His-And-Hers Twins

August picked a pepperoni off her pizza, licked it, then popped it into her mouth. “And how will you get a wive?”

“A wife,” Zeke corrected. “Honey, I don’t want a new wife. I’m happy being with the two of you.” He raked his hand through his hair and shook his head at Henrietta as she pawed at his feet. “No, Henrietta, pizza will give you heartburn.” Ignoring Henrietta’s woeful look, he turned his attention back to his daughters. “Listen, girls, I know you miss your mom, but we’ve talked about this before. You have me, and we’re a family—all by ourselves.”

August poked out her bottom lip. “But you’re a boy,” August said as if it were a news flash.

“Of course, I’m a boy,” Zeke said patiently.

“But boys can’t be mommies,” Summer protested.

Zeke’s throat clogged. “Honey, I’ll try my best to be both a mother and father to you.”

“But boy mommies can’t come to our Mommy and Me Tea at preschool. Only girl mommies!”

Zeke felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach. How could he have forgotten that Mother’s Day was coming up? Because he was an idiot.

At least he’d finally discovered the crux of the problem. “When is the mother tea?” he finally asked.

“Next week,” Summer said, sounding stricken. “Friday.”

“Yeah. Everybody else’s mommies will be there.”

Drive the knife in a little deeper, girls. Henrietta added to his guilt by whining and giving him a pitiful flop-eared look. He gritted his teeth and tossed her his pizza crust. If he could find Renee right now, he’d throttle her.

“I have an idea.” He forced a cheery smile. “Your grandmother can come. I’m sure she’d love to visit your school.”

Both girls’ faces fell.

“You can call her yourselves.” Zeke tried to brighten his voice with enthusiasm. “Maybe you could even spend the night with her.” And you could have a night out, a silent voice whispered. Call Paige. Have a date. A conversation with an adult, not a child or an animal.

Summer’s eyes lit up. “All night long?”

“Yep. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

August nodded. “Grandma lets us eat cookies for breakfast.”

Grandma would. Zeke ran a hand through his hair. Oh, well, it would only be one morning. And he had to do something for his heartsick daughters. He couldn’t allow them to be the only ones at school without a mother figure.

He handed them the phone. “Here, dial Grandma’s number. She’s been begging me to let you spend the night.”

Together the girls punched in the number. When he heard his mother’s voice screeching over the phone, he assumed by the pleased expressions on his daughters’ faces she’d accepted the invitation.

One more problem licked. At least temporarily.

When they hung up the phone, the girls’ moods had drastically changed. August gobbled another piece of pizza and Summer gulped her milk, then ran to the bathroom. He breathed a sigh of relief but the feeling disintegrated when Summer screamed. “Daddy!”

He sprinted through the house to find her. August trotted behind him, stepping on his heels in her haste.

Summer was standing in the bathroom, her eyes dazed. Her little hand shook when she pointed at the cat huddled in the bathtub. “What’s…wrong with Buffy?”

Zeke swallowed nervous laughter. “There’s nothing wrong with her,” he said gently. He knelt down beside the fat, panting calico cat and wrapped his arms around his daughters’ shoulders. He’d barely survived one traumatic moment before another struck.

Now, he had to explain the facts of life to his four-year-old daughters. Buffy was having kittens.

THE CREATIVE SIDE of design and the actual sewing intrigued Paige. She started sketching various ideas for the design project, considering fabric choice, cost and accessories as she worked. For this project, she only needed to design one outfit, but for her final, she’d design an entire wardrobe, taking into account the busy lives and schedules of the women who might wear her creations.

Several minutes later, she stared at the sketch, crumpled the paper and tossed it into the trash. The dress looked all wrong. Too high of a neckline. Not tapered enough. She started another drawing, but the telephone rang, disturbing her concentration.

Maybe it’s the sexy guy next door, calling to ask you for a date.

She reached for the phone, ordering herself to decline the invitation, then sighed in disappointment at the sound of Amelia’s voice. “Hi, Amelia.”

“Hey, Paige. You have to come to my party next week!”

“A party?” Paige blinked in surprise, searching her mind to see if she’d forgotten an important date. No holidays coming up. No birthdays. “What brought this on?” she asked, when nothing special registered.

“I’m getting married!” Amelia squealed so loudly Paige had to hold the phone away from her ear.

“Married? When? To whom?”

“To Derrick, of course. He asked me this afternoon!” Another bout of squeals filled the line. “We’re having an engagement party next Friday night. Can you come?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. But Amelia, this is happening so fast. Are you sure?”

Amelia laughed. “I am. He’s definitely my soul mate.”

“That’s great.” Paige twisted the phone cord around her fingers. So, now she was the last of the dying breed of single women among her friends. It shouldn’t bother her. And she was happy for Amelia.

“I would ask you to be my maid of honor, but we’re eloping,” Amelia continued. “He’s taking me to Paris on our honeymoon, I can’t wait, Paige. Life is wonderful.”

Paige’s hands instantly moved across her sketchpad as she began sketching a wedding dress. “I wish you were having a big wedding though. I’d like to design your dress.”

“I know.” Amelia sounded faintly disappointed. “But Derrick wants to get married right away and I’m afraid to wait. You know how guys are, he might change his mind.”

Don’t I? Eric had canceled their wedding the morning of the ceremony.

“Paige, I’m sorry, I know how that must have sounded.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Paige said. “I’m not going to rain on your parade, Amelia. And we are not going to talk about my failed love life.”

“Thanks, Paige, you’re the best,” Amelia said softly. “I’ll see you next Friday.”

The phone clicked into silence before Paige could think of a way to beg out of the party. She turned back to her project, but the house seemed unusually quiet. Growing up as an only child, she should have been used to be being alone. But she’d craved a big boisterous family with lots of sisters and brothers. In retrospect, maybe her need for a family was the reason she’d become so attached to Eric and his son.

But the silence hung in the air, echoing off the walls. Eerie, cold, almost smothering her with the emptiness.

Stop it. You have to get used to it.

Determined to forget Amelia’s wedding, she flipped on the radio and decided to make a batch of brownies. Comfort food always spurred her creativity. She threw the brownie ingredients into a bowl, stirred the thick rich batter and popped the mixture into a pan.