Joey Light - Daddy For Hire

“True enough. You placed the ad. I just answered it. I don’t eat little kids for lunch, and the last time I got caught slinging one of them off the steeple of the closest church, they burned me at the stake. I’ll even get a note from my mother.”

She laughed. “Sometimes I wonder how we find ourselves in the situations we’re in. There isn’t enough of me to go around.” She heard metal against metal as he continued to tinker with the broken toy.

He stated matter-of-factly, “Even between the two of us, I suspect we’d be hard put to do all, see all. I don’t know anyone who does.”

“What are you hoping to get out of all this, Mr. Murdock?”

He sat back in the chair and examined her. Drawing some sort of conclusion, he answered. “The same thing you are, I expect. Help. More love for the kids. They can’t have too much of that, you know. Someone to share the laughs and help me wipe away the tears.” He scratched his back with the screwdriver. “I don’t talk like this. Don’t make me talk like this.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at him. The twinkle in his eye, the sure way he was planted at the table.

“I’ll call the boys in to meet you.”

Abby walked to the back door, pushed the screen open and shouted over the splashing water for the boys to come in.

Jack listened to their halfhearted protests as he grabbed a few more cookies and went back to his seat at the table only a little ashamed at how many peanut-butter cookies were landing in his gut. It had been so long since he’d had anything that tasted this good.

He was indulging himself in a feeling he hadn’t had in a long time: anticipation.

Abby sauntered back from the door and over to the sink, leaning a hip on the counter. “Okay, Murdock, if you can win over these boys of mine, that aren’t too keen on the idea to begin with, if you can pass the ultimate test of two tough little guys who think they’re taking great care of themselves and Mom just fine, then I’ll give it some serious thought. Maybe trying it for the summer.”

He offered a mock salute. “Can’t ask for more consideration than that.”

Abby’s friend Mary Kay came through the door first, way ahead of the boys, and slid to a surprised halt. “Well, hello.”

Jack immediately stood up and moved over to her, offering his hand. “Jack Murdock. Nanny applicant.”

“Oh, yeah. Mary Kay. Neighbor.” As her son, Matt, ran through the doorway, she snagged him and slowed him down. “My kid, Matt. Slow down, big guy.”

Matt buried his head in a towel as he attempted to dry his mop of thick brown hair. He was straightaway followed by two blondes that, except for a difference in height, could have been twins.

In a few moments, the room seemed filled with water droplets spraying everywhere, jabbering and laughter and yards of fluffy, multicolored beach towels.

Abby moved over to them and sped up their drying process. Dropping one of the towels on the floor, she put her foot on it and backtracked it to the door, soaking up the river the boys had let in.

The youngest boy had his green turtle inner tube still stuck securely around his waist. His darker blond hair was sticking straight up toward the sky, and his lips were turning purple from the sudden change in air temperature.

“Go upstairs and change and then come right back down. I want you to meet and talk with Mr. Murdock awhile.”

The oldest drew himself taller. “Oh, Mom, we were going back out to play ball.”

“Later.”

Above all the groans, Mary Kay propelled Matt toward the back door, getting the unspoken message.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Murdock.”

Matt protested. Mary Kay shoved a little harder. “Move it, kid. There’ll be time for playing later after you take out the trash and—”

“Oh, brother, what did I do now?” he whined as the door bounced shut behind them.

“Scoot upstairs and dry off. Cookies and milk when you’re back down,” Abby directed.

Silence descended as the kids left the kitchen. Abby was a little amazed that she didn’t feel more uncomfortable with a stranger sitting at her kitchen table. And a male one at that. She’d been hornet’snest mad at all men for a short amount of time after finding out. more and more about her husband’s “other life.” But she had worked her way through that as she had almost everything else: by sheer willpower.

“Do the boys play any kind of sport?”

She laughed. “Every kind. It seems like we’re on the road fifty percent of the time going to this game and returning from that one. Saturdays consist of giving up a huge midafternoon chunk of time to some sort of practice or another. And, of course, as summer grows closer there’s camping trips, swimming lessons, overnights with friends, birthday parties, and so on. They keep plenty busy.”

The adults heard the rumble of the boys’ feet as they sped down the stairs and swung into the kitchen.

“Guys, this is Jack Murdock. The last man to apply for the nanny job.”

Abby could see the curiosity in their eyes as they tried to connect this man with whatever visions six-and eight-year-olds had of a nanny. Remembering how the kids had acted up and discounted the entire situation time and time again with previous applicants, Abby was surprised when they both just gave Jack a good look over. Of course, even they had to see he was nothing like the other candidates at all.

Jack held up the fragments of the car. “So, who’s the unlucky guy who wrecked this?”

“Me,” Nick, her oldest son, said proudly, poking a thumb in his chest, his eyes lighting up. “But not before I got it to do a wheelie at the roof pitch. Mom had a fit.”

Abigail watched Jack as he listened intently to Nick’s story. He sure would be nice to have around. But then, so were German shepherds, and even they needed a lot of upkeep. This entire situation could just turn out to be a major complication. He was much too easy on the eyes. And very substantially the classic male.

Feelings she’d thought she would never succumb to again were warming her insides. She willed them to stop, but they refused.

His jeans fit perfectly. He was handsome and had a smooth way of walking, and he simply had a great body. His stomach was flat. He was a good cross between Sam Elliott and a tall Clint Black. A man that caused a woman to conjure pictures of blazing orange sunsets…wild rides on untamed stallions…the two of them wrapped in one blanket sitting near a campfire.

Abby had to admit she felt her heart slowly melting. For the first time in a long line of drawn-out, lonely days spent resenting the male species and her stupidity in dealing with it, she felt some of her pentup anger ease.

It was almost as if she could actually feel her lifeblood snaking through her veins. Hot and way too fast. She detected a quickening. A heightened awareness of her body and mind. It was like seeing everything through 3-D glasses when all her life everything had been one-dimensional.

“Have any glue?” Jack asked, a screwdriver in one hand and pliers in the other.

Nick shook his head. “Sure, but it won’t do any good to stick it all back together ’cause the motor won’t work anymore.”

“You’re sure of that?”

Nick started to affirm his train of thought but stopped short. “I guess not. But it sure looks trashed to me.” He slid from the chair and ran to his room to retrieve the tube of glue.

Ben didn’t miss a thing even though he refused to crack a smile at Jack. He watched him manipulate the parts to the broken toy with fascination but remained silent.

Abby realized that Jack was simulating, without trying, what he might be able to do if he became part of the household: fit the puzzle pieces back into place, strengthen some weaknesses. Take the scattered pieces of the whole and patch them together so they’d work. Maybe not perfectly, not like the original, but quite good enough.