the color of the sandy beach at his Hilton Head place, ended a couple inches above her knees. A short-sleeved black top skimmed her torso, nipped in at the waist. That dark tumble of hair he’d once reveled running his fingers through glistened with streaks of gold and red in the sunlight that poured through the large paned windows.
He cleared his throat. “Katie Sara?”
She took her time and finished what she was writing. She capped the marker and laid it carefully on the tray. Only then did she face him.
Stunning. His knuckles tightened on the jamb.
“What are you doing here, Reiner?”
After several tries, he untied his tongue. “Sittin’ in on a class.”
“Why?”
He blinked. Why? God, she was gorgeous. The neutral colors provided a backdrop for her own vibrant coloring and made her eyes sparkle.
“Reiner?”
“Huh?” Not a coherent thought formed in his head.
“Some of the students might be uncomfortable with you here. We’ve finally reached a point where the kids are sharing. I’m afraid having someone new in the room—you particularly—will compromise that.”
“I’ll sit in the back, Ace, and won’t say a word. Promise. Little mouse in the corner. You’ll never even know I’m here.”
She opened her mouth to argue the point, but the bell rang.
As the students filed in, Reiner, true to his word, moved to the back. He did not, however, go unnoticed. Katie Sara had to start class several times before she had everyone’s attention.
When Felicity slouched in her seat, Katie Sara decided not to notice. Instead, she gave the girl big points for showing up. If her uncle had decided to sit in on her Sex Ed class, not a single doubt in her mind she’d have gone AWOL.
“Yesterday, we talked about abstinence and the need to claim ownership of our own actions. We ran out of time before we could get into it too deeply. Today we’ll discuss some of the reasons you should refrain from indulging certain appetites.”
A noise, somewhere between a snort and a bark, erupted from the back corner.
“Comment, Mr. Broderick?”
He threw her a killer grin. “No, ma’am.”
Felicity slid a little farther down in her chair. She’d need a floor pillow soon.
Katie Sara ignored him as if he were no more important than a gnat. “No matter how strong your resolve, there will be times when you’ll feel pressured to give in. That’s when you need to stay strong. Remember what we’ve talked about this summer. Girls, you—”
“Oh, come on.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re handin’ out the female point of view.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah.”
“And we should listen to your point of view, Mr. Broderick, because...”
“I’m an expert.”
“On sex?”
“Yeah.” His face flushed. “Ah, no. Well—”
“Maybe you’d like to share your wealth of knowledge with the class, Mr. Broderick.”
The boys in the class started to chant, egging him on. Reluctantly, he stood.
Felicity groaned. “Uncle Reiner, you promised you’d be quiet.”
“I have an obligation, Felicity, to make sure you get this right. There are two sides to this thing, you know.”
“Arghhh. Ms. McMichaels gives us both sides.” She slunk lower still, till only her eyes and forehead were visible over her desktop. “I’m telling Auntie Belham.”
“Oh, for—”
“Uh-uh. School appropriate language,” Katie Sara admonished.
“You know what?” He glanced at his watch and slapped his forehead. “I hadn’t noticed the time. My agent’s calling this mornin’. As much as I hate to do this, I’ve got to run. Maybe I can take a rain-check on the chat.”
“Maybe you can,” Katie Sara said.
“Felicity, I’ll pick you and Beth up later, okay?”
She mumbled something, and he scrambled out the door.
Katie Sara looked out over her classroom. “What do you say we start over?”
Felicity, who had wiggled upright again, uttered a heartfelt, “Amen.”
He’d made an ass out of himself. Then he’d compounded it by calling his agent while he was in a rotten mood and arguing over his new book contract. He was throwing interceptions all over the field.
Even Dirk Maverick, the sleuth in his on-going mystery series, wouldn’t behave today. He’d given up trying to write and decided instead to do a little shopping. Nathan had written in his last letter that they desperately needed sunscreen and Chap stick. Might as well use today to put together another care package.
Auntie Belham said he could get everything he needed in the old Woolworth’s store. Amazing the place was still in business.
Katie Sara decided to walk down Main Street before heading home. The old Woolworth’s drew her. It had been ages.
Stepping through the doors was like stepping through a time warp. Dim, overhead fluorescent lights buzzed. The wooden floor, buckled in places, was scarred from the tread of years’ worth of feet.
