Mistletoe Bay (13 page)

“I know, sweetie. The storm yesterday blew it down.” She hugged him tighter and planted a string of noisy kisses up his cheek while reaching into her coat pocket for the ever-present tissues. She made Corey blow his nose. “I should have made sure the tape was still up and secure before allowing you and Tucker to go outside and play today. It's my fault you got lost.”

“Jenni,” Coop said, “we have to be going. The storm's going to hit at any moment.” Thunder sounded in the distance over the ocean.

She stood up with Corey still in her arms. She wasn't about to let go of him till tonight, or next week, or maybe when he turned ten. A raindrop plopped on her head, causing her to hurry along the shoreline for home, where Dorothy, the boys, and the entire football team were waiting for them to celebrate.

“Now you're the weather man?” Was there anything Coop couldn't do? If there was, she hadn't seen it yet.

“Doesn't take a meteorologist to read those clouds.”

She shivered as rain started to fall in earnest. Corey nestled closer and ducked his head under her chin. She stopped and pulled the hood of his coat up over his head. She didn't want him getting sick.

Coop reached for Corey and plucked him out of her arms. Corey giggled at the game of being tossed around. “I'll carry him. We'll make it there faster, and drier.”

She wanted to argue with him but knew he was right. They would make much better time if he carried Corey. “Okay, but I get to hold him the rest of the day.”

Coop chuckled. “I think you might have to fight his grandmother, aunt, and brothers for that one.” With a curt nod to her coat, he added, “Pull your own hood up before you get sick.” Coop turned and hurried away.

She yanked up the hood, not because he'd told her to, but because she was getting wet.

Chapter Seven

Jenni watched as Corey took a bite of another cookie and grinned. Her youngest son was the center of attention and loving it. For once, Tucker was allowing one of his brothers to hog the limelight. That simple courtesy showed how scared Tucker had been for his little brother.

It was good to see that after all the trouble Tucker had been known to instigate or cause, he had a good heart underneath that Dennis the Menace attitude.

The storm outside finally hit full force about the time Coop, Corey, and she were a couple yards from the porch. During that last mad dash to the house, they had gone from wet to soaked. Corey had been immediately stripped and changed into dry clothes, and she had left her muddy sneakers on the front porch and was now wearing her fuzzy slippers and had damp hair.

Coop, on the other hand, had to make do with a towel and scraping the mud off his boots. The man had a route to finish and he seemed in a hurry to go. She couldn't blame him. There was an entire football team in her house, drinking hot chocolate, eating whatever Dorothy set before them, and playing video games. The entire defensive line was in the family room playing with Fred the iguana and Buster the turtle. They were trying to engineer a race between the two, but Buster wouldn't come out of his shell, and Fred was ignoring them and trying to eat the carpet.

The battle at Waterloo would have been quieter.

“Coop, don't you dare leave yet without a hug,” Dorothy shouted from across the kitchen, where she was pulling mini pizza bites from the oven. A couple of tacklers rushed her and nearly emptied the baking sheet before it made it to the counter.

Jenni watched as her laughing mother-in-law dodged and wove her way out of the crowded kitchen. By the looks of things, there was now an evening grocery shopping trip on her schedule and a major dent about to happen to her bank account. She didn't mind. The football team had come running to find her son. As far as she was concerned, they could empty every cabinet in the kitchen. She didn't even mind that it was pouring outside. What was a little water?

Dorothy practically threw herself into Coop's arms. “How can I ever thank you?”

Coop was gentleman enough not to stagger, but his brows shot up at the impact. “I believe you just did, Dorothy.” Coop's hands were gentle as he hesitantly patted the older woman on the back. Coop shot her an imploring glance over Dorothy's shoulder.

Jenni smiled back and glanced over at Felicity.

Her sister-in-law's jaw was sagging open and there was a look of pure horror in her eyes as she gazed at her mother in Coop's arms.

The small imp in Jenni wanted to make a comment, but she didn't. Felicity had been the first one out there frantically searching for Corey. Besides, Coop looked extremely uncomfortable with Dorothy plastered against his chest and her arms around his neck.

“Dorothy, ease up. I think you're choking him.” Jenni came to Coop's rescue.

Her mother-in-law took a quick step back and wiped her eyes. “I'm sorry. I'm just so thankful that you found Corey, words are failing me.”

“I take it you're no longer upset with me for taking so long to find the shutoff valve for the washing machine the other afternoon?” Coop reached over and plucked a paper napkin from the basket sitting on the kitchen table. He handed it to Dorothy.

