Hired by Her Husband (14 page)

She tried to tell them she was fine on her own. But they didn’t leave. George showed Lily how to peel carrots, and then he chopped them into pieces for Sophy to add to the potatoes and meat in the stew she was making.

They prepared the food together and then, while it was cooking, George suggested they take Gunnar for a walk in Central Park.

Lily was already running to the door. But Sophy had to say, “Are you sure? You’ve been on your ankle a lot today. And what about your head?”

“My head doesn’t hurt at the moment and the ankle isn’t
bad. I won’t overdo it. Promise.” He flashed her a grin that was half-hopeful, half-conspiratorial and altogether too appealing. “Come on, Sophy. Don’t be a spoilsport. How often do we get such a perfect day?”

And so she went. She wouldn’t be a spoilsport. And he was right about the perfect day.

It was a bright sunny crisp autumn afternoon and the leaves were turning gorgeous shades of red and gold. Lily, unused to seasonal changes, was thrilled with the “painted leaves.” She loved scuffing her feet through the piles on the ground, then picking up armfuls of them, twirling around and tossing them over her head.

“You should choose a few good ones,” George told her, “and you can make stained glass window pictures.”

“With leaves? Window pictures? How?” But Lily stopped spinning and began hunting leaves with George.

“We want whole ones,” he told her. “As perfect as you can find them. And the brightest colors. My mother used to do this with me and my brothers and sister every year. Don’t you want to help?” he said to Sophy when she stood back watching them, not wanting to intrude.

And so she began looking, too. They ended up crawling around on the ground, sorting through the leaves, picking and choosing, saving the best of the best.

“This can’t be good for your ankle,” Sophy protested once.

But George just shook his head. “Some things are more important than my ankle.” His gaze left hers, found Lily, and then after a moment of just watching his daughter crouched down in silent consideration of which was the better of two leaves, it came back to Sophy again as if to say, “See?”

“You’re right,” she said. “They are.”

Eventually they had collected a dozen brilliantly colored leaves, which Sophy was pressed into transporting as carefully
as possible while George held Gunnar on the leash and carried Lily on his shoulders as they walked back home again.

There, while Sophy watched, George taught Lily how to make the leaves into “stained glass” window pictures by laying them between two sheets of waxed paper, then spreading one of his old T-shirts over them and ironing them with a warm iron.

“Not too hot,” he explained. “We just want the wax from the two layers to melt together with the leaves inside. Here.” He lifted Lily up onto a chair and helped her lay the iron on them, then smooth it back and forth.

Sophy opened her mouth to tell him to be careful, to say that Lily was barely four, that she could get burned. But then she shut her mouth again because George was being careful. He was helping Lily do it herself, but at the same time making sure she didn’t get burned.

When at last Lily had pressed them to George’s satisfaction, he took the iron and set it over on the counter where she couldn’t accidentally touch it. Then he removed the T-shirt and held the rectangle of waxed paper up against the window.

The late afternoon sun shone through it, lighting up the leaves, making them gleam like stained glass against the windowpane.

Lily clapped her heads. “’S beautiful,” she said. “Look at the red. An’ the gold. Let’s do another.”

They had leaves enough left to do several more. So she did another. Then George started one. But after he’d put down two leaves, he looked over at Sophy. “Don’t just stand there,” he said. “Help me. I have no artistic skill whatsoever.”

It was patently not true. He knew what he was doing, but she appreciated the invitation. She stepped up to the ironing board to help. George handed her the leaves. Their fingers brushed.

It meant nothing.

Nothing!
Sophy assured herself. Yet hers seemed to tingle
after the barest touch. Surreptitiously she rubbed the tips on the side of her jeans, as if that would mask the feeling. It did nothing except make her fumble one of the leaves and tear it as she tried to lay it on the paper.

“Oh! I’m making a mess of this.”

“No, you’re not. It’s only torn. Nothing’s missing. Besides, it’s easily mended.” He took the leaf and laid it flat. Then with careful capable fingers, he pressed the tear together and laid the second piece of waxed paper on top of it, then flattened it down. Sophy took the T-shirt and spread it over them. Then, because he made no move toward the iron, she reached over and picked it up.

