Bonnie Winn - The Mommy Makeover

It was terribly quiet. He wondered if this latest exploit had pushed Mrs. Phillips over the edge. She was an older woman whose patience and energy were diminishing rapidly as she cared for three young, active children. But she had been blessedly dependable. And the steady stream of sitters that had preceded her had all flaked out in one fashion or other.

Mentally crossing his fingers, Finn pulled open the front door. It was equally quiet inside. Uneasily, he glanced around, not seeing Mrs. Phillips or the children. He called out, but no one answered.

Worried, he walked rapidly to the patio door and slid it open. But what he saw made him want to slam the door shut.

Mrs. Phillips was covered in white foam and the twins were both orange, from head to toe, as was their dog, Snuffles. Finn could smell paint thinner and soap. And he could see water rushing from the hose, drenching Jenny.

He walked closer. “Mrs. Phillips?”

She turned, her face darkening to an ugly red beneath the odd foam. “It’s about time you got here,” she snarled.

Oh, this was bad. Very bad. “What happened?”

Mrs. Phillips turned an accusing glare on the twins. “Those two…two…they painted each other and the dog with your industrial day-glow safety paint!”

“She said we could paint!” Erin defended, looking strangely like a glowing alien.

“With your paints!” Mrs. Phillips screeched. “With normal children’s watercolors. Who in the world would have thought they could climb up to the paint in the garage?”

“What is that goop all over you?” he asked, knowing there wasn’t a satisfactory answer to her question.

Balefully, Mrs. Phillips stared at Jenny. “This one decided to spray me with the fire extinguisher.”

“She said the house was on fire!” Jenny protested.

“I said you kids could get in trouble as fast as a house afire. And that’s when she turned on the water hose as well.” Mrs. Phillips gestured downward at her soaked shoes. The leather was obviously ruined. “As though I hadn’t already had enough water for today. The twins filled the bathtub without telling me and it ran over, flooding the bathroom. Your upstairs carpet will never be the same, not to mention my sanity!”

Finn swallowed his amusement. If the poor woman didn’t look so aggrieved, he would have pointed out the inherent humor in the situation. But, clearly, she wouldn’t be in the mood to hear it. He doubted he would be either if he had been covered in foam and water. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Phillips. I know this has been a bad day—”

“Bad day? Mr. Malloy a bad day was two weeks ago when the twins filled my tote bag with shampoo, after emptying it from the bottle. Or last week when they poured the cake batter in the toaster. Or even two days ago when they poured sugar on the couch and filled the aquarium with ketchup.”

“It made the water red!” Eric offered.

Mrs. Phillips glared at him.

“Of course I’ll replace your shoes and tote bag, Mrs. Phillips. And I’ll try not to be late again.”

“Doesn’t matter if you are,” she stated.

“It doesn’t?” he asked uneasily.

“Nope. Because I quit. I would have left hours ago, but I’m not the kind of person to abandon young children.” She took a deep, exasperated breath. “Even ones like this.”

Finn glanced between the sitter and his children, who didn’t look particularly remorseful. “Surely we could work something out. The kids like you and I’m sure they weren’t deliberately trying to provoke you.”

“If this wasn’t deliberate, I’d hate to be on the receiving end when they are. Nope, I felt sorry for you, being a widower and all, but enough’s enough. What these kids need is a mother. Someone who can keep them in line.”

Glumly, Finn resigned himself to the inevitable. They had lost yet another sitter, which meant he would have to scramble to find one for the next day. “If you’ll give the total of the damages to the agency, I’ll make sure you’re reimbursed.”

She swiped at the foam still coating her clothes, then tossed down the rag she had been using to try and clean the paint from the twins. “Mr. Malloy, you haven’t got that much money!” Stalking toward the house, she punctuated her exit with the squishing creaks of her waterlogged shoes.

He flinched when she slammed the patio door hard enough to rattle the glass. Then he turned his gaze on his children. A trio of angelic expressions greeted him. So Mrs. Phillips thought they needed a mother. That was hardly a surprise. It was a logical conclusion. But it wasn’t the kind of decision based on logic.

“Daddy, Miz Pipps was mad!” Jenny told him, reaching her arms toward him.

Disregarding her soggy state, he picked her up. “You guys have to take it easy on the sitters. I’m running out of willing ones.”

“You could just stay home with us,” Jenny concluded with childlike reasoning.

He pushed the wet hair from her eyes. “I wish it were that easy, sweetie.”

“Up!” Erin demanded, holding up paint-covered arms. Next to her, Snuffles wagged his orange tail, flicking the paint on Finn’s pants.

He sighed as he picked her up, knowing his clothing was already ruined. “Okay, my little alien.”

“We’re hungry,” Jenny added.

“Didn’t you have dinner?” Finn asked in dismay.

Jenny shook her head. “I don’t think Miz Pipps likes us anymore.”

That was an understatement. “It’s okay, sweetie. I’ll order a pizza. I wonder if they’ll deliver turpentine with it.”

“Turptine,” Eric repeated several times, enjoying the new word.

And a new baby-sitter, Finn added silently. He would have to find one by morning. Coupled with cleaning up the twins, that would mean another late night. Yet he couldn’t be late for Ms. Amhurst. Feeling like a wishbone being pulled apart, Finn wondered again how he was going to make it all work.

KATELYN RECHECKED her makeup in the hand mirror, then fiddled with the bow of her chiffon blouse. It had been an impulse buy the previous day. The frothy confection in the store’s window had caught her attention and, uncharacteristically, she’d popped inside and bought the blouse without even trying it on. Its soft lines weren’t her usual style, but something about the very feminine item appealed to her. Along with the flowered broomstick skirt she’d also purchased. All sorts of different things seemed to appeal to her lately. It probably had something to do with quitting smoking, she decided.

The delighted saleswoman had given her a generous sample of a floral scent she insisted suited her as well. And somehow that morning it had. Katelyn rechecked her hair, having left it long and loose in soft waves. Her briefcase rested on the limo seat, still unopened, but she couldn’t bring herself to dive in as usual. It was such a delightful day—in fact she’d been humming all morning.

The limo turned into the circular drive of the Allen Center buildings and she sighed. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been tempted to play hooky. And now she could think of little else. But discipline had been ingrained since she was a child. She exited the car, fussing a bit with her unaccustomed skirt.

“You look real nice this morning,” Finn commented.

Katelyn couldn’t stop the soft smile that bloomed across her face. “Um…thank you.”

It was part of the subtle metamorphosis she seemed to be undergoing. She smiled more often, although she tried to quash the reaction.

“You’re welcome,” he replied.

“That’ll be all. My meeting should be done by eleven.”

HE WATCHED as, instead of striding briskly inside, Katelyn strolled slowly, stopping to admire a cart of cut flowers and speak with the vendor, purchasing a single daisy.