The Manning Brides (17 page)

“So do I,” she countered smoothly. “I’m cooking breakfast for two hungry little boys.”

Kelsey woke and started whimpering. Leah got the impression that Paul would’ve preferred to continue their conversation, but didn’t know which to do first, deal with his daughter or talk to Leah. “But—”

“I’ll heat her bottle for you,” she offered, cutting off his reply.

Paul looked haggard. She’d purposely come to the house early so he could have part of the day to himself. The guy was exhausted. They all were. But for Leah there was an escape. At the end of the day she went home to her apartment, free from the demands of three small, needy children. A place of her own where she could find peace and privacy. Paul had no such deliverance.

Breakfast was ready when he returned with a freshly diapered Kelsey. He’d taken the time to dress in jeans and a sweatshirt, Leah saw, glancing in his direction.

She set three plates on the table and reached for Kelsey, tucking the baby in her arms and smiling as she eagerly began to gulp down her formula.

“You’re ruining your social life,” Paul said, biting into the muffin as though it had been days since his last meal.

“No, I’m not.” There wasn’t any social life to ruin, Leah thought. She only dated occasionally. Rob was a friend and would never be anything more. They had a good time together, but canceling an evening with him wasn’t a big deal.

“You should’ve gone out last night,” Paul said stubbornly.

“I wasn’t in the mood.” She stroked the side of Kelsey’s face, her heart constricting as she noticed her resemblance to Diane. The little chin, the shape of her ears…

“Leah, please don’t.”

The earnestness in Paul’s voice caught her attention. Slowly she lifted her eyes to his.

“I feel guilty enough knowing what this is doing to my parents,” he said. “Please, don’t you sacrifice yourself for me, too.”

“It’s not for you,” she told him. “It’s for Ryan, Ronnie and Kelsey. And it isn’t a sacrifice. If the situation were reversed, Diane wouldn’t think twice about doing the same for me. She’d
expect
me to help.”

Paul closed his eyes and nodded, his face grim. “I still don’t feel good about it.”

“I know.” Leah did; she knew it went against Paul’s pride to rely on his family so much. He didn’t have any choice, but he didn’t like it.

Not one bit.

Paul was in an angry, unreasonable mood. If there was anything to be grateful for, it was that Leah had taken the boys to the zoo and Kelsey was napping.

He would’ve liked nothing better than to sit down at his computer. He was five chapters into a book, but he hadn’t written a word since Diane’s death. How could he? There hadn’t been a moment he could call his own. Not that he’d been in the state of mind that would allow him to get absorbed in his novel anyway. But he wanted to try, as much for Diane, who’d loved this story, as himself.

His two younger brothers had asked him to join their softball team. He felt a bit guilty for spurning Jason and Rich’s efforts to divert him, but feeling like a charity case was worse.

In any event, there wouldn’t have been time for softball this Saturday, since a dozen chores around the house needed to be done.

One of the twins had pulled the towel rack off the bathroom wall. When he’d asked who was responsible, both Ryan and Ronnie had claimed, “not me.”
Not me
seemed to have a lot to answer for lately.

Once he’d finished the bathroom repair, Paul moved into the twins’ bedroom, where the closet door was off the track. Setting it back in place wasn’t a simple task. Again and again he struggled to fit it onto the narrow groove until it was all he could do not to rip the door out in his frustration.

“You’re losing it, old boy,” he said, forcing himself to step back and take several deep breaths. Calmer now, he finally succeeded in fixing it.

From there, Paul moved to the garage. His car needed an oil change, and although he’d gotten in the habit of going to a twenty-minute lube place, this time he decided to do it himself, hoping to save a few dollars.

Tinkering in the garage, he realized he needed a few things from the hardware store. No big deal. He’d be back in fifteen, twenty minutes tops. It wasn’t until he’d gone a block down the road that he remembered Kelsey.

He tore back to the house like a madman and raced inside the front door, his heart pounding so hard it sounded like thunder in his ear.

