Daddy Next Door

Again, Nick remained silent. He wasn’t sure she would still tell him about the girls.

She looked up. “Do you need more coffee?”

“Yeah, but let me serve you for a change.” He picked up her almost empty cup, as well as his own, and refilled them. Then he sat back down.

“When I got ready to photograph the girls, I had some outfits for them to put on, just for fun. Annie was reluctant. When I reached out for her, I discovered she was covered in bruises. I was so upset, I scared her. She wouldn’t tell me how she got them. Finally Steffi told me the mean man at her house pinched her if she didn’t do as he said at once.”

She swallowed convulsively. “You’ve seen Annie. Do you think she’s a discipline problem?”

“No! How could— Hadn’t anyone seen the bruises?”

“Apparently not. I demanded the welfare worker in charge of Annie come at once. She made it six hours later. She, too, was upset by what she saw, but she said she had nowhere else to put Annie. And the charges would have to be investigated.”

“So they took her back to the same place?”

“No. She came home with me.” She explained about her uncle and all he’d done.

“Do you think you’ll be approved to adopt them?” he asked. When she glared at him, he added, “No offense, but I thought a single parent wouldn’t be— I mean, usually they look for a couple.”

“I’ll be approved. My uncle told me they don’t turn down qualified applicants.”

“I believe the girls will be fortunate if they get you for a mother, Jennifer. I didn’t mean any insult.”

“I’m a little touchy. My mother— Never mind.”

He sat there silently, waiting, hoping she would finish that sentence.

Finally, she said, with a bitter laugh, “My mother thinks I’m ruining my life by adopting the girls.”

“She isn’t happy to have three granddaughters?”

Again that bitter laugh. “My mother? She isn’t interested in being a grandmother in the first place and certainly not a grandmother to children that didn’t have her exclusive blood.”

“Ah, one of the blue bloods, is she?”

“Yes, of course! She was born and bred in Highland Park,” Jennifer said, naming an exclusive neighborhood in Dallas, full of prestigious homes and wealthy owners.

“I bet you were a debutante,” Nick guessed with a grin.

“Yes. I had no choice. But after I graduated college, I refused to play that role any longer.”

“Good for you. Did your mom withhold money to persuade you to change?”

“She tried. I got a job and paid my own way.”

“Well, you’ve certainly done well. These are nice digs.”

“Yes, but I wouldn’t be here without my grandmother’s help.”

“Good for her. And you’re a photographer?”

“Yes. Not well known yet, but, hopefully, I will be.” She took a sip of coffee before she asked, “What do you do?”

He paused, debating his answer. Which one of his careers did he choose? Remembering his agent’s stern warning, he chose the less interesting one. “I’m a teacher.”

“So you’re only here for the summer?”

“Maybe. I’d been thinking about moving to Dallas for a while. I’m going to see what’s available.”

“You realize if you try to renew the lease next year, the rent will go up, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought I should tell you since I know teachers don’t make a lot of money.”

“Like unknown photographers?”

She stiffened. “I told you I had help from my grandmother.”

“Sorry, that was out of line, anyway. If you’ll make me a map, I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Of course. I’ll get pen and paper,” she said, still stiff, showing she hadn’t forgiven him. Rising, she left the room.

Nick cleaned off the table and loaded the dishwasher.

“What are you doing?” Jennifer asked as she returned.

“Hoping to get you to forgive me,” he told her, offering his best smile.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” she assured him, not meeting his gaze.

“Yes, there is. You’ve taken me in and fed me twice, and I’ve repaid you by being rude.”

“Please,” she said, pushing her chin-length hair behind her ear, “it doesn’t matter.”

“Jennifer,” Missy called out and they both heard the patter of her little feet. Before they could turn around to look, she was in the kitchen with them. “Don’t I look beautiful?” Missy demanded, glowing.

Jennifer laughed, a sound full of joy. “You absolutely do, but you should wait for me to tell you, instead of asking.”

“But what if you forget?” Missy asked, puzzled by that social rule.

“Well, then I think you could ask.” Jennifer reached out to hug the little girl. “Where are your sisters?”

“They’re still getting dressed. They had lots of buttons,” Missy assured her.

“Okay, maybe I should go help them. And we have to brush your hair.”

“Oh.” Missy didn’t look very happy about that chore. “Sometimes it hurts.”