Mom Over Miami Part 21

"She has teething rings in the freezer. Please go get one for me. I've tried three times now to go out and get the mail and something always-"

R-r-r-r-ring!

"Interrupts me," she muttered under her breath. Dog chew tucked under her arm, she headed for the phone.

"Here. I'm done with this for now." Sam swept by in a blur, pausing only long enough to shove Payt's bathrobe into her arms and to hold up a red silk tie. "If that's Payt on the phone, will you ask him if I can use this for my next costume?"

"Shepherds didn't wear ties," she shouted after him. Unable to dash to the closet to hang it up, and glad for the comfort of something of Payt's around her, she shrugged the robe over her then she reached for the receiver.

"I'm working on a wise-guy costume now."

"Wise men," she corrected. "And I'll ask him, but he may not be in a very good mood."

"Aww, you can cheer him up. You cheer everyone up."

Her hand froze over the phone. That was the nicest thing anyone had said to her today. Today? She could hardly remember the last time anyone had taken time to share a kind word about her efforts. Just: Here you go, Hannah. We know you won't mind Here you go, Hannah. We know you won't mind, and off they go.

How corny did it make her feel that a simple You can cheer him up. You cheer everyone up You can cheer him up. You cheer everyone up got to her? got to her?

Cornier than a whole case of nacho chips. But she didn't care.

Hannah swallowed to push down the emotion welling up from her chest. Now all she had to do was live up to the compliment. Cheery.

Right.

R-r-r-r-ring.

Oh, why not? It probably was was Payt. They'd waited for him to return her call all afternoon long. She gave her hair a shake, inched her chin up and answered the phone at last. "Nacho Mama's house, the big cheese speaking." Payt. They'd waited for him to return her call all afternoon long. She gave her hair a shake, inched her chin up and answered the phone at last. "Nacho Mama's house, the big cheese speaking."

"Hannah? Is that you?"

"Um, Jacqui?"

"And Cydney-patched from my line. Just like a real-live big-business conference call!" the other sister piped in. "Have you got a minute?"

A howl of utter frustration rose from Tessa in the other room. But before Hannah could beg off to go and see about her child, Sam's helpfulness genes kicked in full force. Helpfulness with a little self-serving-brownie-point-grabbing-ness thrown in for good measure.

"I'll take this freezing cold teething thing-carried in my own bare hands, which are also freezing now, but I don't mind-to Tessa, so you can keep talking on the phone!" He went up on tiptoe as he pa.s.sed, to aim his booming voice directly at the mouthpiece.

Hannah shut her eyes, but not before she glimpsed the grin that all but screamed-Now Payt can't help but say yes to my borrowing his tie.

She moved her lips into what she hoped looked more smile than grimace and motioned for the boy to hurry on.

"Guess we have our answer right there." Jacqui laughed.

One beat later Cydney joined in.

Hannah mustered up a weak chuckle, then cleared her throat. "How can I help you ladies today?"

"Wrong question," Jacqui chirped.

Cydney made a grating "you lose" sound like an annoying game show buzzer.

If Cydney had more to contribute than obnoxious sound effects, Jacqui didn't wait for it. "You want to know what you should be asking, Hannah?"

"I...uh..." Hannah s.h.i.+vered. Not from cold, though it had turned cool and cloudy this October afternoon. "Hold on a second, Jacqui."

For good measure, she decided to steel herself against the chill, real or perceived, and wrap herself in Payt's robe. The metaphorical arms of the man poised to whisk her away from all this.

s.h.i.+fting the receiver from her left ear to her right as she fumbled to slide her arms into the wide sleeves, she got it on and crammed the dog toy into the deep pockets.

There. Ready. Ready as she'd ever be. "Okay, Jacqui, what question should I be asking?"

"Not 'What can I do for you?' Oh, no."

"No, no, no, no." Cydney's voice took up where Jacqui's left off. "You should be asking-"

"I started all this, Cyd." Jacqui did a quick verbal nudge to push Cydney out of the way and conclude by herself. "What you should be asking, Hannah, is 'What can you you do for do for me? me?'"

Heat rose in Hannah's cheeks. She tried to speak, but her mind and mouth betrayed her. She stammered for a moment before managing to blurt out a vaguely benign version of what she really wanted to yell into the phone, "I...I...don't know what I ever could have done to deserve this."

"Oh, no, no. You mustn't think that." Jacqui showed no sign she picked up on Hannah's dismay. "You deserve any and everything we can throw at you."

"I do?"

"Of course you do!" Silly. She didn't say it. But then Jacqui was the kind of person who often said way too much, even on those rare occasions when she had her mouth closed. "Why, we feel so awful about the dreadful way we acted."

"Dreadful," Cydney reiterated. "Just awful."

"We have no choice but to do everything in our power to make it up to you."

"That's not true. You have many, many choices." Missionary work in a tropical island sans telephones. Volunteering to redecorate for the homeless-because they'd be the least traumatized by the effort. Vows of silence. "Many, many choices. And you certainly don't owe me anything."

"Don't we?" Jacqui asked.

"No!"

"We owe you our grat.i.tude, and certainly we owe you our services," the other sister said.

"I couldn't possibly impose."

"Impose? No." Jacqui began and Cydney rushed to finish. "No! We want to do this."

"Do what? Exactly?"

"The Christmas pageant!" they chorused.

Hannah's heart sank.

"Cydney Snowden, volunteer set designer reporting for duty, madam chairperson!"

"Set designer?" Images of flocks of big-tooth sheep sprang to the forefront of Hannah's jumbled thoughts.

