Loving Miss Libby (4 page)

She sighed.  How sad these children had lost their
mother.  It had been so difficult for her losing her own father.  Was it
equally horrible to lose a mother?  Or perhaps even worse?  Who but a mother
could show a child, well—a mother’s love?

Libby left the family room and returned to her
laundry room.  She started a load in the washer, pulled a load from the dryer,
and walked quietly to her bedroom.  She began folding the laundry, and then put
the items away.  Once done, she did some light cleaning in her guest bathroom,
and then followed by heading to her home office, where she checked her computer
for personal emails.  After replying to those that required responses, she rose
from her chair.  She wondered how long the children would sleep. 

Suddenly, she registered the sound of her doorbell. 
She dashed out of the room and hurried to the door.  Flinging it open, she
hoped to stop the visitor from ringing a second time.  She doubted the kids
would sleep through it.

She found Dan standing on the small front porch,
dressed in his uniform, and looking tired.  He smiled.  “Hi.  I’m sorry I’m so
late.”

Libby gave a dismissive wave and stepped aside,
indicating to him to come inside.  She held a finger to her lips, gesturing for
him to be quiet.  He walked into the foyer and she closed the door behind him. 

“The kids are sleeping,” she whispered.  “We had a
busy day.”

He nodded.  “I’m sure they’re tired.  We got up
early this morning, since we had plans to spend the day together. 
Unfortunately, I got the call into work.”

“Were you called out to a bad crash?” she asked him.

He nodded.  “I’m afraid so.”  He gave her a
speculative glance.  “The kids told you about my job?”

“Yes.”

He nodded again and gave a weary sigh.  “I’ve been
doing this particular job for almost four years.  In a few months, I’ll be going
out of the unit and I’ll be handing over my pager.”

“I imagine it’s difficult—being on call, when you
have small children.”

“It is.  Inevitably, I’m called out when we have
plans.”

“Do you get called out a lot at nighttime?”

“Yes.  More than I’d like.”

She considered his words.  She wondered who watched
the kids when he was called out.  It was as if he’d read her mind, since he
responded.  “My folks don’t live too far from here.  When I’m called out at
night, either my mom comes here or I take the kids over there.”

“It must be nice having your parents so close.”

“It is,” he said.  “But I’m afraid they won’t be at
my beck and call much longer,” he added wearily.  She wondered why, but didn’t
ask, not wanting to be too intrusive.

“Well, shall we wake up the kids so we can get out
of your hair?” he asked.

“You don’t have to wake them up unless you really
want or need to,” she said.  “They haven’t been sleeping long.”  She gestured
for him to follow her and she led him into the family room.

She watched his face when he saw his sleeping
children.  Eyes that had been weary and heavy, softened.  He watched them
briefly, and turned to her.  “Wow, it’s not often they fall asleep at the same
time.”  He suddenly looked uncertain.  “I don’t know what to do with myself.” 
His eyes widened, and then fixed on her face.  “Yes, yes I do.” 

He spun around and headed for the front door.  She
followed, her brows furrowed in question.  “I’ll be right back,” he told her,
and then hurried outside and jogged down the front steps and toward his house.

“Okay
,
what seems to be the problem?” Dan asked Libby.

They were standing in her garage, staring down at
her inoperable gas lawn mower.  Dan was dressed in Levis, a t-shirt that had
seen better days—but that couldn’t have looked better on him—and a pair of old
work boots. 

He was standing so close to Libby, she felt as if
she couldn’t take a proper breath.  She realized it was a good thing the big
garage door was open, or she’d probably pass out from lack of air.  What was
wrong with her?

Sure, he was attractive, but then her ex-boyfriend
Tate was attractive too.  She couldn’t recall him ever making her heart go
pitter patter in her chest.  There was just something about Dan.  Outwardly, he
was tall, rugged—the poster boy for tough cop.  But she’d seen his tender side
on many occasions, often when he had no idea she was witness to it.

Sometimes, when she was gardening in her yard, she
could hear him talking to his children.  He was so patient and loving with
them.  It was evident they were the center of his world. 

When Marky plied him with questions, constantly
asking ‘why’, as small children often do, he never seemed to grow frustrated
with him.  Instead, he answered each and every question.  She remembered a time
when he didn’t know an answer to one of his son’s questions, and he promptly
stopped what he was doing and the two went into the house together.  She’d
heard Dan announce they were going to consult the Internet for the answer to
that all-important question.

She wondered how many fathers would have done that? 
Having lost her own father at an early age, she couldn’t say for sure.  But
unfortunately, what she remembered of her father wasn’t particularly
heartwarming.  The picture of him in her memory and mind’s eyes was of a
formidable man—loud, impatient, and boisterous.  She remembered having been
nervous around him when he got off work each evening—of her mother warning her
and her sister to keep the noise level down, so as not to upset him.

She abruptly searched her brain.  Had her own father
ever been loving toward her?  She couldn’t recall.  Had he ever hugged her, or
soothed her when she skinned her knees?  Had he read her bedtime stories, or
kissed her on the cheek when he sent her to bed?  She simply couldn’t
remember. 

When Dan asked her a question, breaking into her
disturbing thoughts, she felt relief.  

“What seems to be the problem with it?” he prompted
again. 

She smiled self-consciously.  “Well, it was mowing
fine, but suddenly stopped.”

He nodded and attempted to start it.  Nothing
happened.  “It doesn’t have spark,” he observed.  “I’ll be right back.  I need
to get a spark plug wrench out of my tool chest.  Unless, you have one?”

She shook her head, uncertain exactly what tool he
meant.

“Not a problem,” he said, as he hurried away to get
the tool.