Evening in Paris perfume. Rows and rows of silk and plastic flowers. Dishes. Panty hose. Bubbles to blow into the wind. Coloring books and crayons. Doan’s Little Liver Pills.
The old soda fountain. She glanced at the menu. What the heck? Why not have lunch?
First, though, she needed to wash her hands.
An older woman and two young children occupied the women’s room, tucked into a back corner. Katie Sara smiled and moved to one of the sinks.
The boy, about four, marched to a stall. “This is private.”
She heard the snick of the lock, the almost instant wail that followed.
“My door’s stuck. I can’t get out.” Each word a little louder, a little more panic-filled.
“’Cause you locked it,” said the other child, a girl about the same age.
“See the little button you turned?” the harried-looking woman asked.
“Uh-huh.”
“Turn it again, and your door will open.”
While Katie Sara watched in the mirror, the young girl beside her at the sink carefully removed both shoes. As the young boy walked sheep-faced out of the stall, the girl’s lower lip trembled, and she started to whimper.
“What’s wrong, Polly?”
“I can’t get my shoes on.”
The woman rubbed her forehead and kept one hand on the boy. “Why are they off?”
“I had to wash my hands, Grandma.”
Grandma sighed. “Silly me. Of course.” She shot Katie Sara a look and shook her head. “Be a cold day in you-know-where before I offer to baby-sit for both my daughters-in-law on the same day again.”
“Can I get my hair wet?”
Attention diverted, the boy had escaped Grandma’s grasp. Before she could answer, he stuck his head under the faucet and came up shaking like a wet dog.
“Patrick!”
“Oh, my gosh!” Katie Sara backed away, laughing, then grabbed a handful of paper towels. “I’ll dry him off.”
“I’d really appreciate it.”
After Grandma tied the last shoelace, she stood and combed her grandson’s hair.
Polly had discovered the sanitary napkin dispenser. Twirling its dials, she asked, “What’s this?”
“I have no idea,” Grandma lied with a straight face and without a hint of remorse.
Katie Sara left them, a grin on her face, hopeful Grandma would make it home sane. Polly and Patrick. What a handful!
And then that yearning for children, a family of her own, rolled over her like a tidal wave. She leaned against the wall for a moment as she took deep, slow, cleansing breaths, willing away the feeling.
She was okay. Again. Her composure was shaky, but intact.
“Katie Sara.”
Snip went that thin thread she’d been holding on by.
Reiner, of the designer clothes and sunglasses. In Woolworth’s?
Shopping basket slung over his arm, he did a double take. “Katie Sara, you don’t look so good. Maybe you should sit down.”
“Mommy! Mommy!” Two excited voices chirped from behind just before she was tackled around the knees and nearly taken down.
The horror on Reiner’s face registered as a second round of “Mommy, Mommy” began.
She knelt. “Polly. Patrick. Look at you. Shoes on, hair fairly dry. You’re looking good.”
Grandma came hurrying up to pry them loose. “You little monkeys. What is wrong with you today?”
The two giggled.
“Come on. Tell this saint of a lady good-bye. We’ve done enough damage today. Time to go home.” She winked at Katie Sara. “And aren’t you glad about that?”
Grinning, Katie Sara glanced toward a thunderstruck Reiner. “Actually, it’s been fun. Thanks.”
She hugged the kids, who gave her noisy kisses on the cheeks. Walking backward, they left the store, blowing more kisses.
“What was all that? Mommy?”
Hugging the memory and the feel of the children’s kisses close, she brushed hair from her face. “I haven’t got a clue. Apparently, it’s my day for surprises.”
“All right.” He set his shopping basket on a pile of yarn and took a deep breath. “Let’s get this out of the way. Since I haven’t yet found a recipe for crow that I particularly like, I’ll eat it plain.” His cobalt eyes met hers dead-on. “I apologize for coming into your class today.”
“I don’t think it’s me you should apologize to.”
“I’m not goin’ back and apologizing to the whole class.” He dug in. “I’d OD on that much crow.”
“Even I’m not that unreasonable.” She shook her head. “I mean Felicity. You owe her an apology.”
