LITMIR.BIZ

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bad about ducking out on lunch yesterday. It wouldn’t hurt to check in on her.

      “We’ll see,” he said again, tamping down an unexpected flicker of anticipation. “We’ll see.”

      * * *

      “Davy! Breakfast is ready!”

      Abby poured a glass of milk for her nephew and set it on the kitchen table. Then she popped a striped straw into Davy’s glass and stepped back to view her handiwork. What would he think of the colorful table setting she’d thrown together? She’d woven a place mat from wide strips of yellow and lime-green construction paper and cut out the toast with a round cookie cutter to make a smiley face. A blueberry-eyed peeled banana now stood on toothpick legs.

      Davy had been disappointed when Joe came home late yesterday afternoon only long enough to shower and head back for a shift of work. His mother hadn’t come home at all—the doctors wanted to keep her another night for observation. But maybe the whimsical breakfast table would start his day on a positive note and after school his mom would be home.

      She could hear him bumping around upstairs, but she hadn’t let the dog in last night so that shouldn’t be the cause of his delay this morning. Is this how Meg always started her day? Trying to get out the door to work while rounding up a foot-dragging Davy? Nevertheless, Abby couldn’t help a twinge of envy. Meg was mother to an adorable stepson and soon to give birth to a baby girl. Would Jori have Joe’s smile? Meg’s eyes?

      “Here I come!” Davy hollered, footsteps pounding as he clambered down the stairs. He dashed into the kitchen, then came to a halt in front of the table, eyes wide. “Is it your birthday or something, Aunt Abby?”

      She laughed. “No. I thought you might enjoy an extra happy breakfast.”

      “My toast has a jelly smile,” he pointed out as he pulled out a chair and sat down. “Can I eat it?”

      “Yes, you can eat it. I’ll dish up your oatmeal when you’re done with that.”

      “Awesome. Is Brett coming to breakfast, too?”

      She certainly wouldn’t invite Brett to breakfast, especially not after he’d turned down the invitation to lunch yesterday. She couldn’t decide if she was more disgruntled with him for not helping her out when she’d practically pleaded or with herself for looking to a stranger to ease tensions between her and Dad.

      “What makes you think he’d be coming to breakfast?”

      Davy leaned over to grasp the strings attached to the drapery rod and drew back the curtains of the French doors overlooking the patio. He pointed to the detached two-car garage at the rear of the spacious treed lot. “I saw him from my window upstairs.”

      Sure enough, there was Brett, a cowboy hat topping his head as he hauled a ladder from the back of a gray pickup. What was he doing here? Shouldn’t he be on his way to work?

      “Maybe he’s hungry.” Davy took a bite of his toast. “Brett’s always hungry at the church potlucks.”

      Abby looked down at the festive table, where she’d been about to join Davy. Toast. A banana. Soon-to-be oatmeal. Hardly enough to sustain a man the size of Brett.

      She moved closer to the glassed door. “Where’s he going with that ladder?”

      “Dunno.”

      She watched a moment longer, then returned to the stove to stir the oatmeal. “Go ahead and eat. He won’t be expecting breakfast, and you need to finish getting ready for school.”

      Davy took another bite of toast, then again leaned back in his chair for a better view of what was going on outside. “Oh, man, he brought Elmo.”

      “Who’s Elmo?” She doubted a Sesame Street character had accompanied Brett but, if the sudden onslaught of barking was any indication, she could almost guess the answer.

      “His black Lab. He and Camy are best friends.” Davy stood up. “Look at her. She’s going crazy to get out of her pen.”

      Abby moved to the door once more, then looked up at the wall clock. Seven-fifteen. The neighbors probably loved the canine serenade, but the two young dogs did seem particularly pleased to see each other, tongues lolling as they cavorted on either side of Camy’s enclosure.

      “Sit down and eat, Davy. You can’t be late for school.”

      “I don’t want to go to school.” But he nevertheless slumped back into his chair. “Nobody would miss me if I stayed home and played with Camy, Elmo and Brett today.”

      She again returned to the stove and dished up a bowl of oatmeal, then set it in front of him. “There are three more days of school left and these last days before summer vacation are always the most fun. I doubt Brett and Elmo will be here long. It looks like he’s dropping off a ladder for your dad.”

      Davy didn’t look convinced.

      They were finishing breakfast—Davy had only to eat his banana and he’d be done—when a knock came at the back door off the utility room.

      “Brett!” Davy jumped up, but she reached out to stay him.

      “Sit down, please. I’ll get it. You just eat.” Meg and Joe were trusting her with Davy. She couldn’t allow him to be tardy on the one day she saw him off to school. Not surprisingly, when she opened the door Brett stood on the back porch, hat in hand.

      To her irritation, her heart beat faster at the sight of his cheerful smile.

      “Mornin’, ma’am. Sorry for the ruckus a bit ago. I guess the pups were happy to see each other.”

      “I got that impression, too, as I’m sure the neighbors did, as well.”

      His eyes sparked with amusement. “I thought I’d better stop by and give you warning that Elmo and I’ll be around the property painting Joe’s garage today.”

      Didn’t he have a job at the equine center? “So your dog’s good with a paintbrush?”

      A dimple surfaced. “Probably as good as I am, sad to say.”

      She glanced over his shoulder toward the building in question. Joe hadn’t mentioned Brett would be doing handyman work. From where she stood, the garage didn’t look like it needed paint. But what did she know? “So, you’re telling me this will be a ‘pardon me, ma’am’ day?”

      He cocked his head in question.

      “That’s what my mother calls it when you have a repairman popping in and out interrupting you. You know, pardon me ma’am but may I borrow a wrench? May I use your restroom? May I have a drink of water?”

      Brett grinned. “I shouldn’t need any wrenches.”

      But he’d be underfoot all day. She glanced again at the garage. Did it truly need sprucing up? “It’s nice of you to paint Joe’s garage.”

      His eyes twinkled. “Not really. He’s paying me.”

      Should she invite him in? Offer a cup of coffee to start his day? She couldn’t afford to have him engage Davy in lengthy conversation and risk making him late for school.

      “Do you want my banana, Brett?” Davy called from the kitchen table, just out of the cowboy’s line of vision.

      Brett’s amused gaze momentarily caught hers, then he called back. “Thanks. But I’ve had breakfast. That banana’s all yours.”

      “I don’t like bananas.”

      Great. He’d kept quiet about that.

      “This one has legs, too.”

      Brett raised a brow and she nodded.

      “And eyes,” Davy added.

      As Brett’s disbelieving gaze questioned her, Abby sighed and stepped back from the open door. “Come on in. You may as well see for yourself.”

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