With the iron she pressed firmly down on the shirt, moving it slowly, rubbing it back and forth as George had done, then finally lifting it away. “Enough?”

Wordlessly George picked up the shirt and lifted the waxed papered leaves, holding them up to the light so the sun shone through them. “Beautiful,” he echoed Lily. Then he pointed to the leaf that had been torn.

“See? It’s fine. All better,” he said as Lily examined it closely. “Good as new.”

It was, Sophy thought, looking at it, too. You couldn’t even see the tear. Torn and then mended.

Like her heart?

She didn’t know, but it felt that way as the days passed and they grew together as a family…

On Monday George had to go up to the lab. He had grad students to work with and a project of his own he was working on. “Come with me?” he suggested that morning.

“Is your head bothering you?” Sophy asked immediately.

He hadn’t complained at all over the weekend. But he’d gone to bed early Sunday night—actually at the same time Lily did, which pleased the little girl no end. And it was much easier to get her to go to bed with the assurance that Daddy
was going to bed, too, and would be sleeping right down the hall.

He’d assured Sophy he was just tired, which she had readily believed. But now she wondered if he just hadn’t said.

“It’s not bad. Kind of a dull ache. Nothing like before. But,” he added with a grin, “if it will get you to come, I’ll bang it on something and make it hurt worse.”

Sophy couldn’t help laughing. “Don’t you dare.”

So she and Lily rode the metro train up the Hudson with George, and while he was working in the lab, they wandered around the streets of the local village, played a bit in a small local park and met George for lunch at a diner overlooking the river.

“Bored?” he asked. “If you want to take an earlier train back to the city, you can certainly do it. I didn’t think I’d be tied up this long.”

“We’re fine,” Sophy assured him. “We’ve had a good time exploring. We went in some antiques shops and a toy store and there’s a small local museum.”

“Give me another hour then?” George said. “And I’ll be ready. Come and get me at the lab.”

He finished his lunch quickly and strode away toward the lab. Sophy and Lily dawdled, watching a sailboat on the river and telling stories about where it might have been.

“I like sailboats.” Lily said. “Daddy says Uncle Theo has a boat. D’you think I can go on it? Can you an’ me an’ Daddy go sailing sometimes?”

“I—well…maybe,” Sophy said. Could they? Would they? A week ago she would have said it was impossible. Now, like the marines said, perhaps the impossible might happen. It only took a little longer.

When the hour was up, they walked up the hill to where the lab—which was really in a large house on a sprawling Hudson River acreage—was. George was sitting on the steps waiting for them. He had his briefcase beside him. But in his hands he
had something else bright blue and red and yellow and green which he finished putting together as they approached.

He stood up, grinning, the breeze tousling his hair, as he held it out toward Lily

Her eyes widened. “It’s a kite!”

It was indeed. And George told Sophy he had bought it at the toy store they’d visited earlier. He’d stopped in on his way back to the lab after lunch.

“I thought since you’ve been so patient, we might give it a whirl,” he said to Lily. “Have you ever flown a kite?”

She shook her head slowly, eyes still wide. “But I seed ’em. At the beach. And I wanted to.”

“Now’s your chance,” he said. “Just wait a minute while I put your mother’s together.”

“Mine?” Sophy blinked.

“More fun with two,” George said. “We can share. Okay?”

“Yes,” Sophy said, more delighted than she wanted to admit.

George put the kite together quickly, then tied tails on each of them and attached the balls of string. “Here’s the rub,” he said ruefully to Sophy. “After I had this great idea and bought the kites, I realized I can’t run worth a damn. In fact I can’t run at all. So—” he held out the ball of string “—if I hold it here, can you move out a ways and give it a pull? Run a bit if necessary?” His grin was abashed, but his eyes were twinkling.

And Sophy wondered how she was supposed to resist a man who made a kite for her?

She took the ball of string and backed away across the grass, playing the line out and keeping up the tension at the same time. Then he tossed the kite as she gave a jerk on the line and—

“There it goes!” cried Lily. “Lookit! Oh, lookit!” She pointed as the kite rose and dipped and then jerked on the
line in her mother’s hands. Sophy discovered she had to hang on tight or she would lose it.