“I forgave you for that as soon as the water stopped squirting me in the face.” Dorothy beamed as she wiped her eyes. “If I hadn't, you are definitely forgiven now.”

“I really didn't do anything, Dorothy, just walked along the shore until I spotted him sitting there.” Coop looked like a man who really did not like being the center of attention or praise.

“It doesn't matter. First thing in the morning I'll be calling your company and telling them what you did. You're a hero. You need a medal or a raise or something.” Jenni had never seen Dorothy look so determined.

“I'd rather you didn't.” Coop looked embarrassed.

Jenni tried to hide her smile as what appeared to be a blush swept up his cheeks. “I think she's right, Coop.” Even though a medal or a pay raise seemed little in the way of compensating for getting her son back. A bronze statue in the middle of the town square might be overkill, but to her, Corey was worth it.

Coop gave her a small glare before pulling on his wet jacket. “I've got to go and finish my route. Thanks for the coffee and oatmeal cookies, Dorothy. They were delicious as always.”

“What are you doing for Thanksgiving?” asked Dorothy.

Jenni looked at her mother-in-law as if she had just grown another head. What was her mother-in-law thinking? Felicity dropped the wooden spoon she had been using to stir the hot chocolate.

“Thanksgiving?” Coop seemed unsure where that question was leading. “I guess eating at my parents.”

“You guess?” Dorothy chuckled. “Don't you know?”

“My mom's been hunting through cookbooks trying to find some recipes.”

“Why? Doesn't she know how to cook?” Dorothy seemed flabbergasted by the very thought.

“She's an excellent cook. She's just trying to find meals my father can eat now that he's on this diet because of his heart.”

“What's wrong with his heart?” Dorothy seemed intrigued.

“He had a heart attack last February. The doctors want him to eat healthier, but my mother is taking it to the extreme by cooking stuff that tastes like tree bark and sand. My father hates it.”

Dorothy shuddered. “Then the invitation to Thanksgiving is for not only you but your parents as well. Your poor father deserves real food once in a while. We seem to be having a full house that night—what's three more?”

“Who all's coming?” Coop looked directly at Jenni.

“Sam's father and his two sisters. It turns out Mr. Fischer isn't a very good cook.” Jenni watched as Felicity refilled Corey's cocoa mug. Sam was sitting next to her youngest son and was fighting him for the last cookie.

“My dad can screw up canned spaghetti.” Sam looked at Felicity and winked. “He's so stoked about coming here for dinner that he's coming early and working on the oil burner in the basement.”

“What's wrong with the . . .” Coop's voice trailed off as the furnace kicked on with a horrible whining sound that vibrated the floorboards. “Forget that stupid question. My dad knows his way around heaters. I think for real turkey and pumpkin pie he'll give your father a hand in the basement, Sam.”

“Cool.” Sam went back to telling Corey a story about the shark that had washed up at Hancock Point last night. Per Sam, it had been twenty feet long and had jaws big enough to swallow an elephant.

Something was up between Sam and Coop. The entire football team was in her house, and besides a few “Heys” and a couple of nods, none of the players were really talking with Coop. The glint of hero worship had disappeared from Sam's gaze. She wasn't the only one who'd noticed. Felicity and Dorothy kept glancing from the players to Coop.

Coop was acting as if he hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary.

Strange.

Coop headed for the front door. She followed on his heels, wondering how one thanks a man for finding one's son. “Coop?”

“If the words ‘thank you' come out of your mouth one more time, Jenni, I'm going to be upset.” Coop's strong looking hand was on the front doorknob.

Before she could think of what to say that would express her feelings without those two words, Corey came flying from the kitchen, “Mr. Brown, Mr. Brown!”

Coop bent down and smiled. “I thought you were going to call me Coop.”

Corey threw himself into Coop's arms. “Thank you for res . . . cue me.” Corey had obviously just been coached in the kitchen as to what to say.

She watched as Coop gave her son a big bear hug that had him squealing with delight. “I didn't rescue you, Corey. I found you. You didn't need rescuing because you listened to your mother and did exactly what she told you to do when you realized you were lost.”

“Sit and be still.” Corey grinned at her. “She's smart.”

Coop placed the boy back on his feet and rumpled his hair. “She sure is, so always listen to her.” Coop opened the front door. “See you both around, and you, Corey, stay out of trouble.”

Corey laughed. “I wasn't in trouble, Coop.” Her son looked very proud to be calling the UPS man by his first name. “I was lost.”

