Trish Wylie - Project - Parenthood

She swore there and then that she would never see him again. Ever. He could think that was immature or stupid if he wanted to. In fact he could think whatever the hell he liked.

All he had done was show her that the path she’d chosen for herself was the right one. She would never let anyone get to her like he just had. She would only ever have herself to look out for, pure and simple.

And they’d be selling ice cream in hell before she changed her mind again.

‘YOU can’t do this to me now!’

Eimear lowered her voice and blinked shimmering eyes at her. ‘Teagan, I wouldn’t ask if this wasn’t really important. It could be make or break for us. I need this time with Mac to sort it out or we could be through.’

‘I get that, Eimear. I do. But I can’t look after them now.’ She glanced over at the three small faces blinking at her from the doorway, guilt rising up in her throat like bile that they were having to hear her turn them away, rejecting them. ‘Maybe next weekend some time. I have this massive deal in work and—’

‘This is my life we’re talking about! I can’t lose him, Teagan. I really can’t.’

And now she was crying. Teagan couldn’t take it when Eimear cried. And she especially couldn’t take it when it was happening in front of her nephew and nieces. Even though technically their mother’s back was to them. Teagan really couldn’t put them through any of the stuff she remembered from her own childhood. It would be too cruel.

But surely it wasn’t unreasonable to have asked for a little warning? A phone call to discuss it? A text message to say they were on their way over? Not a carload of them outside of her house when she got home from work…

‘Eimear—’

‘Please. I’m begging you.’

It had been a long time since Teagan had really felt that Eimear needed her. Things just hadn’t been the same between them over the years since Eimear’s first marriage. A marriage that Teagan had felt never should have happened to begin with. She’d said so. Loudly and at length, in fact. And Eimear had never really forgiven her for it, so their relationship had changed.

But seeing Eimear so desperate now was like looking back in time. And it brought out Teagan’s old need to soothe and to make things better.

Her eyes moved again to the three children. The eldest, Johnnie, was looking at her with eyes the same colour as his mother’s. He almost looked as if he was examining her, sizing her up. And even while she stood contemplating how to get out of looking after them she felt as if she was falling short of his expectations.

She took a long breath. ‘How long for?’

‘Thank you!’ Eimear engulfed her in a swift, tight hug, her tears gone. ‘I knew I could rely on you.’

Teagan scowled, suddenly feeling she’d just been hoodwinked. ‘They’ll need—’

‘They have everything they need right there. It’s all pretty self-explanatory. And Meggie is potty trained now, so she just needs a nappy on at night. It’s a pull-on, so you’ll be grand.’

She was still scowling while her sister became a hurricane around the room, hugging and kissing the children and moving towards the door. ‘We’ll only be a few days. Mac has booked some lovely country hideaway for us.’

‘How will I—?’

‘Thanks, Teagan. You really are a star.’

And she was gone.

Teagan blinked at the closed door. What had just happened? Not half an hour ago she’d had a bubble bath, scented candles and a glass of good Chardonnay planned for her evening. Now she was staring at three small faces that looked as bewildered as she felt.

She pinned a bright smile on her face as she approached them. But it took about thirty seconds for the smallest one to crumple.

‘Oh, no, honey. Don’t do that.’

And then the second one began to sniffle. Only Johnnie remained impassive.

It was Teagan’s worst nightmare.

Brendan hated moving days. This time would definitely be the last one for a few dozen years if he had his way.

He lugged a box from his rental van and made his sixth trip into the house before rolling up his sleeves and heading out to repeat the trip.

At least his life wasn’t as chaotic as it looked for the poor woman across the street.

She was making her third trip from the house to the car. This time with a screaming toddler in her arms. And from the way she was moving he could tell she wasn’t having much fun. No sign of a dad to help out either. Maybe he’d had sense enough to head out for work earlier, before the chaos kicked in.

If it had been Brendan, he’d have relished that kind of chaos.

He shook his head. He should have bought a damn apartment in some new complex filled with single people. People who didn’t make up perfect little family units in a hive of houses filled with similar perfect family units.

Hell, he’d have been better off with a paper cut and some nice lemon juice to pour on it.

But the house was a good investment.

The woman leaned in through the car door and soothed the screaming child until there was silence. Then, running her hands back through her dark hair to tame it, she closed the door and started around to the driver’s side. But halfway around the car she stopped, and there was a frustrated scream and a stamp of one high heel. Her hands rose for a moment and then dropped to her sides. ‘No, not this morning! Don’t do this to me!’

He stepped away from the van and looked where she was looking. A flat tyre. That sucked.

Well, he shrugged to himself, that was one way to get to meet the neighbours. And Lord knew she looked as if she could do with being rescued.

So he did the decent thing and jogged across the street. ‘Hi. Do you need a hand?’

She jumped when he spoke, and swung to face him, her hair swinging across her face. ‘I have a flat tyre.’

Brendan looked down at the offending object and nodded wisely. ‘Yep, I’d say you do, all right.’

‘I can’t fix a flat tyre in this outfit.’ There was a brief pause while she joined him in looking at the tyre. Then she took a breath and her voice changed. ‘I don’t suppose I could possibly ask you—?’

The male in him noted the shift in her vocal tone immediately. How it had changed from annoyed to beguiling in the space of one sentence. She was trying to flirt with him to get him to change the tyre. Typical woman. Obviously some ditzy housewife who had never learned how to change a tyre because her husband always did it for her.

He smiled and looked at her as she brushed her hair back from her face. And his breath caught.

‘Teagan.’

Her eyes flickered up to meet his, then widened. ‘Brendan.’

Blond brows quirked at the guarded way she said his name. He tried a wider smile. ‘Well, this is a surprise.’

‘What are you doing here?’

‘I’m moving in across the road.’

‘You bought the house across from me?’ Her eyes moved to look at the half-unloaded van. ‘When did that happen?’

‘Got the keys the day before yesterday. I have to say if I’d been given a list of people I might bump into when I got here—’

‘Mine would have been the last?’ Her chin rose as she looked back at him, a small, tight smile on her lips. ‘That’s nice.’

Her cool stare brought his back up. Okay, so she was having a bad morning—obviously—but that really was no excuse to be rude. After all, he’d come over to help.

‘Well, it’s been a while.’ He folded his arms across his broad chest and nodded.

‘Yes, it has.’

He made another attempt at lightening the mood. Not that she really deserved it. One long finger pointed towards the car, where at least the crying hadn’t started up again. ‘About three of those ago, apparently.’