LITMIR.BIZ

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smiled. “You’re hired.”

      Carla grabbed her purse off the kitchen counter. “Sounds too much like work to me. I’m off for those curtain rods. Back in a flash.” She waved goodbye on her way out, and Ben heard her tell the movers the door better be back on its hinges when she returned. So she’d be back. He’d better work fast.

      Julie smiled at him. “Thanks for the offer of help. You really don’t have to stay.”

      Ben shook his head. “I don’t mind at all. A little adult company is always welcome.” And now that they were alone, he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity. He grabbed a bunch of paper towels from a roll and wet them at the sink. “And I can see you have your hands full. I guess all single parents do.”

      She turned slightly away from him, leaning over to open a box. “It’s just all so new, I guess.”

      He tried not to leer at her backside, with limited success. It was a very nice backside. What the hell, she couldn’t see him. He jerked his gaze from her jeans as she turned around. He had to think a minute before he could remember what she’d just said. “Ah, what, being a single parent?”

      She nodded. “I just adopted Marisa two days ago.”

      “Brave woman, walking into single parenting with your eyes open.”

      She laughed. “I don’t know how open they were.” She turned half away, started rinsing a pile of plates one by one, stacking them on the counter, her arms graceful, in and out of the water. “I was her guardian ad litem for four years. She’s been in foster care, and when she had to be moved to a new foster home, I just couldn’t stand to see her have to start all over again.”

      “So you decided to adopt her? Just like that?”

      “More or less.” She made a wry face, and he guessed it had been a little more complicated than that. She dried the stack of plates and set them into the cupboard above the dishwasher.

      “Do you get a lot of people telling you how much they admire you?”

      She laughed. “Yes. And so far I’ve felt like I’m doing a totally unadmirable job.”

      “Oh, that never ends. It’s always going to be harder when you’re going it alone. You don’t have anyone to bounce your thoughts off.” He shook his head. “Or if you do, sometimes they end up making you feel worse.” She turned to him, concern clear on her face, and he gave her a wry grin. “I’m guessing I’m not making you feel any better, here.”

      She laughed at that. “Not at all. But next time you need to bounce some thoughts off someone, come bounce them off me. I’ll try not to make you feel worse.” She smiled, that fascinating curve of slightly parted lips. What was it about her smile? If he didn’t watch out, he could lose himself in it.

      She crossed to the stack of unopened boxes again, struggling for a moment opening one. He pulled his penknife out of his pocket and squatted beside her, his knees brushing hers lightly. She moved out of his way, and he wished she hadn’t.

      For the next half hour, while the movers put the door back on its hinges and cleaned up after themselves, he and Julie worked together, she unpacking boxes, rinsing dishes and pans, and putting them away; he wiping cupboards and trying not to obviously watch her stretching and bending and doing other fascinating things.

      Just as Julie was finishing stacking pots in the cupboard under the stove, Carla returned, her arms sprouting curtain rods, and Marisa came in from the backyard with Joe. “Julie…Mom, I mean. I’m hungry.”

      “Me, too, Dad.” Big surprise. The kid had a hollow leg.

      Julie looked as if all she wanted to do was collapse on the couch, but she grinned at Marisa. “I hope you’re willing to have peanut butter for dinner, then, because I am not up to cooking.”

      “How about we call for pizza?” Ben looked around for the phone. “My treat—in honor of Marisa’s first day in her new house.” He gave Marisa a smile, and she rewarded him with a bright one of her own. Nice kid, that one. “You do like pizza, right?”

      Marisa nodded, her eyes wide. “I love pizza.”

      “Yea, pizza!” Joe jumped up and down. “Spicy Tomato, Daddy!” He turned to Marisa. “That’s the best one. But LaMama’s is good, too. We get pizza all the time, so we know the best ones.”

      “Well, not all the time,” Ben said.

      “Yeah, we have macaroni and cheese sometimes, too.” Joe pursed his lips. “I like Power Rangers macaroni and cheese better than Rugrats, Daddy.” He turned back to Marisa. “But if we get Spicy Tomato, we have to eat all of it, because Spicy Tomato isn’t as good at breakfast. LaMama’s is, though, huh, Daddy?”

      Ben grinned, a little weakly. Carla said, “That’s what you get for teaching kids to talk.”

      AS THE FIVE OF THEM WERE eating the pizza, Ben picked up a flier that had been delivered with it. Noted Parenting Expert Maynard Frader To Speak.

      That Frader idiot again. Maggie was forever clipping his column and bringing it with her when she visited. He tossed the flier on the table.

      Julie picked it up. She pursed her lips. “This is what I need.”

      “That windbag! What about him?”

      Julie laughed. “Maybe you should at least hear what he has to say before you call him a windbag.”

      “I’ve read his column. The man has no idea of the real challenges facing parents.”

      “He’s supposed to be an expert.”

      Some expert. “How can he be an expert when he has no kids of his own?”

      “He has a Ph.D., that’s how.”

      Carla was watching them, her avid gaze switching from one to the other as if she were watching a Ping-Pong match.

      Ben bit his tongue. Better to say nothing than to get himself in trouble.

      Julie eyed him suspiciously, as if she knew what he was thinking. “You think you know all the answers, don’t you?”

      He shrugged. “Of course not. I just know what’s best for my kid.”

      “And you don’t think you could improve things?”

      “Not by listening to a bunch of advice from someone who probably doesn’t know any more than I do.”

      Julie frowned at the flier. “But how could it hurt?”

      “It could confuse you, that’s how it could hurt.” He took a bite of pizza to give himself a minute to think. “He says one thing, someone else says something else. Who’s right? You just have to trust your instincts.”

      “That’s your whole parenting plan? Trust your instincts?”

      He shrugged. “It’s worked so far.”

      She eyed him, looking unconvinced. She had great eyes, a great color of blue. Even when they were all narrowed up like that. He took another bite of pizza and grinned at her, and an answering smile crept over her lips. She knew he was enjoying the view and she didn’t seem to mind a bit.

      Now, this was an interesting woman.

      AFTER BEN AND JOE LEFT for the night, Julie said to Marisa, “Bedtime.”

      “What about my bath?”

      “Oh, right. Bath time, I mean.” Another first. Was there any special trick to bathing a five-year-old? She looked at Carla.

      “You’re on your own, girlfriend. It’s the kind of thing you can only learn by doing.” Carla lay back on the couch. “Besides, I’m exhausted from my exertions.”

      Julie found the pile of boxes marked “Books” and pulled the largest one open. Every Parent’s Guide To Doing The Right Thing was on top.

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