“You’re probably right. But I’m startin’ with you. I messed with your profession, and that’s a no-no. I’m sorry.” His eyes took on the color of stormy seas. “It won’t happen again.”
“God, you’re good.”
He grinned, dimples winking. “Am I forgiven?”
“Forgiven?” She regarded him thoughtfully. “Your apology’s accepted.”
“I’ll settle for that. For now.”
She tipped her head at his basket. “Shopping?”
He explained about his brother’s supply list. “Kind of like school shoppin’. How about you?”
“I came in for a walk down Memory Lane and decided to stay for lunch.” Argh. She could have cut out her tongue.
“Have you eaten yet, Mommy, or did the kids keep you too busy?”
Ohhh, she wanted to lie. Her traitorous lips, though, worked for a government of their own. “No, I was headed there when Patrick and Polly waylaid me.”
Over cheeseburgers and malts, they kept it light. They skirted anything and everything personal and talked instead about fellow classmates and old acquaintances.
“Question,” Katie Sara said.
“Shoot.”
“Why did you come to class today? The truth. No BS. I mean, Felicity really isn’t your concern.”
“What do you mean?”
She played with her straw wrapper, folding it accordion-style. “I’d think Belhamina would be the one to come see me if there was a problem.”
Reiner tensed. “Why would she do that?”
Tossing the paper aside, she frowned at him. “Because she’s the one directly involved with Felicity on a day-to-day basis.” She swiveled on her stool to face him, readjusted when their knees touched. “I know you mean well, and you probably stop by your aunt’s house as often as you can.”
She nodded toward the basket at their feet. “Putting a package together for your brother and sister-in-law is wonderful, but you don’t understand what it’s like to be a thirteen-year-old girl. What it’s like to live with one. You—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Stop right there.” He held up his hand. “Don’t say another word you might have to eat later. I’ve already had my daily ration of crow. Now I’m gonna do you a favor and keep you from cookin’ up some of your own.”
“I—”
“Uh-uh. My turn, professor.” He laid a hand on either side of her, swung the stool directly in line with his, and boxed her in between his knees.
A trickle of perspiration made its way down her back, even in the air-conditioning.
“Felicity lives with me, not with Bel.”
“What?”
“That’s why I’m here. In Paradox. Why I bought the house. Originally, the plans called for her to stay with Bel, but she’s not as young as she used to be. A thirteen-year-old’s got a lot of energy. We huddled, switched to Plan B, and decided to send in a substitute. That would be me. I’m it until Mom and Dad come back.”
He said it lightly, but Katie Sara heard maturity, responsibility, and caring in his voice. It rattled her. It shook the cage and messed with the tidy box she’d tucked Reiner in.
He got Felicity up in the morning? Saw her off to school? He wasn’t playing fair! How could she fight a Reiner who’d willingly left his devil-may-care life behind to play bachelor father? It blew her mind.
Time. She needed time to analyze this. Reiner had suddenly become very complicated.
Regrouping, she said, “You might work on Felicity’s clothing choices. Some of her things are a little—”
“She dresses like a hooker.”
Her mouth dropped open. “I don’t think I’d go that far.”
“I would and, believe me, we’ve had a chat about it.” He drew rings on the counter with the condensation from his glass. “Hey, Katie Sara, I’m doin’ my best.”
“Keep at it.” She twisted her knees and nudged his thigh aside, then slid from her stool. “Thanks for lunch, Reiner.”
His hand shot out to cover hers. “How about dinner tonight?”
“No, thanks. Best not to go there.”
His jaw tightened. “Maybe not.”
“And Reiner?”
“Yeah?”
“Do us both a favor. Regardless of the reason, keep your promise. Don’t show up in my class again.”
She left Woolworth’s and stepped out into Georgia’s humid summer heat. The whole state had become one huge sauna. If only she could be more like Polly and Patrick. If only she could wrap herself around Reiner and cover him in kisses. But she couldn’t. Never again.
She’d do them both a favor, and stay far, far away from Paradox’s sexiest bachelor father. Their paths might run parallel, maybe even intersect occasionally, but that was that. No overlapping and no playing house for them.
Now, she’d go home and feed Chia. Then she and her white ball of fur would sit in the backyard, maybe even try out that new hammock, and write tomorrow’s lesson plan.
Topic: False Perceptions.