Mistletoe Mommy

“Yes!” Geoff agreed vehemently.

Brenna got the impression that Adam’s son would agree to anything that led to getting fed. She hesitated, thinking of everything she needed to get done at her home office. Then again, how could she refuse when dinner had been her idea in the first place?

“I’ll let you pick up the tip,” Adam said, adding under his voice, “I’m not sure I’m ready to be left alone with these three again. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

She laughed. “All right,” she agreed as she climbed out of the car.

Even though he’d had a joking tone, she believed him when he said he wasn’t ready to be alone with the kids. Though he was an intelligent, funny man—and a surgeon, for pity’s sake, which indicated a high level of capability—he did seem a bit awkward with his own children. Parenting just didn’t come naturally to some.

Brenna knew that better than anyone.

Chapter Three

Bracing himself, Adam prepared to lay down the law if the kids resumed their bickering now that Brenna had disappeared into the blue house. But Morgan seemed content telling Lady Evelyn how cute she was, and Eliza had her eyes closed and gave every appearance of napping. Geoff, in contrast, was practically vibrating with excitement.

“Way to go, Dad! She’s a babe.”

Adam choked. “Geoffrey, that’s not an appropriate way for you to discuss Ms. Pierce.”

“Oh, but—” his son looked more bemused than chastised “—didn’t you see her?”

What was more disturbing? That the kid who’d thought girls were gross a few years ago was now scoping out older women, or that Adam wholeheartedly agreed with the fifteen-year-old’s assessment?

“I saw her. And she is attractive,” he admitted in a vast understatement. “You need to show more respect, though.”

“Sorry,” Geoff mumbled. “I just wanted to be, you know, supportive. Do you ever date?”

Rarely. His job occupied most of his waking hours, and more than once he’d sat up in bed realizing he’d been going through a case or procedure in his sleep.

“Are we gonna have two mommies like we have two daddies?” Morgan asked.

“What?” Adam spun in his seat so that he could better face his children. “No, pumpkin. Of course not. I only met Ms. Pierce a few minutes ago.”

“But Geoff said you might date. Mama and Daddy Dan used to date and now they’re married.” She concluded her observation with a nod, agreeing with her own logic.

“That’s true, but—”

“If we get more parents, do we get more presents?” Morgan wanted to know.

She was turning five at the end of next week, so birthday presents were uppermost in her mind. Sara and Dan had hosted an early party for her, not wanting her big day to be eclipsed by their recent mid-June wedding. Sara had told Adam it was up to him to figure out a way to celebrate the actual day on vacation. She wouldn’t even advise him what gift to get, as she had for most previous birthdays and Christmases.

“It should be from you,” she’d insisted gently.

“How about just a hint?” he’d wheedled. She’d laughed but hadn’t answered. Some of Morgan’s interests were obvious, of course. She loved pink and she loved animals, but he had no idea what toys she already owned, or if certain brands of adorable puppy figurines were preferable to others.

Before Adam could repeat that no one was getting additional parents anytime soon, Eliza straightened, opening her eyes just enough to glare at him. Naturally.

“Dad is not here to date,” she informed her siblings. “Mom promised this trip would be all about him spending time with us. Right?” She hurled the one-word question at Adam like a shot put.

Underneath the hostility was so much vulnerability that Adam wanted to scramble over the seat and hug her.

As if she’d let you. This was one prickly kid. He couldn’t help wondering if Sara had shielded him from this, sighing and taking care of the preteen’s attitude, instead of calling to yell at him for the monster he’d created. Had she talked to the kids before he came over last Thanksgiving, admonishing them to be on their best behavior? Or had Eliza simply bottled all this up, saving it for the right target? Not having any brothers or sisters himself, he couldn’t determine whether being the middle child was truly the most difficult family position, but it seemed accurate in Eliza’s case.

Morgan had been so young when he and Sara split up that she didn’t clearly remember a time they’d been married. Geoff had been old enough to understand how critical Adam’s job was, that sometimes it really was a matter of life or death, and he’d been coming into more independent years, so he hadn’t been as bothered by Adam’s absences. At least, that was the mature stance he projected; Adam had let himself buy into it because it was comforting. But Eliza…She’d fallen somewhere in between, and the divorce had wounded her badly.

“This trip is definitely about you kids,” he vowed. “I’ve never taken this much time off work before, and—”

“We’re so sorry to have messed up your schedule,” she snapped.

