Callie Endicott - A Father For The Twins

She questioned whether he was telling the truth. Something about his manner made her think he saw her negatively, though it might be her imagination, of which she had plenty. A vivid imagination was how she stayed sane in the midst of complex computer programming issues.

She shook Adam’s hand and went back to where the kids were waiting.

Her palm tingled from contact with the dynamic former model and she reminded herself that men like Adam didn’t go for geeks like her, which is what she preferred. After all, she’d already tried to be the proverbial square peg in a round hole and she was much happier with her life the way it was now.

CHAPTER TWO

TIFFANY CHATTERED EXCITEDLY all the way back to the small Victorian house that Cassie had bought years ago. It was tight living there with two teenage kids, but they got by. Glen and Tiffany used the bedrooms, converted family room and bath upstairs, while she’d moved down to the ground floor.

Someday she hoped to live in the mountains, but for now she was afraid she’d be ineffective as a website designer if she became too much of a hermit. Her clients wanted someone in touch with modern culture. Yet it was also a question of economics—the kind of mountain home she wanted cost money, her business was relatively new and now she was raising Glen and Tiffany. Her niece and nephew were more important than saving for another house.

Glen was quiet, no doubt processing the Moonlight Ventures offer to represent him, but Tiffany jumped and let out a little squeal of excitement.

“Hey, Aunt Cassie,” she declared, “when I make lots of money, we can buy a bigger place.”

“Nope,” Cassie replied serenely. “Anything you make will go directly into a trust fund. No matter how successful you are, there won’t be any sports cars at sixteen and no buying of houses.”

“It isn’t about me, I want you to have a bigger place and an awesome car like the one you had to get rid of when we moved in here.”

Cassie had traded her sporty convertible for a larger sedan before the kids arrived, wanting something safer and more solid. The kids had noticed the change, but she hadn’t realized they blamed themselves for the switch to a different model.

“That’s really sweet of you, but I prefer the car I have now. It’s newer and gets much better gas mileage than the other one.”

“Then what do you want?”

Cassie cupped her niece’s chin in the palm of her hand. “I don’t need anything, except to protect your income so that it’s ready to help your dreams come true.”

“She wants to make sure Mom can’t get her fingers on any dough we make,” Glen observed.

Cassie’s stomach dropped. She didn’t want the kids to feel their mother was a terrible person, though accepting Marie for what she was might be helpful to them.

Tiffany’s mouth turned down. “Is that the problem? Because Mom might take our money for booze?”

“I simply want anything you earn to be there for your future,” Cassie explained carefully. “This way, nothing can happen that we don’t expect.”

“Uh, okay.” Like Glen, Tiffany internalized and usually didn’t say much until she’d thought it through, such as her comment about the car.

* * *

LATER THAT EVENING, Glen came in as Cassie finished cleaning the kitchen.

“I’m gonna do that modeling thing,” he told her.

“You thought the guys at school might give you a hard time. How will you feel about that?”

He made a face. “Not so hot. But money for medical school sounds terrific, and it might be the best way to earn it. Besides, I hate mowing lawns and yanking weeds and that’s the only other kind of job I’m gonna get for a while.”

Something Adam had said came back to Cassie...that at the twins’ age, they didn’t have many work opportunities. It was true. Unless they had a video go viral on social media or came up with a brilliant entrepreneurial scheme, their income-earning potential was limited. In Glen’s case, it was largely offering his services as a general garden helper. Even when he turned sixteen, it would mostly be minimum wage.

“We can’t know how much you’d earn at modeling,” she warned, wanting him to be realistic. “It’s probable that only a few people make the huge bucks.”

“Maybe, but I’ve been thinking about what Tiff said earlier. If we make some money, it shouldn’t all go into a trust fund. We should help around here.”

His eyes were serious and Cassie hated knowing he’d needed to grow up faster than other kids.

“That isn’t your job. You’re thirteen and—”

“Almost fourteen.”

“In a few months. But it doesn’t make any difference. You’re a kid and it isn’t your responsibility to provide for yourself.”

“That isn’t fair to you.”

“Right, it isn’t fair that I get the pleasure of having my niece and nephew living with me the past year because my sister has a problem. And it isn’t fair that you don’t get to have the mom and dad you deserve. But if you’re worried about houses and cars, don’t. The bedrooms aren’t large and you and Tiff have to share a bathroom, but that’s no different than any family that has to make do with the space available. Do you dislike this house? I know it’s a quiet neighborhood, but there are families with kids your age on the street.”

Glen shook his head. “Your place is loads better than our tiny apartment in San Diego, and we really like Seattle. It was so amazing when you told the judge that you wanted us to live with you. I’d figured they’d split us up, and like, you know, all the bad stuff you see on TV about foster homes.”

“I’m sure most foster homes are fine, but I thought this would be best and I love having the two of you with me. Okay, in a few days I’ll meet with Adam Wilding and get the representation agreements. Uncle Orville will take a look at them and who knows? Next week, you might be posing in front of a camera.”

“Uh, yeah.”

Cassie studied his expression; he still seemed uncertain. “Are you sure this is what you want?” She didn’t want to push him one way or another.

“I’m sure.” Glen gave a crooked grin. “I’ve been looking at how much medical school costs and it could choke a pig, the way Uncle Orville says.”

Orville Calloway, her godfather, had become the twins’ honorary uncle. “Okay. But if you or Tiff change your minds in the future, we’ll deal with it.”

“Thanks.” Glen reached over and gave her an awkward, boyish hug.

* * *

ELIZABETH WILDING FINISHED the dishes and looked at her husband reading a newspaper at the kitchen table. Ever since he’d retired, she could hardly get him out of the house. Part of the time he fussed around “fixing” things that weren’t broken, the rest of the time he was just sitting, usually in the room where she was trying to get something done.

She wanted him to enjoy his retirement but not to slow down completely.

“Dear, why don’t you call Mr. Villareal and see if he needs help with that clogged drain he mentioned?” Elizabeth suggested.

Mr. Villareal was their neighbor on the corner and he was quite elderly, though he still managed to put out dozens of luminarias every Christmas in memory of his wife and only child who’d died in a car accident.

“Took care of it yesterday,” Dermott said without looking up from the newspaper. “Don’t you remember?”

She recalled him being gone for fifteen minutes or so, which hardly seemed long enough to unplug a sink. But Dermott was awfully talented with a pipe wrench.

“I’m sure he would have appreciated having you stay and talk.”

“You talk to Hector almost every day.”

Oh my, her husband could be dense.