Mother in Training

Emily cocked her head, trying to understand. “What’s the usual, Daddy?”

“Coffee and a blueberry muffin,” Zooey answered before he had the chance. The little girl made a face. Zooey laughed. “How does hot chocolate with marshmallows bobbing up and down sound to you?”

The grimace vanished instantly, replaced by a wide grin. “Good!” Emily enthused.

“Messy,” Jack countered.

“The nice thing about messy,” Zooey told him, giving the towel hooked on her belt a tug, “is it can always be cleaned up.” And then she looked from one child to the other. “But you guys aren’t going to be messy, are you?”

Emily shook her head solemnly from side to side. Watching her, Jack Jr. imitated the movement.

Zooey nodded, trying hard to match the children’s solemnity. “I didn’t think so. By the way, my name’s Zooey.” She held her hand out to Emily.

The little girl stared at it, stunned, before finally putting her own hand into it. “Emily,” she said with the kind of pride and awe a child felt when she suddenly realized she was being treated like an adult.

“Jackie,” the little boy announced loudly, sticking his hand out as if he was gleefully poking a snake with a stick.

Zooey shook the little boy’s hand and never let on that the simple gesture made her own hand sticky. Without missing a beat, she took her towel and wiped off his fingers.

“Pleased to meet you, Jackie. You, too, Emily. I’ll be right back with your hot chocolates,” she promised, backing away. “And the usual,” she added, looking at Jack before she turned on her heel to hurry to the kitchen.

Jack leaned back in the booth, blowing out a long breath. Trying to get his bearings. And focus.

He didn’t often believe in miracles. Actually, he didn’t believe in them at all. They weren’t real and, contrary to popular belief, they just didn’t happen. Miracles belonged in legends, something for the desperate to cling to in times of strife.

And then he smiled to himself at the irony of it. God knew he certainly fit the desperate criteria today. More so than usual.

At exactly five minutes after seven this morning, just as he was preparing to call her to ask why she was running late, the children’s latest nanny had called to tell him that she wasn’t coming back. Ever. And then she’d hung up.

He could only assume that the soured old woman had spent the night mulling over this declaration of abandonment, brought on by the disagreement they’d had yesterday evening regarding her strict treatment of the children. Emily had tearfully told him she’d been punished that morning because she’d accidentally spilled her glass of milk at the table. Since there wasn’t a single truly willful bone in the little girl’s petite body, he knew Emily hadn’t done it on purpose.

But apparently Agnes Phillips did not tolerate anything less than perfection. This wasn’t the first time she and Jack had locked horns over her uptight behavior. He’d taken her to task on at least two other occasions. And she’d only been in his employ a little over two months.

Obviously, the third time was not the charm, he thought cynically. He’d been planning on replacing the woman as soon as he could get around to it. Agnes had undoubtedly sensed it and, reject from a military camp though she was, had beaten him to the punch by calling up and quitting.

Leaving him in a hell of a bind.

He felt like a man in the middle of the ocean, trying to survive by clinging to a life raft that had just sprung a leak.

Jack had a case due in court today and he didn’t think that Alice, the receptionist at his law firm, was going to be overly thrilled about his need to turn her into a babysitter for a few hours.

But observing the way both his children seemed to light up the moment the young waitress returned with their hot chocolates gave him food for thought.

“Zooey?”

She placed his coffee and muffin down on the table and very carefully pushed the plate before him. She raised her eyes to his, wishing she could clear her throat, hoping she wouldn’t sound as if something had just fluttered around her navel at the sound of his deep voice saying her name. “Hmm?”

He leaned forward across the table, his eyes never leaving hers. “I’d like to offer you a bribe.”

“Excuse me?” Zooey withdrew the tray from its resting spot on the table and held it to her like a bulletproof shield that could protect her from everything, including handsome lawyers with drop-dead-gorgeous brown eyes.

“Maybe I’d better backtrack.”

“Maybe,” she agreed firmly.

He slanted a glance at his children. Jackie was already wearing a hot chocolate mustache on his cheeks. “Look, I told you their nanny quit this morning.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Zooey saw several other customers come through the door and take seats. She knew that she should be easing away from Jack, turning a deaf ear to his problems. But the kids looked as if they were about to drive him over the edge.

Jack delivered the final, hopefully winning, salvo. “And I’m due in court today.”

More customers came in. Zooey caught the eye of Debi, the other waitress, mouthing, “Can you get those tables?”

“And there’s no room for short assistants?” she asked out loud, turning back toward Jack.

He didn’t crack a smile at her comment. “None.”

Zooey paused, thinking. But it was a foregone conclusion as to what she’d come up with: nothing. “I’d like to help you out,” she told him apologetically, “but I don’t know of anybody who could watch them.”

He hadn’t wanted a substitute. “I was thinking of you.”

“Me?” She glanced toward Milo. He was behind the counter, pretending not to listen. She knew better. The man had ears like a bat on steroids. “I’ve already got a job. Such as it is,” she couldn’t help adding.

Her lack of enthusiasm about her job was all the encouragement Jack needed. “I’ll pay you double whatever he’s giving you.”

That still didn’t amount to all that much, she thought. But this really wasn’t about money. It was about time. “Double? I don’t th—”

“Okay.” He cut in, not letting her finish. “Triple. I’m a desperate man, Zooey.”

And gorgeous. Don’t forget gorgeous, she added silently. And triple her pay would go a long way toward helping her with her bills.

Jack could see that he had her. All he needed was to reel her in. “It’d only be for the day,” he assured her. “You could take them to the park, the mall, wherever—”

Something suddenly hit her. She put her hand up to stop him before he could get any further.

“Mr. Lever. Jack. You’re talking about leaving your kids with me. Your children,” she emphasized. “And you don’t even know me.” What kind of a father did that make him—besides desperate?

He knew all he really needed to know about the young woman, he thought. It wasn’t as if she had kept to herself. She’d been open and forthright even when all he’d wanted with his coffee and muffin was a side order of silence.

“We’ve talked for six weeks.” He picked another point at random. “And I know you like jazz. And,” he added, his voice growing in authority, “you’re conscientious enough to point out that I don’t know you.”

A smile crept over her lips, even as she stooped to pick up the spoon Jackie had dropped. “Isn’t that like a catch-22?”

Jack nodded. “And you’re intelligent,” he added, then played his ace. “And I’m desperate.”

Zooey couldn’t help the laugh that rose to her lips. “Intelligent and Desperate. Sounds like a law firm in an Abbott and Costello routine.”

Jack looked mildly surprised. He didn’t expect a twenty-something woman to be even remotely familiar with the comedy duo from the forties and fifties. “Anyone who knows things like that is above reproach,” he told her.