Upon his return, he crouched down and removed the
spark plug from the mower.  “The tip is corroded,” he told her, and pulled a
new one from his pant pocket.  He installed the new spark plug, and then rose
and pulled the starter cord.  It roared to life, but he hastily shut it down,
lest the noise wake up the kids.   

“It works,” Libby said with relief.  “I was afraid I
was going to have to buy a new one, and I really can’t afford a big purchase
right now.”

He gave a commiserating nod.  “It should be fine
now.” 

“How much do I owe you for the plug?” she asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a rueful
smile.  “Do you forget?—my kids are currently sleeping in your house.  Well
then, that plug should do the trick,” he said, wiping his hands on a rag she’d
given him.  “I’ll mow your lawn for you after the kids wake up.  It’s the least
I can do, considering you’ve given up the biggest part of your day to help me
out.”

“That’s not necessary.  I’ll probably finish mowing
tomorrow.”

“Hey, you babysat for me, and I intend to pay you
back.”  When she protested again, he stood firm.  “No, Libby, you did me a huge
favor, and gave up your afternoon in the process.  You didn’t sign up to
babysit my children.  I’m going to either pay you, or help you out by doing
some yard work for you.”

Libby smiled awkwardly.  It was evident he wasn’t
going to be deterred.  It did say a lot about his character that he was
determined to pay her for her time.  He could just as easily have thanked her
for her trouble and gone on his way.  Well, had his kids not been sleeping in
her family room he could have gone on his way.

“Are you hungry?” she asked him, to fill the silence
that had settled over them.  “The kids and I baked cupcakes…”

“I’d love a cupcake,” he enthused.  “I can’t
remember when I had anything home baked.”

“Well, to be honest, the cupcakes come from a box
mix, but they are good.”

“Hey, I’m happy either way,” he assured her,
smiling.

She smiled in return and indicated he should follow
her into the kitchen.  From the garage, they passed through a combination
mudroom, laundry room, and then entered the expansive country kitchen.

“Nice kitchen,” Dan said, as he dropped wearily into
a chair at the dinette table.

“Thank you.  I really like it.  So, would you like
milk or coffee with your cupcake?”

“If the coffee’s made, I’d love some.”

The coffee wasn’t already made, but Libby hurriedly
put some to brewing.

“Oh, hey, I didn’t mean for you to have to make a
fresh pot…”

“I could use a cup too.”

He winced.  “Did the kids take a lot out of you?”

“Goodness, no,” she assured him.  “We had a terrific
time.  They’re great kids.”

He visibly relaxed.  “So they didn’t give you too
much trouble.”

“Not at all,” she said, sounding surprised at the
suggestion.

“Wow, they must really like you,” Dan observed, and
nodded his thanks for the coffee mug she put in front of him.  She followed by
passing him a cupcake on a small plate.  “Looks good,” he said.

“Cream and sugar for your coffee?” she asked.

“Sure,” he said.

She sat down at the table with a coffee, forgoing a
cupcake, since she’d already eaten one with the children.  Dan peeled back the
paper lining and bit into it. 

“It’s good,” he said.

She smiled.  “The kids had a lot of fun decorating them.”  

“I’m sure they did,” he said, smiling softly.  “My
mom baked with them quite a lot, until recently, that is.”  He gave a weary
sigh, but tapped the tabletop with his hand and appeared to rally.  “So, if I
hadn’t dropped my kids into your lap, what would you have been doing today?”

She gave a self-conscious smile.  “Nothing too
exciting, I’m afraid.”  She cocked her head in thought.  “I would have finished
mowing, maybe done some weeding…”  She gave a tentative laugh.  “Wow, not
much.”

She glanced off, toward the window above the kitchen
sink.  Preoccupied, she continued staring at the cloudless sky and the tree
branches framed within the large window.  It was rather startling for her to
realize that absent her neighbor children, she would have had a quiet,
uneventful day—typical of her weekends of late.

When had her life become so stale?  Why had she let
it?  Sure, she’d broken up with her boyfriend recently, but that didn’t mean
she was sentenced to sitting around in her house, lonely and bored.  And there
was only so much yard work a person could do without tiring of it.

Dan cleared his throat, and Libby snapped her face
toward him.  She gave an embarrassed smile.  “Sorry, I sort of went off
daydreaming right then.”

He laughed.  “Imagining how blissfully quiet it’ll
be around here when we get out of your hair?”

Libby gave him a startled glance.  She really had
enjoyed her time with the kids.  In fact, she hated to see it end.  As if on
cue, Kate walked into the kitchen, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

“Dad!” she cried when she spied her father.  “What
are you doing here?”

He chuckled.  “I’ve come to get you, that’s what.”

“Marky is still sleeping,” she told him.  “We can’t
leave now.”

“Really?  You don’t want to leave your brother
sleeping in the chair, and the two of us make a run for it?”

“Oh, Dad,” she said in a scolding tone.  “He can be
a pain, but we
have
to keep him.”

Libby laughed, as did Dan.  He hurriedly ate the
cupcake in two bites, and then rose from the table.

“Where’re you going, Dad?” Kate asked.

“I’m going to mow Miss Libby’s lawn.”

“But what about Marky…?” Libby said.

“He can sleep through anything,” Dan and Kate said
in unison.

Dan checked his watch.  “Hey, we’re not too far away
from supper time.”  He gave Libby a hesitant glance.  “I don’t suppose…”

“Yes, Daddy!” Kate exclaimed, clapping her hands
together.

“Libby, would you care to join us for a
barbecue?—after I’ve mowed your lawn.”

“You really don’t have to mow…”

He cut her off with a mock-stern stare.  “Yes, I
do.  And I can feed you too.  It’s the least I can do.”  He grinned at her
uncertain face.  “Hey, you have to eat…”

“Please, Miss Libby,” Kate begged.

“Please,” Dan said, emulating his daughter.