Kelsey was sleeping soundly, completely unaware that her own father had actually forgotten her.

Slumping into the rocking chair, Paul clenched his fists, resisting the urge to plow one through the wall. Paul had never been a violent man, and he was horrified by the rage that surged through him.

Leah’s timing couldn’t have been worse. The boys exploded through the front door, happy and excited. Ryan and Ronnie were each clutching a bright red balloon in one hand and an ice-cream cone in the other.

“Daddy! Daddy, guess what we saw?”

Paul didn’t answer, but that didn’t seem to dampen Ryan’s enthusiasm.

“There was an eagle, a great big one with wings as long as…as an airplane and claws like this.” He formed his small hand into the shape. “Bigger even.”

“Paul, what’s wrong?” Leah’s soft voice came to him. If he closed his eyes, he could almost believe it was Diane speaking to him—only it wasn’t.

“I left the house to do one small errand,” he said in a low voice.

“Yes?”

“I went without Kelsey. I left her in the house alone,” he said. “Anything could’ve happened, don’t you understand? I left my own daughter behind…I completely forgot about her.”

“Nothing happened. It’s not the end of the world.”

“Isn’t it?” he shouted.

Leah steered the boys toward the kitchen. “Finish your ice cream at the table, then wash your hands,” she told them calmly. “After that, it’s time for your nap.”

“Ronnie, get your thumb out of your mouth,” Paul yelled. “You’re too old to be sucking your thumb.”

The boy raised stricken eyes to his father and rushed into the other room.

“Take a few minutes to relax,” Leah told Paul, “and I’ll bring you a cup of tea.”

“I don’t want any tea.”

“I know,” she said. “You want Diane back. We all do.”

“A cup of tea isn’t going to help.”

“Perhaps not, but we need to talk, and anytime Diane had something important she wanted to discuss, she did it over a cup of tea.”

Paul didn’t need his sister-in-law to tell him about his dead wife’s habits. For an instant he wanted to lash out at her, the same way he had at Ronnie. But the guilt he felt at his irrational anger compounded as he followed Leah into the kitchen. Ryan and Ronnie were sitting at the table. Their excitement was gone, their shoulders hunched forward. Paul leaned over and kissed Ronnie’s cheek. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

“I won’t suck my thumb anymore,” the four-year-old promised tearfully.

Ryan scooted off the chair and raced to their bedroom, returning with his yellow blanket, which he indignantly handed Paul. “If Ronnie can’t have his thumb, then I don’t want my blankie.”

“You’re sure?” Paul asked. Ryan hadn’t slept without his blanket since Diane’s death.

“Yes.”

“If you’re finished, go wash your hands,” Leah told the boys. “Naptime.”

Paul expected an argument. The boys rarely went to sleep without a fuss these days. They seemed to feel that if they were old enough for kindergarten in September, they were old enough to forgo afternoon naps. To his surprise neither one voiced a protest.

He was left alone in the kitchen as Leah walked the boys down the hallway. She returned a couple of minutes later and poured them each a cup of hot tea.

She was about to sit down when Ryan stalked back into the kitchen, glaring at his father. Here it comes, Paul thought. The argument about naptime.

“What is it?” Paul demanded impatiently.

Ryan blinked, pointing at the blanket on the chair next to Paul. “Ronnie’s got his thumb in his mouth so I want my blankie back.” He grabbed the tattered yellow blanket and raced to his bedroom again.

Leah was smiling, and if he’d been in a better mood, Paul would’ve found humor in it, too.

“So you had a good time at the zoo?” he managed to ask politely.

“Yes. The boys were great.” She stared down at the delicate teacup in her hands. “Listen, Paul, I’ve been doing some thinking about the situation here, with you and the kids, and it seems to me we need to come up with some solutions.”

“
We?
This isn’t your problem.”

“Yes, it is, although I hesitate to call it a problem.”

“Then what would you call it?”

“An opportunity.”

“An opportunity for what?” he asked, hating the way he’d raised his voice. The anger he felt simmered just below the surface, and seemed ready to burst forth at the slightest provocation.

