Ten Acres And Twins

Jack didn’t respond. Something past her head had caught his interest again.

The waitress had arrived with their orders, interrupting a second brawl at their table by the window. “Here you go, sir,” she said as she placed Jack’s meal in front of him. “Let me know if your steak isn’t perfection itself.”

Then she flopped Abby’s plate down and said, “Pepper?”

“Yes, please.”

The redhead pulled a pepper mill from her apron pocket and twisted it over the salad. When Abby motioned for her to stop, the waitress looked at Jack and asked, “Do you like things spicy, sir?”

Jack shook his head, so the young woman dropped the mill into her pocket, smiled at him one more time and disappeared toward the back of the restaurant.

He picked up his knife and fork to begin cutting into his steak. Abby thought it was just like him to attack his meat first, leaving his salad for later. Although she’d been around him only a few times, she knew he didn’t pay much heed to social niceties. He did what he wanted.

She worked that tidbit of knowledge around in her brain, looking for criticism. Instead, she found nothing but respect for his mettle.

She nibbled at her own salad, letting him eat in peace for a few minutes. Maybe he’d be more amenable when his appetite had been appeased.

After she’d finished most of her meal, she began to deliberate on her next words. She wanted to frame them carefully, seeking the best way of convincing him.

“Do you realize you haven’t even asked about the twins?” She hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but having done so, she raised her brows in challenge and waited.

Jack looked up, chewing a mouthful of food and frowning.

After he swallowed, he said, “I knew you’d taken them home, and I was trusting you to care for them until this was all worked out. Are they all right? Where are they?”

“They’re with a friend. But you didn’t ask about them until just now.” Abby rested her fork on the edge of her plate, no longer hungry now that she was ready to hash this thing out.

“It’s obvious you love those babies. You would have told me anything important.” He stabbed his fork into a piece of steak, stuffed it in his mouth and nodded at her.

“I don’t know if I would.”

“Yes, Abby. You would,” he said around his mouthful.

“How many times have you seen them?” she hissed.

“As often as I could get away from Kansas City. Maybe four or five times.”

“Have you ever changed a diaper?” She picked up her fork again and toyed with a chunk of chicken on her plate, cutting it into tiny morsels before lifting one to her lips. As she chewed, she scowled at Jack, waiting for the reply she knew was coming.

“No, but how hard can that be?” He kept eating, but now his eyes were sharp with anger.

“Have you ever calmed a crying baby?”

He shook his head and kept chewing.

“You honestly think you can take a five-month-old boy home and figure him out? He’s a human being, not a computer.”

Jack put his fork down and planted one fist on each side of his dinner plate. “Wyatt is five and a half months old,” he reminded her. “And if Brian could figure him out, so can I.”

“When? Are you going to quit your job?”

He raised one brow. “I can afford to hire a nanny.”

Abby nearly jumped out of her seat, her fury was so intense. “So, Wyatt will be raised by some stranger because you’re too mulish to admit I’m the best person for the job!”

Jack pushed his plate away and picked up his beer. He downed the rest of the glass without once pulling his eyes away from hers. Finally, he said, “The truth is, Brian left a letter with the lawyer for me to read on the event of his death.”

“A letter?”

“Yes.”

She swallowed. “I didn’t get one from Paige.”

“Sorry.”

“What did it say?”

He leaned over to pull his wallet out of his back pocket.

“Here, you can read it yourself,” he said.

Abby scooted her salad plate aside before taking the letter. She unfolded it carefully, knowing he must treasure this last communication from his brother, then started to read.

Dear Jack,

Hey, if you’re reading this, it means I croaked.

Funny to think about that, but it means Paige died, too, and that’s not funny at all. Paige and I have had our problems, but lately things have been good. We’re learning to compromise when we have a fight. One of the things we’ve worked out has been what to do if the babies need a home. Paige wants her sister to get them. Abby’s great, but she’s a single woman. A boy needs a man around. You know that. I want you to raise Wyatt if we die. We’re naming you as his guardian, and leaving you the land you financed. Please try it for a year, and then if you want to blow it off, you have my blessing. (Give Abby a chance and sell her the land cheap, you old shark.) But try it. You’re not doing anything better.

I love you, bro.

Brian

Abby refolded the paper with shaking hands. How could she compete with the plea of a dead man?

She couldn’t. She knew that. But in time she would find a way. She knew that, too.

Looking into Jack’s stricken face, she handed him the letter and shook her head. “Okay. You win this round,” she said. “But there’s something in there that’s confusing. They left you the ten acres of land?”

“Yes,” he said, shrugging as he slid the letter back inside his wallet.

“They left me the house.”

He stared at her for a moment, his eyes glittering with some internal emotion. She wondered if he was going to throw a fit or start blubbering.

He did neither.

His burst of laughter rang out across the restaurant, turning the heads of several nearby diners. “Those two rascals left me a piece of land with no house to live in,” he said in a voice rich with amusement. “They left you an old house with no farm to finance the upkeep. And they left each of us a twin.”