"And costume mistress," Jacqui interjected with determined yet perky forcefulness. "Already have some sketches drawn up, and as soon as I find my sewing machine under all the paint tarps and sc.r.a.ps of wood and those three spare ceiling fans in my guest bedroom, we'll be in business for sure."

"Wow." Hannah muttered.

"I knew you'd love it. Didn't I say she'd love it, Cydney?"

"Love it. Jacqui's exact words. We'll talk more about this later."

"Guess I better go start excavating my guest room!"

She thought they said goodbye. She thought she'd replied in kind, but if pressed about it, Hannah wouldn't have gone on record regarding anything about that phone call except to say it left her feeling woozy.

She rubbed her temple as she hung up the phone and wondered aloud, "Maybe Payt can can prescribe motion sickness pills to keep everyday life from sending my head spinning." prescribe motion sickness pills to keep everyday life from sending my head spinning."

"What?" Sam poked his head around the wall dividing the front room and the kitchen.

"Oh, it's just a joke I made to Aunt Phiz once. How long have you stood there listening in?"

His eyes grew wide. "Uh, n-not long."

"Too bad." She reached out to ruffle his hair. "I hoped maybe you could tell me if I sounded more like a complete fool or just a half-wit."

He laughed, his eyes filled with light when he looked up at her. "You're so funny."

Another compliment.

She put her hand to her chest and met his eager gaze. "I ever tell you that sometimes you just make my day?"

"No, ma'am." He blushed the way boys that age do-across the nose and in the hollow of his freckled cheeks.

If she had thought it wouldn't send him running to get the dog to lick his face clean, she'd have bent down and given the kid a big old smooch on the forehead. "Well, I should tell you, and more often, too."

Grown men who accepted the highest honors given in their most fervent fields of endeavor could not have looked more proud or pleased...or surprised-than this dear, humble, cast-adrift little boy did.

And to think, a year ago at this time she was still telling her sisters she didn't think she could ever relate to any little boy, much less a stranger's child who would need so much. She had almost talked herself out of taking the child at all. But then Payt had promised the life of leisure as a doctor's stay-at-home wife and that she'd have everything she ever dreamed of.

On that point he was so right.

She curved her hand under Sam's chin. "I love you, Sam. You know that, don't you?"

He blinked. His eyes hinted at getting all watery-but only for one fleeting second. Then he squirmed loose, sniffled and scrunched up his nose. "Aw, that love stuff, that's so girly."

He darted down the hall.

"Is not!" she shouted after him. "I happen to know that Payt loves you, too. And Aunt Phiz. Grandpa Moonie loves you and-"

"And Jesus," came back down the darkened hallway that led to his bedroom. "Jesus loves me."

"And Jesus," she said softly. He gets it He gets it. Sam understood it was not about a baby in a basket and boys in bathrobes. Jesus loved him.

She didn't care if it was all girly-she didn't feel one bit ashamed when a tear rolled down her cheek.

No matter what else this roller coaster of a day held in store for Hannah, she felt certain she could deal with it-even without motion-sickness pills. Nothing could spoil the knowledge that for all the things that went awry, that she didn't seem to have any control over, that she wanted so badly to do and be and always failed, in this one thing, where it mattered most, she had done well.

"Maybe this is a turning point," she murmured to Tessa as she pa.s.sed the baby working a frozen water-filled ring over tiny swollen gums. "In fact, I'm sure it is. Sam, come keep an eye on...on your baby sister your baby sister...while I go get the mail. Then, if my paycheck from the paper is here, I'm taking the whole family to dinner."

A cheap dinner, to be sure. But feeling as she did, it would seem a feast.

She stepped out the door into the early-fall afternoon filled with hope and expectation.

And the door slammed shut behind her.

CHAPTER 16

Hannah Shelnutt Bartlett writes "Nacho Mama's House" from her home just outside of Cincinnati, where she lives with her husband and two young children. Please feel free to send comments and questions to Hannah via the Wileyville Guardian News. Wileyville Guardian News.-Bio that runs at the bottom of "Nacho Mama's House" column Slam!

Hannah nearly jumped out of her skin. She clutched her chest and moaned between her teeth. Too bad she hadn't jumped out of Payt's bathrobe!

A bathrobe. An ill-fitting one over her clothes at that, and in the afternoon. It didn't look good.

She turned to try the door, knowing what she'd find.

"Locked." The action had become second nature to her these days.

Since Aunt Phiz had struck up a friends.h.i.+p with the woman across the street-nice lady, terrible manners-they had adopted a new adage for getting along with their neighbor. Live and lock up Live and lock up.

Somehow the woman had gotten the idea that opening a front door and shouting "Knock Knock" was a perfectly acceptable subst.i.tute for actually knocking and waiting for her host to ask her in. It didn't help that in Aunt Phiz's absence the woman had decided to take Hannah on as a project. So that left Hannah with two situations-she had to get her mail and she had to not draw the attention of anyone who might want to do her good.

Stealth. That's what this called for. Or, as Aunt Phiz would say, "Get in, get out, don't get involved."

She could do this. She only had to negotiate the lawn, cross the sidewalk, hop off the curb, whip open the mailbox, get the goods and go.

Hannah Bartlett, secret agent girl. Except she wasn't a girl and nothing she did anymore seemed the least bit secret. Just the opposite. What with her roles as Snack Mom, church helper, doctor's wife and newspaper columnist, her every move had become fodder for scrutiny.

Just what every person who fears that no one could possibly love them for themselves needs!

She stepped gingerly onto her wide, protected front porch. The October air kissed her cheeks. Just before it whipped her loose auburn waves into a frenzied ma.s.s. She cinched the robe tight and Squirrelly Girl's dog toy clunked against her stomach.