“I’ve given a lot of thought to what I’m about to propose.”

“Leah, listen, forgive me, I’m in a foul mood. Not good company. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but—”

“I know what’s wrong. What’s wrong with all of us. Why Ronnie’s started sucking his thumb again and why Ryan can’t get to sleep unless he’s got his blankie.”

“It’s Diane….”

She nodded. “We all miss her, we all need her, but she isn’t here and we have to adjust. It’s going to take time and patience.”

“I’ve run out of both,” Paul admitted wryly.

“So have I,” she acknowledged, surprising him. “That’s why I want to give my notice at the college and move in with you and the kids.”

“I
won’t hear of it,” Paul said bluntly, emphatically.

Leah had expected an argument. Paul was proud. Being forced to accept her help, or anyone’s for that matter, conflicted with his independent nature. He’d been forced to rely on her and his parents for the past six months, which was difficult enough.

“I’ve considered this very seriously,” Leah said.

“I appreciate the offer, but I can’t allow you to do it.” Paul shook his head. Others might have buckled under at the obstinate look in his deep blue eyes, but Leah had come to know her brother-in-law too well to surrender that easily.

“The boys aren’t adjusting.”

“Leah, I said no,” he returned firmly.

“Ryan can barely leave the house without his blanket. We both know he has trouble going to sleep without it.”

“In time he’ll give it up.”

“And Ronnie’s taken to sucking his thumb again,” she continued undaunted. “In case you haven’t noticed, he’s become ambidextrous, although he continues to favor his right hand.”

“Both thumbs?” Paul didn’t bother to disguise his shock. His eyes hardened as he said, “In time the boys will learn to adjust.”

“They need stability and security.”

“I’m trying,” Paul said, inhaling sharply. “I’m doing everything I can.”

“No one’s blaming you.”

“I can’t do everything.”

“And that’s my point,” Leah told him quietly. “No one expects you to. My moving in will only be temporary. It’ll give the boys a chance to adjust to Diane’s loss without all the upheaval they’re going through now. It’ll help regulate Kelsey’s schedule, too.”

“What’s wrong with her schedule?” Paul demanded.

Leah didn’t want to sound critical of his efforts, but, in fact, Kelsey didn’t
have
much of a schedule.

“It’s…erratic. Especially at night.”

“But she wakes up and—”

“You
expect
her to wake up and you’re so attuned to the slightest noise that when she does, you spring out of bed instantly.”

“I had to put her crib in my room,” he said, “otherwise I didn’t hear her.”

“I’m just explaining that you need to move her into her own room and start regulating her eating schedule a little more.” She paused. “I can help you do that.”

He sighed wearily but didn’t respond.

“It’d only be for a few years,” Leah murmured.

“You don’t really think I’m going to agree to this, do you?”

“Just until the boys are in school full-time and Kelsey’s in preschool. By then the kids won’t need me as much and I’ll be able to resume my teaching career.”

Paul didn’t say anything for several minutes, weighing her words. “No,” he finally said. “I appreciate this more than you’ll ever realize, but I can’t let you do it. It’s too much of a sacrifice.”

“Diane was my sister,” Leah said softly, hoping to hide the pain that surfaced whenever she mentioned her sister’s name. “Her children are the only family I have left. It wouldn’t be a sacrifice—it would be something done willingly and out of love. The twins need me and so does Kelsey.”

“But it’s not fair for you to give up your life.”

“Give it up?” she repeated with a short laugh. “You make it sound like I’m offering to leap into a volcano to appease some ancient god. I’m going to take a leave of absence from teaching. That’s all.”

“You won’t be spending your time traveling or studying, though, will you?”

“No, but I’ll gain more from the experience than you think. I love the children. I really want to do this.”

“What about money?”

It went without saying that finances were currently tight for Paul. He couldn’t pay Leah, nor could he offer to reimburse her for lost wages, but she’d taken all of that into account.

