A Baby for Mummy

Once a problem solver, always a problem solver, Emily thought. “How about I just whip something up?” She figured she and Dan could talk and consult while she cooked. Then she’d be able to take her paycheck and exit, before she got hopelessly enmeshed in the ongoing family drama.

“Uh…that could be a problem,” Dan said.

Walt nodded. “We haven’t had a chance to go to the grocery store yet.”

“We only go on the weekends,” Kayla said.

Emily knew people generally had more in the pantry than they thought. “Just let me have a look.” She opened the fridge and realized she had her work cut out for her. They were right—pickings were meager. “I can handle it,” she said confidently.

“How long is it going to take?” Kayla asked, pouting.

Emily was already assembling ingredients on the counter. “Twenty minutes.”

“That’s faster than we could get a pizza,” Dan enthused with a grateful glance her way.

Happy a meltdown had been avoided, at least for the moment, Emily took charge. “In the meantime I need everyone to sit down with a pen and paper, and make a list of your favorite foods, along with everything you dislike, as well.”

Kayla began stuffing her modeling clay back into the airtight storage containers. “Daddy, can you write mine down?”

“Will do,” Dan promised.

Walt scrounged in the drawer next to the phone for pens. The older two kids sat down at the kitchen table. Emily filled a big pot with water and set it on to boil. Meanwhile, she chopped up half a pound of bacon into bite-size pieces and put all in a skillet to brown.

“What are we having?” Tommy looked suspicious.

Emily knew that to tell would only invite criticism and argument. “It’s a surprise,” she said with a firm smile. “Work on your lists.”

Ava frowned and looked at her dad. “Can she do that?”

Dan shrugged. “Looks like she already is. Come on, everybody. This is your one chance to have a say in what we’re going to have for future dinners around here.”

His logic worked. Everyone got down to business, thinking, writing, thinking some more. By the time Emily put a heaping platter of spaghetti carbonara, green beans with almonds and fruit salad on the center of the table, the pages were filled.

“Hey, that looks kind of good.” Tommy surveyed the fragrant pasta, sprinkled liberally with Parmesan cheese.

Kayla smiled. “Fruit salad is my favorite.”

“It smells incredible,” Walt said.

Dan held out a chair. “Sit down with us, please, Emily.”

She hesitated. Wasn’t this how she’d gotten into trouble before? By blurring the line between hired chef and family friend? “It’s not—”

“Typical, I know.” Dan’s smile was as kind as it was chivalrous. “But these aren’t usual circumstances.”

Emily still would have refused had it not been for the growling in her tummy and the fact that she knew she must no longer skip meals or eat at odd hours. For the next year and a half, she had to be as conscientious about her diet as she’d been the past six months. The future of her own family was riding on that. “All right,” she said gratefully. “But as soon as we’re done eating, it’s right back to business.”

The serving platters were passed around, and then all was silent as the kids dug in. Ten minutes later there wasn’t a speck of food left on the table, and Emily had made plenty.

“Wow!” Dan sat contentedly back in his chair.

Walt agreed. “Incredible.”

“I didn’t think I’d like that, but it was really good,” Tommy said.

Ava smiled. “I liked it, too.” She bolted from her chair. “Anyone want coffee?”

Dan and Walt nodded.

They didn’t know how good that sounded, Emily thought wistfully. But seeing the label of the can, Emily had to decline. Caffeine was among the things she had to avoid these days, too. “Thanks. No.”

“So are you going to come and cook for us all the time?” Kayla propped her chin on her upraised hand and searched Emily’s face. “‘Cause I would be really, really, really happy if you did.”

FOR A SECOND, DAN NOTED, Emily looked almost tempted. Then she seemed to catch herself. A hint of sadness and regret flashed in her eyes. “Oh, honey…” she began.

Dan knew she was about to decline.

Across the room, a burst of salsa music radiated from inside her shoulder bag.

Emily rose in relief, all business once again. “I apologize, but I’m really going to have to get that. I’ve been waiting for a call from my Realtor all day.” Phone to her ear, Emily ducked out of the kitchen gracefully and walked toward the front foyer.

“You kids are on for dishes,” Dan said. “Kayla, you clear, Ava, load the dishwasher, Tommy, wipe down the table and counters and take out the trash.”

For once, there was no grumbling as the kids rose from the table. Maybe, Dan surmised, it was because they were all full, and hence, content—at least as far as their tummies went. Emotionally, well, it was hard to fix the absence of a mom in their lives without getting involved again, and that was something he did not want to do. His life was too complicated and busy as it was.

From the hall, Emily’s voice rose in agitation.

“They can’t do that, can they? I just got the okay on my mortgage application!” She sounded distraught. “Of course I can’t match that! At least tell me who did this. Tex Ostrander!”

Who was Tex? Dan wondered.

Obviously the guy had some emotional connection to Emily.

Abruptly her voice cut off. Became calm and professional. “Yes. I understand. I’ll talk to you in a few days.”

“Wonder what’s happening there?” Tommy asked beneath his breath.

Dan wondered, too, as did everyone else in his family.

Emily strode back into the kitchen. Tears of frustration glimmered in her eyes. “Sorry about that,” she said in a choked voice. “I just got some really bad news.” She rubbed her hand across her forehead. “Would you mind if I took your lists home tonight, studied them…and then came back again to talk to you about my suggestions?”

“Of course it’s fine.” Dan moved toward her. “I’ll walk you out.”

He waited until they reached her car, then said, “Is there anything I can do?”

Her lower lip trembling, Emily leaned against her van and turned her glance away. “Not unless you can magically buy back the Fredericksburg orchard my family owned when I was growing up.” Sighing, she pushed her hand through her mahogany hair and turned her gaze to his, clearly needing to vent. “It went up for sale a few months ago. As soon as I heard, I talked to the owners. Told them I wanted it, put some earnest money down and started saving for the full down payment.”

Emily swallowed and gestured ineffectually. “I mean, I knew technically that, until I secured a mortgage and made the full down payment, the owners could still receive a higher bid, though I had the right to match it—it’s written into their contract with me. But I didn’t really think someone would come along and offer to pay in cash—never mind my ex-fiancé!” she finished, enraged.