Mitch checked the image on the LED screen on his camera. “Okay, everyone look this way,” he instructed.
Three of the four identically dressed children obeyed. The youngest, a strong-willed two-year-old, bolted from his siblings and ran off.
“Nathan, get back here!” his mother cried. The older children groaned. They’d tried half a dozen times to set up the shot for the family Christmas card, and each time the baby of the family had ruined the pose.
Mitch counted to ten. It was a good thing this was his last appointment of the day. This group had already run twenty minutes over. He’d offered the Christmas portrait special hoping to drum up more business for his studio. The response had been lukewarm, and the clientele apparently didn’t appreciate the need for punctuality. This particular family had arrived almost twenty minutes late, and their youngest child had not been cooperative. He’d be lucky to get even one shot the family could use for a Christmas card.
Finally, the toddler cooperated when Mitch put a puppet on his left hand and set it on top of the camera. “Smile at Ducky!” Noting the interest on the little one’s face, he clicked furiously. He’d make some of them work, even if he had to edit a little bit.
“Mom, aren’t we going to be late for church?” one of the older children asked.
“We’re not going tonight,” the mother answered. “I figured it would be okay to miss this time, since it was only the first rehearsal for the Christmas pageant.”
Angie! Mitch felt his blood turned to ice in his veins. I should have picked her up a half hour ago!
“I am so sorry, Mrs. Michaels. I need to go now. My daughter is at rehearsal at church and I am very late picking her up. Just let yourselves out, and I will contact you tomorrow so you can look at the proofs.”
Without waiting for a response, he dashed out the door, not even caring about leaving his expensive equipment within reach of a curious toddler. He leaped into his car, starting the ignition before he even had the door closed, and raced down the street to the church.
Zutphen Chapel was only three blocks away, but the drive seemed to take forever. He smacked his hand against the steering wheel, mentally replacing the wheel with his head. How could he have been so stupid? There were dangers to his little girl, even in the country. Why hadn’t he set the alarm on his phone so that he’d remember to pick her up? If Melinda ever got wind of this, she wouldn’t hesitate to use the information against him. The thought nearly had him hyperventilating.
The parking lot was dark, but there was a light over the side door. Was Angie still there? Surely she wouldn’t have tried walking home alone, would she?
And then he saw her, sitting on the bench next to the door. The fist around his heart loosened its hold. His little angel sat, cheerfully chatting with the lady from the grocery store. Sophie.
He pulled up to the door and jumped out. He wrapped his arms around Angie and hugged for all he was worth.
“Honey, I am so sorry! I shouldn’t have made that appointment tonight.”
“That’s okay, Daddy. Me and Sophie were talking.”
He looked up. The woman really was easy on the eyes. But, he reminded himself, he was a dad first. Giving himself a mental slap, he smiled. “Thank you so much for staying with her. I’m sorry to keep you here so long. It won’t happen again.”
“It’s no problem at all, Mr. Carson. Angie and I had a nice talk.”
Mr. Carson. Well, I guess she put me in my place. I guess she thinks I’m old enough to be her father.
“Umm, well, I appreciate the fact that you didn’t leave her here alone or let her walk home.”
The girl looked affronted. “I would never do that!”
“I — I didn’t mean to imply you would. I just meant — well, thanks.”
“Sure. Well, I’ll be going now.” Sophie ducked her head in the church door and called out, “You can turn the lights out now, Sam. I’m leaving.” Then she headed across the parking lot.
“Wait! Where is your car?”
She stopped and turned. “I walked. My sister just lives three streets away.”
“It’s dark. And the streets are very far apart. Why don’t I take you there?”
“Oh, I’ll be all right—”
“Please. I insist. It’s the least I can do after keeping you here.”
She pursed her lips, and the sight made his own lips part in anticipation. He clamped his mouth shut before he started drooling. Clenching his fists, he smacked one against his thigh. Maybe if he hit himself hard enough he could get rid of the ridiculous thoughts in his head. Thoughts he hadn’t had since he was in high school.
Apparently she decided he was safe enough. “Well, okay, if you’re sure it’s not too much trouble.”
“None at all. Right, Angie?”
“Right.”
Mitch opened the back door so Angie could climb into her seat and buckle in. Then he opened the passenger door for Sophie, who gave him a curious look before climbing in. Didn’t the local men open doors for ladies?
When everyone was buckled in, he started the car again. He turned to Sophie. “Which way?”
“You can take the back exit out of the lot and go down Birch Street then turn right on Elm. My sister and her family live a few blocks down there.”
Mitch pointed the car in the direction Sophie indicated. But the house was more than a few blocks.
“Uh, this is not what I call a few blocks.”
“Sure it is. It only takes me fifteen minutes to run to the church.”
“You usually run at night?”
“Well, no.”
“Glad to hear it.” Nice going, he told himself. Even he could tell he was coming off like a dad. Time to switch subjects. “Uh, so how did rehearsal go?”
“Not too bad.”
There’s a non-answer, if I ever heard one. “Could be better, huh?”