“I’ll be giving up my apartment, so I’ll be saving on rent. Plus, I have a small trust fund from my mother and grandmother. It isn’t a lot, but it’s enough for the next couple of years.”

Paul hesitated, his jaw tensing before he slowly shook his head. “Your offer touches me deeply, but I just can’t let you do it.”

Leah knew it would eventually come down to this. She knew she’d have to bring up the subject of Eric and Elizabeth Manning.

“What about your parents?” Although Leah preferred not to drag them into the discussion, she had no choice. Paul’s parents had retired several years before and enjoyed traveling in their motor home. But since Diane’s death they’d stayed in Seattle to help Paul with the children. She’d been unable to visit Taylor, her oldest daughter, when little Eric was born. Now Christy was pregnant and it looked as if, once again, Elizabeth wouldn’t be there for the birth of a grandchild.

“I’ve been checking into having someone from church watch the kids while Mom and Dad are away,” Paul informed her stiffly.

“Strangers?”
Leah raised her eyebrows.

“What else can I do?” he flared.

“Let me move in with you. It’s the obvious answer. The kids love me and I love them. They’ll be in their own home, with their own toys. They’ve had enough disruption in their lives already. I know how hard this is for you, Paul, but you can’t let your pride stand in the way of what’s best for your children.”

He stood abruptly and walked to the far side of the kitchen. “It seems so unfair to
you.
”

“But I’d consider it a privilege. I don’t expect there’ll be many other opportunities in my life to do something like this for those I love. My being here with the kids can make a difference. It can help them adjust to the loss of their mother. Please believe me, it isn’t a sacrifice, it’s an honor. Years from now I’ll be able to look back and feel good about the contribution I made to shaping my sister’s children, to helping them through this difficult time.”

Paul rubbed his face with both hands. “I don’t know.”

He was weakening—Leah could see it, although he was still struggling with his pride, his natural inclination to carry everything on his own shoulders.

“It won’t be for more than a few years,” she reiterated.

“What about you and Rob?”

Leah smiled to herself. She’d been dating Rob Mullins for three years. They were both members of the math department at Highline Community College and shared a number of interests. Above all, they were friends. If they were going to marry, they would have done so long before now. “What about him?” she asked.

“What does he think of this?”

“I didn’t ask him.”

Paul’s eyes widened.

“Rob’ll understand,” she assured him. Leah didn’t feel it was necessary to go into the intricacies of their relationship. They dated more for the sake of companionship and convenience than romance. Rob was divorced and had been for fifteen years. If he wanted to remarry, he would’ve brought up the subject long ago.

“How can you be so sure he won’t mind? If I was dating Diane right now, I can tell you I wouldn’t take kindly to her moving in with her brother-in-law—no matter what the circumstances.”

“You’re not Rob. And I’m not Diane….”

“He’ll care.”

Leah ignored his concern. “There’s only a couple of weeks left in the term, and I’ve already talked this over with Dean MacKenzie. I told him there’s a strong possibility I wouldn’t be returning for at least a year. But he needs to know for certain.”

Paul didn’t say anything for several minutes. He walked over to the teapot, carried it back to the table and refilled their cups. “I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

“But you’ll agree to let me move in with you?”

He nodded slowly. “And I’ll thank God every day for a sister-in-law as unselfish as you.”

“What’s this?” Ryan asked, lifting a textbook from one of the boxes neatly stacked in the corner of Leah’s closet.

Each of the four bedrooms was now in use. Leah took the one across from the nursery and next to the twins’ room. The master bedroom, where Paul slept, was at the far end of the long hallway.

“A book,” she said as she unpacked her suitcase. She hung up one item at a time as the boys investigated several of the heavy cartons she’d brought with her. Most of her furniture had gone into storage, but she hadn’t been able to part with some of her precious books. She probably wouldn’t have the time or the energy to explore propositional calculus in the next couple of years; nevertheless, she’d hauled several boxes of books from her office.