“That you were.” Coop gave her a wink, stepped out onto the porch, and closed the door against the howling wind and blowing rain.

She stood there and watched as Corey sprinted back into the kitchen. He almost slipped in his socks on the wooden floor. Dorothy must have done some cleaning this morning, even though now it was a little hard to tell with wall-to-wall people, especially football players. How did these kids' parents afford to feed them? They ate like lumberjacks with bottomless pits instead of stomachs. Even Dorothy seemed overwhelmed with the job of feeding them a snack. Thankfully Dorothy hadn't invited the whole team to Thanksgiving dinner. They didn't make turkeys big enough.

So why did her mother-in-law invite not only Coop but also his parents? Sure, she was grateful for Coop going out of his way and finding Corey, but a holiday dinner invite seemed a little extreme. Holidays were for families, not a good-looking delivery man and his parents.

The whole thing smelled like “fix up Jenni with a date,” but that couldn't be true. Dorothy was the last person to fix her up. Her mother-in-law still looked at her as Ken's wife, and the mother of her precious grandsons. Wives and mothers did not date.

She wasn't blind. She saw how handsome Coop was, but she wasn't into fooling herself. Coop was single, never married, and didn't have any children. There was no way he would be interested in her romantically. She just happened to be a customer on his route. That was all.

Coop was just one of those nice men who knew how to wield a monkey wrench, fix a flat tire, and untie any knot Chase had managed to tie. He also wasn't afraid of iguanas, mud, or heights. Cooper Armstrong was her boys' guardian angel, handyman, and UPS man all rolled into one stunningly gorgeous package. As far as she was concerned, Christmas had come early to Mistletoe Bay, and Coop was Santa.

What did it matter that when he had brushed away her tears with his finger earlier, her knees had gone weak and she had forgotten how to breathe? It was a normal reaction for a mother to have when her little boy was lost.

That and the fact that she had been so busy getting the boys their lunch, she had forgotten to eat hers.

It didn't matter if either of those reasons was true. That was what she was telling herself, and she was sticking to it.

 

 

“Dorothy, you're taking this harder than me.” Jenni watched as Corey and Tucker played with the other kids. There were four other kids in their age group, and everyone seemed to be getting along just fine. “See, they're happy and having fun.”

“I'm sure they will get along just fine.” Cathy Bailey, who was in charge of the day care and preschool at the local Methodist church, handed Jenni some papers. “You can look these over when you get a chance.”

Kiddie Kare came highly recommended, or her boys wouldn't have been there.

“Thanks.” Jenni watched Dorothy with concern. It had taken her hours to convince Dorothy that her decision to send the boys had nothing to do with Corey getting lost. The boys needed more structure in their lives, and she was just too busy to do it. They also needed friends besides each other. Since they lived so far out of town, there was no other solution. The nearest neighbor under the age of twelve was half a mile away.

Her business was requiring more and more of her time. Since she needed the business to support herself and the boys, something had to be done. College would be starting soon enough, and it wasn't like she was spending every day with them. This way, they would have a set schedule, both in their lives and hers.

Hopefully, if she hired someone part time, she would be able to spend the evenings and most of the weekends with the boys. They could get back to being a normal family. Whatever “normal” was. In today's society, it was a little hard to tell.

Dorothy was the world's best grandmother, but she shouldn't have to spend her days, and some of her nights, running after the boys while Jenni worked. It would be too much to ask a younger woman, let alone a woman who would be turning fifty soon. Dorothy deserved to do whatever she wanted with her days—and her nights. Dorothy needed her life back.

More important was that Felicity needed her mother back. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Felicity was jealous of the boys. Jenni didn't want Dorothy to realize one day, when Felicity was away at college or out on her own, that she had missed these years with her only daughter.

The boys were her responsibility, not Dorothy's.

“I don't know, Jenni. They're so small.” Dorothy watched her grandsons with concern. “You know Tucker; he tends to find trouble.”

“Find trouble?” Now there was the understatement of the year. Tucker
was
trouble. “I'm sure Ms. Bailey can handle a five-year-old.”

Tucker had turned five last week. In a way it had been a sad little birthday party, with only his brothers, the rest of his family, and Sam in attendance. It had been the turning point when she realized that Tucker and Corey needed some friends from the surrounding area and town. Tucker was still sporting the black and blue eye from where he'd run his new skateboard into the hallway closet door.

The solid wood door had won that battle.