C.J. Carmichael - A convenient proposal

He’d left them alone for two minutes, maximum three. When he got back, they were still standing in exactly the same spot. Billy gazed longingly at the television in the corner.

“Can we watch cartoons?”

“Maybe later.” Although he’d purchased a few Disney movies, he suspected they both put in too many hours in front of the television at home. “Want to make a puzzle? Or build something with these blocks?”

“Sure.” Billy plopped onto the floor, his brown eyes serious.

“Which one?”

Billy shrugged.

“Okay, then. Let’s do the puzzle. Want to help, Mandy?”

She, too, sat as obediently as a well-trained lapdog. Remembering what a chatterbox she’d been just months earlier, at her third birthday party, Mick felt like weeping.

The three of them put the puzzle together in silence. Mick couldn’t think of anything to talk about with these small, hurting children. He wondered if they were missing their mother, but he was afraid to ask in case the answer was yes. He didn’t want to return them to Sharon. If she’d taken his advice and gone to Banff, that wouldn’t be an option, anyway.

By six o’clock he felt desperate. Billy and Amanda were like two well-behaved robots. He wished he could figure out what they really wanted, what they were thinking. But they seemed content to do whatever he suggested. When they finished the puzzle or the game, they just looked at him, waiting for his next suggestion.

The doorbell chiming at five minutes after six was a desperately welcome interruption. He opened the door to Kelly, who wore jeans, and a pale yellow sweatshirt under her jacket. Her hair was tied back from her face, and she carried several shopping bags.

He hung up her coat, then motioned to the living room. The kids were still sitting on the floor around a simple board game they’d been playing.

“Billy, Amanda? This is my friend Kelly. Remember, I said she’d be joining us for pizza?”

Mick could tell Kelly was nervous. She was smiling, but she’d dropped the bags and was gripping her hands behind her back.

“Hi, Billy. Hi, Amanda. Are you playing Trouble? I used to play that game with my niece.”

Billy nodded, then stood. Like a shadow, Amanda followed him, taking a few steps closer to Kelly.

“I know you,” Billy said suddenly.

Mick felt his heart leap against his rib cage. Sharon hadn’t been clear on how much of that scene at the Thunder Bar M the kids had seen. So no one knew if Billy or his sister had witnessed Kelly shooting their father.

“Do you, Billy?” he asked, striving to sound nonchalant. He should have been smarter than to expose them to this, to take the chance of upsetting them. As if they hadn’t been through enough—

“You’re the lady in the car,” Billy said. “Who sits and watches.”

Kelly had been visibly expecting a verbal blow. This seemed to surprise her. “That’s right.”

“Did my daddy send you? To look out for us?”

“Oh, Billy…” Kelly angled her face toward the door, putting a hand up to veil her expression.

Mick felt bad for her. But at the moment, his nephew was his prime concern. He dropped to one knee and put his hand on the small boy’s back.

“That’s an interesting thought, Billy. Who knows.” He glanced up at Kelly, who was rubbing away a tear with the sleeve of her yellow sweatshirt. “Maybe he did.”

THE TOPIC WAS DROPPED when the pizza delivery-man arrived. Perfect timing, thought Mick, for taking the pressure off the kids and Kelly.

“Where do you want to eat?” Kelly asked, as he pulled a twenty and a five from his wallet.

“In the kitchen. There’s no dining room in this house. I’ve confiscated it for my office.”

“How about I set out plates and cutlery.”

They couldn’t really need forks and knives for pizza, but Mick told her to go ahead. The kids stayed with him, their eyes on the fragrant cardboard box. Neither said a word, but they sure looked hungry. Maybe he should have offered them an afternoon snack.

“Okay, then,” Mick said once the door was closed. “Let’s go dig in.”

“Should we wash our hands first?” Kelly stood in the hall off the kitchen.

“Yeah. Right.” He veered toward the bathroom, and the children followed. A quick soap-up and rinse, and they were finally ready to settle around the kitchen table.

Mick pulled back the cardboard lid on the extra-large pizza. “We’ve got half pepperoni and cheese, half vegetarian. What kind would you like, Mandy?”

The little three-year-old said nothing—only sniffed. She had a cold or something; her nose had been running all day. Mick used a tissue to wipe her face, then shifted his gaze to Billy.

“She’ll have pepperoni and cheese,” Billy said. “Me, too.” He turned to Kelly. “Mandy doesn’t talk since our daddy went to forever.”

“Oh.” Kelly contemplated the little girl for a moment, then checked back with her brother. “So, how are we supposed to know what she wants?”

“Just ask me. I always know. I’m her big brother.”

“She’s lucky to have you, isn’t she.” Kelly picked up a plate, handed it to Mick for pizza, then placed it in front of Amanda. “Is this what you want Amanda?”

The little girl didn’t so much as nod. But she did give a tiny smile before biting off the very tip of her slice. Beside her, Billy wiggled with impatience.

“Yours is coming, Billy,” Mick said. He noticed Kelly had set out glasses of milk and a bowl of those tiny, scrubbed carrots he’d bought when he’d stocked up for the kids’ visit. He watched as she offered the bowl.

“Want a carrot?”

Once Billy took one, Amanda did, too.

“I don’t really like vegetables,” Billy said, sniffing suspiciously.

“You might like carrots,” Kelly replied. “They make a great snapping noise when you bite into them. Listen.”

She bit. The carrot snapped. Amanda giggled.

“It’s a little tricky to make that loud of a sound,” Kelly said. “Give it a try and see if you can do it.”

Mick was interested to find that both kids rose to the challenge.

“How ’bout you, Uncle Mick?” Billy asked. He was already on his third carrot.

“Oh, I’m sure I can make the loudest snap of all.” Mick ground his teeth against the carrot in a sawing motion that was barely audible. Pretending to be disgusted, he took another carrot from the bowl and tried again with the same result. “This is harder than I thought—”

Crunch! The sound came from Amanda. She held up the remains of her carrot in triumph, as though to say, “Like this, Uncle Mick!”

If only the words would actually come out of her mouth. Mick had been wondering if his niece should see some kind of counselor. This not talking had been going on too long. Maybe he’d ask Kelly her opinion later. She seemed a natural with kids, but then, she’d mentioned she had a niece of her own.

That would be Maureen’s daughter, he realized. Of the three Shannon sisters, she was the one he knew the least. Not that he knew any of them all that well.

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