“Are you sure about two of them?” she asked George, walking back toward him, trying to keep her eyes on the kite but finding them straying more often to the man.

“Let her hold that one,” George said. “And we’ll get this one up.”

“It’s pretty strong,” Sophy said cautiously.

“She’s a pretty strong girl, aren’t you, Lil?” George asked his daughter.

Lily held out her hands and bobbed her head. “I can do it, Mommy,” she said. “Please?”

So Sophy passed over the ball and George looped it around Lily’s wrist so she wouldn’t lose it, then placed it in her hands, showing her how to play out the string or pull it back if she needed to.

“How will I know?” Lily asked, her expression serious. Her tongue caught between her teeth.

“You just try,” George told her. “You do the best you can. You feel the way the wind pulls it and you trust your instincts.”

Sophy hoped that was good advice—to trust her instincts. Not just about kites but about life, because heaven help her, she was trusting hers.

Lily loved the kite flying. They all did. It was a fabulous day. And Lily protested when Sophy called a halt to it because she saw lines of strain around George’s mouth.

“It’s all right,” he said.

“It was,” she agreed, even as she brought her own kite down. “It was lovely. But we’re not going to overdo it.”

She thought he was going to argue with her.

“We can do it again another day,” she said quickly.

The mutinous look in his eyes faded instantly and he gave her a brilliant smile. “You’re right.”

She could tell his head was hurting by the time they got
back home. So she left Lily to take care of him while she took Gunnar out for a quick walk and picked up a pizza to bring home for supper.

When she got back it was nearly dusk and George was lying on the sofa with his eyes shut. Lily sat beside him stroking his hair. She looked up when Sophy appeared. “I’m the nurse,” she told her mother. “Daddy says this makes him feel better.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Sophy said gravely. “Now wash your hands and come and eat. Do you want any pizza, George?”

Wincing he sat up. “Yeah. Sure.” He got to his feet and started toward the kitchen. The pain in his face was obvious.

“Bed, I think,” Sophy said firmly.

“I’m all right. I can eat—”

“If you want pizza, I’ll bring it to you. Go up and go to bed. You overdid it. You need to lie down.”

“But I told Lily—”

“Lily wants to take care of you. She’ll understand that taking care of can mean letting someone sleep to get well. Now go.” She pointed toward the stairs.

It was evidence of exactly how much his head must really have been hurting that George didn’t object further.

He went.

He slept like the dead all night. Sophy knew because she got up to check on him several times and, in fact, spent the night in the room where Lily was sleeping right down the hall so she could be nearby if he needed anything.

He didn’t. And in the morning, while he was a little wan looking, he seemed none the worse for wear. He even took Lily and Gunnar to the park while Sophy got breakfast.

“Are you sure about this? You were pretty exhausted last night,” she reminded him.

“We’ll be fine,” he said. “Besides, I have Lily to take care of me.”

The little girl beamed.

Tallie called the next afternoon to see how George was. She was delighted to learn that Lily was there.

“The boys will want her to come over,” she said. “They want to meet their cousin. Can she come over Thursday afternoon and stay for dinner? I’d invite you and George, too,” Tallie went on frankly, “but I thought you two might like some time on your own, yes?”

Sophy swallowed, feeling slightly light-headed at the thought. She understood the wealth of meaning in Tallie’s invitation and in the suggestion that she and George spend time together. She knew, too, that with each step she was getting in deeper. But knowing, while it made her breathless, didn’t make her able to resist.

She didn’t even want to resist.

She wetted her lips. “That sounds like fun,” she said. “Lily would love that.”

Lily was, as expected, thrilled at the notion. She had made friends with Jeremy already. And having her very own friend right down the street to play with while George was at work and Sophy needed to get things done online and on the phone, was wonderful.

But the idea of cousins was even better. She’d never met a cousin before—except Natalie who was a grown-up and didn’t count. She could hardly wait until Thursday afternoon when she and Sophy would take the subway to Brooklyn and she could meet them.

And when Sophy’s phone rang midmorning, she said to Sophy, “Maybe that’s them, telling us to come early!”