“I like books,” Ronnie said, taking his thumb out of his mouth long enough to tell her. He sat on the carpet next to his brother, tucking his legs beneath him. Ryan held his tattered yellow blanket under his arm as he leafed through the text, carefully examining each page as though he understood the concepts. Leah didn’t have the heart to tell him he was holding it upside down.

“After dinner I’ll read you a story,” she promised them.

“Mommy used to read to us.”

The memory of Diane sitting with her sons flashed into Leah’s mind. She remembered her sister sitting on the living-room couch with the twins on either side. A large book of nursery rhymes was spread open across her lap as she read aloud. The boys nestled against her, half-asleep.

The injustice of her sister’s death, the heartlessness of it, struck an unexpected blow. Leah paused in her task, holding a silk blouse to her stomach until the disturbing image passed.

“Are you going to be our mommy now?” Ryan asked, looking up at her with wide blue eyes. Paul’s eyes. Both boys had been blessed with the same incredibly blue eyes as their father. Leah wasn’t sure she’d ever seen eyes that precise color. It was the first thing she noticed whenever she met any of the Manning family.

“Mommy’s in heaven,” Ronnie said, poking his brother with his elbow.

Ryan went still for a moment and shut his eyes tightly. “Sometimes I forget what she looks like. I have to try real hard to remember.”

“Here,” Leah said, sitting on the end of the bed, eager to prompt the boys’ memory. She reached for her purse and withdrew her wallet. Inside were several pictures of Diane, Paul and the twins. She took them out of the plastic case and handed them to the boys, who’d gathered beside her.

“How come she’s so fat?” Ryan asked, pointing to the first picture.

Leah smiled. “That’s because you and your brother were growing inside her tummy,” she explained, ruffling Ryan’s blond hair.

“I don’t ’member that.”

“I don’t suppose you do.”

“Kelsey was inside her tummy, too.”

“Yes, she was,” Leah said, picking up Ronnie and settling him on her lap. “Here’s a picture of the two of you when you were born.” They were dressed in white T-shirts with protective cuffs over their tiny hands. A small blue ribbon was taped in each baby’s fuzzy blond hair.

“Which one’s me?” Ryan asked.

“That one.” Leah pointed to the infant on the left, although she didn’t actually know.

“What’s this picture?” Ronnie asked, pulling the bottom one free from Leah’s hand. She had to look herself before she could say.

“That, my young man, was taken at Easter a few years ago.” She grinned, remembering how the candy-filled baskets she’d brought the boys had been bigger than they were. Ryan and Ronnie were toddling toward her when she’d snapped the picture. It was one of Leah’s favorites.

She shuffled through the other photographs, and paused as she came upon one of Paul and Diane together. Paul’s eyes held Diane’s, and it was clear how much in love they were. Leah’s heart constricted. It seemed so unfair that Paul should lose Diane. Six months after her death he was still grieving as though it had happened only yesterday. But then, so was she.

Leah often had questions about Diane’s death. Not medical questions, but…spiritual ones. She didn’t know what other word to use. She’d never told Paul, never told anyone, about the dream.

In some ways it was what prompted her to suggest she move in with Paul and the children. It was during the dream that Diane had asked Leah to take her place.

In retrospect Leah wished she’d questioned Diane, argued with her, convinced her to stay. Even after all these months, that vision of Diane haunted Leah. Sometimes she believed it was a product of her own imagination. Other times, she was sure it was real.

At any rate, Leah had kept her word. She’d moved in with Diane’s family and was taking her sister’s place—as a mother, but certainly not as a wife. Even with the kids, she felt woefully inadequate.

Leah didn’t know how she, a single woman, a college-level math professor, was supposed to deal with three small children on a daily basis. She didn’t have all the answers, only the determination to keep her promise to Diane.

There was bound to be a period of adjustment for them all, Leah realized. Paul was grateful for her help, but at the same time resentful that he needed her. And he
did
need her, no question there. Still, it would take a while for him to get over that.

Leah respected Paul. He’d loved her sister, still loved her, and was a good father. Although she didn’t have much in common with him, other than their love for the children, for now that was enough.