He’d said what he had to make her feel important, not to complain about being inconvenienced. What would Sara do? He couldn’t imagine his ex-wife allowing Eliza to be a brat. Then again, Sara had never done anything to earn such legitimate enmity. Was Adam reaping what he deserved? Regardless, this wasn’t the tone he wanted to set for the rest of their stay in Mistletoe, nor was it the behavioral example he wanted to set for Morgan.

“Eliza, I have to ask you to watch your tone,” he said. Her eyebrows shot up, her dark eyes firing sparks at him, but he pressed bravely forward. “I understand you’re angry—”

“You don’t understand me! You don’t even know me!”

“I’m trying to,” he said firmly.

She met his gaze, but said nothing further. Finally she looked out the window. Was it his overly hopeful imagination, or had a tiny bit of tension drained from her slim body? At least she seemed to be thinking about what he’d said, instead of firing back a rejoinder about how they were just fine without him. Small steps.

After all, no one walked into an operating room their first day of med school and performed a cardiopulmonary bypass. There were lessons that had to be learned, techniques that had to be perfected. He didn’t delude himself that he would ever be a perfect father, but surely, with practice, he could do better than this. Half the time she gave the hostile impression that she would take out a contract hit on him if only her allowance were high enough.

Figuring he’d done what he could to pacify one daughter for the moment, he turned to the other. Morgan had watched the exchange with increasingly wide eyes.

He reached between the seats, awkwardly patting her on the knee. “You okay, pumpkin?”

“Yeah.” She wrinkled her nose. “Just hungry.”

“We’ll eat right after we take the dog home,” Adam promised.

Geoff beamed at him. “I got so wigged-out the first time I asked Gina for a date that I thought I was gonna blow chow. Without even trying, you got a girl to invite you to dinner and she offered to pay. Awesome.”

Adam pinched the bridge of his nose. Well, at least one of my kids thinks I’m doing something right.

AS ADAM NAVIGATED the crowded parking lot outside the Dixieland Diner, Brenna dialed Quinn Keller’s number. The two women had been casual acquaintances for years, but recently they’d become closer friends. Quinn lived in a duplex, two adjoining homes that shared a front and backyard. The other half belonged to Dylan Echols, who’d surprised his widowed mother with a maltipoo puppy on Mother’s Day. But he’d been thoughtful enough to first work with Brenna for a few weeks to get the dog housebroken and trained to obey basic commands. Quinn, a teacher at White-berry Elementary, had watched the pup’s progress from her front porch and even helped with a few lessons.

As the two women got to know each other, they’d discussed Quinn working part-time for Brenna once business was more established. Brenna wanted to grow her customer base for financial reasons and job security, but even with the number of clients she already had, she was hard-pressed to handle the volume of summer and holiday visits—the same times of the year that Quinn had off from teaching—by herself. If Quinn would answer her phone now, she could even ride with Brenna on a few jobs tonight as preliminary training.

Unfortunately Brenna only reached a mechanical voice telling her to leave a message. She knew Adam would take her home if she asked but she’d already imposed and didn’t want to take the Varners farther out of their way after their long day on the road. So call Fred or Josh. No biggie. It shouldn’t be a “biggie.” After all, she’d been part of their family for nearly twenty years.

But she’d been conditioned for the formative first thirteen years of her life not to get too attached, that she didn’t truly belong anywhere.

Would she have overcome that neurosis if Fred, her stepfather, hadn’t remarried Josh’s mother, Maggie? That woman had been the true love of Fred Pierce’s life, but in their first marriage they’d grown apart over time and divorced. He’d hastily rebounded with Brenna’s mother, only to have her slink off in the middle of the night for parts unknown. Though Brenna had never asked, she’d often wondered if his emotional response to being abandoned had mirrored hers—equal parts betrayal and relief.

About a year later, Maggie had been diagnosed with ovarian cancer, still at an early stage. The medical crisis had shaken Fred enough that he’d started courting her again. Josh had what all children-of-divorce secretly dreamed of—his parents back together, his family a healed whole.

With Brenna as the fly in the ointment. Awkward.

Ancient history, she told herself. She’d risen above her unorthodox upbringing, loved the entire Pierce family; she was a productive member of society. Whose previous boyfriend dumped you because you relate better to animals than people.