“Oh, there are always challenges when you start a new project.”
“Daddy, there were a couple of really naughty boys,” Angie piped up from the back seat. “They were knocking over chairs and they climbed up on the minister’s wood thing, and one boy even climbed up the curtains and tore one down.”
“They tore down the curtains?”
“Yes, Doc VanEss checked them out for concussions because they ran headfirst into each other, and when he sent them back to the choir room, they ran through the sanctuary and started to tear it apart.”
“Really? Where were their parents?”
“Their mom was probably at home, resting. Their dad has visitation rights, but he often doesn’t show up. Grandfather was there, and I’m sure he had words with them. But those boys are out of control. I’m going to have to talk to my sister about this. I can’t run the rehearsals alone, not with thirty kids. And those two boys have enough energy for ten of the others.”
“That sounds like a tall order. Makes you wonder how teachers do it every day.”
Sophie sat up in her seat and squealed. “That’s it!”
The brakes screeched as Mitch slammed his foot down. “That was it? I passed your house?”
She laughed. “No, it’s another block and a half down on the right. I meant you just gave me an idea how I can get this to work. I need to talk to the meanest, strictest teacher I ever had. Maybe she can help me whip this group into shape.”
“Is she really mean?” Angie’s timid voice came from the back seat.
Mitch looked up in the rear view mirror and tried to connect with his daughter to reassure her, but Sophie beat him to it.
“She’s only mean to naughty kids, Angie. To kids who behaved themselves, she was a really nice lady. I’m sorry I scared you.”
Angie nodded and settled back in her seat.
For a youngster, she really knows how to handle kids, he thought.
Youngster. Yeah, right.
~~~~
Mitch tucked his daughter into bed and kissed her goodnight. He checked the nightlight before turning out the light in her room, leaving the door open a crack. Most nights Angie slept well, but once in awhile, she needed her daddy. And he had no intention of getting lost in the dark trying to reach his daughter.
He had no regrets about leaving the fast-paced life he’d led in Chicago and trading it for the peace and quiet of Zutphen. But in Chicago he’d had help. There had been people hired for anything his family needed — cooking, cleaning, advice about raising a child. Here, he was on his own. He’d made a few acquaintances, but no good friends. Sometimes he felt a longing, a need for adult companionship. Someone to help him get though some of the drudgery of daily life. Another person to help him make decisions about caring for Angie. He needed… a connection.
He turned on his fancy one-cup coffee maker and prepared a cup of coffee. Other than his camera equipment, it was one of the few conveniences he’d kept from his former life. Thanks to today’s appointments, he had work to do, and he’d learned that working at night meant he didn’t have to stop working to pick Angie up from school or tend to her other needs. Knowing it would take a few minutes for the water to heat enough to start brewing, he went down to his studio and surveyed the chaos left after his last session. The camera was still on the tripod, and the screen was still in one piece. He checked the rest of his equipment, sighing with relief each time he found things as they should be. Soon he had the pictures transferred to his computer and began the task of choosing and editing photos to show to the families. If the customers liked his work, hopefully he’d get some referrals to get his new business going.
But as he scrolled through the pictures, the faces blurred. Instead of a family of five, he saw a cute young blonde with expressive green eyes. And he remembered the excitement he’d felt sitting next to her in the car, and the sense of loss when she’d gotten out. Good grief, he sounded like a teenager.
Coffee, that’s what he needed. His cup should be done brewing by now. He got up and went back to get it. The spacious country kitchen seemed cavernous compared to the tiny but functional area in his Chicago condo. Of course, he hadn’t needed much room. The cook had prepared meals for the three of them and had pretty much banished him from using most of the appliances. There, he’d been allowed to use the coffee maker and microwave, but not much else.
Here, the coffeepot looked lonely on the six-foot counter. In fact, the entire space looked lonely. He pulled his mug from the tray. After taking a sip, he cast an eye around his home. Though he and Angie had moved in two months ago, the place still looked empty. Not at all like a home where people lived.
He’d photographed plenty of country kitchens and tried to think what was missing. His mother said the rooms needed color. Maybe he’d invite her to come for a few days and help him decorate. She’d like that. She’d fill the place with knick-knacks and curtains and… stuff. Stuff to make people feel comfortable. To make this place feel like a home.
More than anything, he wanted to make the house a home for Angie. He remembered visiting his uncle and aunt during the holidays when he and his siblings were young. And he remembered the laughter, the happiness, the sense of belonging. A lifetime ago, he’d hoped to create some of that feeling with Sarah. But her idea of family had been so different from his own. Meeting her parents should have given him a clue. An only child of wealthy elitists, she’d been raised with strict rules and expectations. Happiness wasn’t one of them.
He couldn’t let his mother-in-law succeed in taking Angie away. He didn’t want his beautiful daughter to be molded into a clone of Melinda Billingsworth. He’d do anything to prevent that.
But he couldn’t keep his daughter if he couldn’t support her. Time to get to work. He took another sip of his coffee and carried it back to his office.