Cheryl Wolverton - A Father's Love

“Well, do something,” he finally said.

“Like what?” she asked.

“You’re a woman. Don’t you know what to do about these things?”

“That’s a sexist remark, Mr. Stevens.”

Realizing she didn’t intend to move from her position as an observer, he stepped forward. The sounds stopped. He raised an eyebrow as he peered into the laundry basket that contained the two toddlers.

“Well?” Sarah prodded.

He shot her a look that told her to mind her tongue and took another step forward. “They’re sorta small, aren’t they?”

“I guess. But you would know better than me.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “And what do you mean by that? ”

Sarah had been with the household since Max was five so Max’s scowl didn’t faze her in the least Plopping her hands on her ample hips, she replied, “What do you think I mean? They look just like…look, there’s a note.”

Max plucked the piece of paper off the side of the laundry basket and began to read:

Dear Max,

I had no one else to leave them with. I’m in trouble, and have to leave. I know you’ll take care of them and love them for me. Please don’t tell anyone the secret I’ve always thought they looked like my knight in shining armor. I’ve never forgotten you. Thank you. You’re a kind man. P.S. Meet Maxwell Robert and Madeline Renée.

Max stared in disbelief at the note until a gurgle from the basket drew his attention.

Maxwell and Madeline?

Two cherubic faces stared back at him. He wasn’t sure how old they were but he knew they were too big to be newborns. And the writer of the note was right. They did look like him. They both had dark hair and one had deep brown eyes, hinting at a Cajun lineage.

But his?

Impossible! He knew that for certain. He wasn’t promiscuous.

“Well, Mr. Stevens,” Sarah said, her voice reeking with disapproval. “Are you just going to leave your kids here on the porch or bring them into the house?” She pivoted and marched away before he could answer.

His kids.

Dear Father, he thought, staring at the two children who were beginning to squirm against the bonds that held the backs of their overalls to the handles of the basket. I know these aren’t my kids. I know it. So, would You mind telling me what I’m getting myself into this time?

God didn’t answer.

Max took that to mean he would find out in time. Inching forward, not sure if his nearness would set the kids off, he picked up the two bulky blue-striped bags that sat nearby and the laundry basket that held the two tiny children.

The one with the brown eyes, he thought it was the girl since it had a pink ribbon in its hair, gurgled and kicked its feet.

The other one chewed on its toe and studied Max with a serious expression.

“Well, uh, kids, I don’t quite understand this, but for some reason your mommy left you with me. She sounded scared in the note. But don’t worry. Hopefully, she’ll be back soon because…to be honest, I don’t have the faintest idea what to do with you. But maybe we can get along fine until…until we get this all worked out.”

The blue-eyed child frowned and released his foot, kicking Max in the nose.

Max froze, afraid they’d start crying again.

The child wiggled his toes against Max’s mouth as if offering him a taste.

Max grimaced and started to move slowly toward the door, deciding the kids would be better off on the floor inside, instead of trying to jam their feet down his throat.

Madeline laughed, which caused the other child to gurgle, too.

Relieved that they weren’t going to throw a fit at his movements, Max hurried to the door. “I’m just going to take you inside now, and sit you down. I bet you’re hungry. I am.”

He paused at the doors leading into the study that overlooked the balcony. Fumbling, he managed to get the door open and make it inside. “I’m not sure exactly what you eat.”

Suddenly, he sniffed, his nose wrinkling as his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You’re still in diapers, aren’t you?” Kicking the door closed, he juggled the basket for a firmer grip.

“We’re going to have to do something about that right now,” he said, though he wasn’t sure what. Smiling in relief at the accomplishment of getting them into the house without another bout of crying, he decided maybe this baby stuff wasn’t going to be so bad—except for the odor emanating from one of them.

Setting the basket down by the sofa, he hollered, “Sarah!”

Both children immediately jumped, then burst into tears. The terror any bachelor immediately feels at the sight of such small children had been held at bay—until those shrieks. His eyes widened and he reached out and patted first one, then the other’s shoulder. Yes, there was no doubt about it, he was in way over his head. He needed help.

“Sarah! Find me the employment agency’s number.”

Kaitland Summerville ran a hand wearily through the straight strands of her honey blond hair, pushing it back from her face. The action did no good, the blunt cut allowed it to fall right back against her smarting jaw.

Adjusting the ice pack, she tried to shuffle the paperwork that she was currently working on, but to no avail.

“Why don’t you take a break?” her assistant, Shirley, asked, her lips quirking in exasperation. “If I’d just been through what you’d been through, I would. I still can’t believe you’ve been temporarily pulled from working with the kids—”

Kaitland smiled, a weary smile. “I don’t blame Jake one bit, Shirley. True, I did nothing to provoke Johnnie’s daddy. He was drunk. But he and his wife are separated, and he doesn’t have custody. And what happened was very traumatic for the kids. It’s only natural that I step back until everything is settled. At least for the sake of the other kids and their parents. I wouldn’t want to stay and risk any censure falling on the day care or the church.”

Kaitland set the ice pack down on the table and pulled out a compact to examine the swelling.

Today had started out a rotten day and had gone downhill from there. First thing this morning, her stepbrother, Robert had called, trying to get her to go to a society function with him. She smiled wryly thinking of their conversation. She rarely went anywhere like that anymore. Still, he knew she did her best to have a forgiving nature and he was always wheedling, trying to get her to do things for him whenever he needed help. Sometimes she thought she’d rather be bitten by a rattler than to again circulate at the society events he frequented. These outings always ended in disaster. It was simply that he wasn’t a Christian. They had nothing in common except their parents had married each other when Kaitland was a preteen. When she’d managed to avoid a commitment to attending the function with her stepbrother, she had thought things were looking up.

However, she’d gone out to her car, running late, only to find it wouldn’t start. Just her luck. The water pump had been on its last legs for at least six months and she didn’t have the money to pay for a new one. True, she was the director of the local day care in the small town of Zachary, Louisiana, but that wasn’t always enough to make ends meet.

Disgusted, she’d called a cab, then a mechanic, hoping she could work out some sort of payment plan with him. The mechanic had agreed. But unfortunately for her, George had been driving the cab. George was the slowest driver in the world, she was sure of it. How he’d kept his license she didn’t know. The ten-minute trip to work had taken twenty minutes.

Because of that she had been running even later. The chapel service they held for the older kids was therefore late starting, which threw everything else behind. And right into the middle of that had come Johnnie’s daddy while she was outside; the daddy that had skipped out of town two months ago and left his wife and child destitute. He wanted his boy, as he’d said. She couldn’t allow him to take the child and had sent Shirley to call the police.