Mom Over Miami Part 8

"Nope. Maybe I just need something interesting to happen around here to get my creative juices flowing." She stood up and rubbed her hands together like some mad plotter. "And it had better happen soon, before Tessa wakes up from her morning nap."

Tessa was a world-cla.s.s nap taker. Hannah's sister Sadie told her to think of it as a blessing, but then Sadie didn't have to plan her day around a baby who was four hours awake for every one hour asleep during the day. Then reverse that in the night. The whole thing had Hannah near the brink of exhaustion. Which wouldn't be a big deal if she didn't keep taking on new projects that pushed her over the edge.

Which reminded her- "I didn't finish frosting the cake yet. Mrs. Faison will be here in less than-"

Ding-dong.

"A minute?" she finished. She checked her clock. Almost an hour ahead of the time she'd said she'd drop by. Maybe the world's most perfect mom did have a flaw after all-she showed up too early at places.

Okay, as flaws went, it didn't rank up there with things like cussing, barroom brawling and wearing white after Labor Day. But it did show a c.h.i.n.k in the other woman's armor and eased Hannah's apprehensions a tad as she said, "You let Mrs. Faison in, Sam, and I'll straighten up in here."

Sam took off for the front door.

Hannah glanced around the room with nothing in it but beanbags, a box and a Bible. Just to make herself feel like she'd done as she'd promised, she fluffed the bags, then stood back and eyed the effect with much satisfaction. "There. All done."

Sam put his hand on the doork.n.o.b and looked back at her.

She held up a finger to ask him to hold off unleas.h.i.+ng Supermom into her home for one moment and made a mad dash for the kitchen.

"Now!" She gave the go-ahead even as she wriggled into her chef's ap.r.o.n, grabbed a cake spatula and pulled from the middle shelf of the fridge the tub of icing she'd mixed up earlier.

She heard the door creak as Sam eased it open.

Hannah took a deep breath and smiled. She'd heard that people could tell if you were smiling when you talked even if they couldn't see you. So Hannah smiled real big and said, "Come on in. You're just in time to lick the bowl!"

"That's just dandy, lady," a gruff male voice boomed through the wide-open s.p.a.ces of her home. "Mind if we unload your living room suite first?"

The furniture? The deliverymen weren't scheduled to arrive until late this afternoon. The deliverymen weren't scheduled to arrive until late this afternoon.

She tucked the tub of frosting in the crook of her arm and jabbed the spatula into it even as she rounded the corner from the kitchen to the front room. "You aren't supposed to deliver that until later."

"Sorry, lady, but our first two drop-offs weren't home. If it's a problem for you, we can put you on the end of the list and get back to you after we do the rest of our load-and the two we missed already. Might be late."

"No!" She jerked her hand up, forgetting about the spatula in it, and sent a blob of icing flying across the room. Without so much as looking in the direction of the glob of white dripping on the fireplace mantel, she gave a cheery wave of the kitchen tool to show her extreme composure. "I mean, no problem. Bring everything on in."

"Fine. Where do you want it?"

She looked around them. "I was thinking maybe in this big empty room here."

"Yeah?" He scrunched up his face as if he'd just taken a bite out of a lemon. "Here?"

"Um, yeah." She held her arm out to drive home the point. "Here."

"Okay, it's your house, lady. Not my place to judge." He shrugged, made a mark on the crumpled paper on his clipboard and headed out the door, hollering, "Bring it on inside."

"What was that about?" she asked Sam.

Sam c.o.c.ked his head and held up his hands.

"Some people. Huh?" She didn't really know what she meant by that, but the moment seemed to need something more before she could sigh an "Oh, well" and get things rolling again. "Why don't you take Squirrelly outside so she won't be underfoot or try to run out the front door? And while you're out there, bring that tub of s.p.a.ckling compound Payt has in his work shed."

"The powdery stuff?"

"No. He saved some already-mixed-up compound in a clear plastic container with a blue lid-like we use to store leftovers and things around the kitchen."

"What are you going to do?"

"I've got to get this cake iced."

"With s.p.a.ckling stuff?"

"No. That's just in case the movers ding the walls-that way I can fill in any nicks or gouges before Stilton's mom gets here."

His look asked what he'd never voice: What is it with you and Stilton's mom? What is it with you and Stilton's mom?

She felt compelled to offer an explanation even though he hadn't actually said anything. "You only get one chance to make a first impression."

"Mrs. Faison has been here before."

"Yes, but that time came off less like an impression and more an indentation." She grimaced.

"Huh?"

She pointed toward the work shed. "Go."

In a whirlwind of bored-little-boy energy set loose, Sam grabbed the dog, hit the door and headed outside.

Hannah plunked the tub of frosting down on the counter and laid the spatula aside.

How did it go? Plop, then swirl the top, then the sides? Or sides first, top last?

"Wait." She held her hands up, suddenly recalling the cla.s.s she had taken in cake decorating. "I'm forgetting something here."

She examined the rectangular cake sitting on a foil-covered piece of heavy cardboard.

"Let's see. Top. Sides. Frosting. Spatula." She ticked off the bits and pieces of the process she knew she had under control. "What else?"

The back door slammed shut. The pounding of Sam's shoes thundered through the whole house.

"Oh, crumbs!"

The boy pulled up short just six inches shy of hitting the side of the kitchen counter at full force. Tub of s.p.a.ckling compound in both hands, he looked up at her, breathing hard from his run. "Wow!"

"What?"

"I never heard you cuss before."

"I never...Oh, crumbs!" Hannah laughed. "No, honey, I just remembered I have to brush the crumbs off the cake before I ice it."

"Why?"

"So the crumbs won't get in the frosting."

"Doesn't it all get mixed-up together when you eat it?"

"Well, yes, but..." She made a motion in the air, trying to demonstrate the smooth surface she hoped to achieve. "Not important. Let's just say, sweeping of the crumbs makes me happy."

"You know that's really weird, though, don't you?"

She tipped her chin and held out her hand. "Hand me my spatula, good sir."

"Where is it?"

"I left it right...hmm, no." She spun around and checked in the sink.

"Can't you use old trusty?"

Could she? For an instant it was tempting...but only for an instant.

"'Fraid not."

He frowned at the rejection of his idea.

She placed her hand on his back. "But you can get old trusty out and test the s.p.a.ckling stuff to make sure it hasn't hardened. How about that?"

He flexed his arms to show his impressive muscles and announced, "s.p.a.ckle-tester man."

"Go for it."

"Where would I be if I were a spatula?" She shuffled through the things scattered on the countertop, peeking under the edge of the cardboard cake carrier, lifting up a crushed paper towel. No luck. "Wait, I had it with the frosting tub in the living room."

Sam hoisted up the tub of frosting.

"Yup. There is it."

He set her tub down again and placed his carefully a few inches away.

"Now to dust for crumbs and get this show on the road." Hannah reached for the frosting.

Tessa's piercing cry made her jerk, which almost knocked the tub to the floor.

Sam caught it in time and pushed it back in place.

"Thanks. I'll go get the baby and be right back." She dashed through to living room with a glance out the open front door to see how far the deliverymen had gotten.

Beep...beep...beep. The truck backed slowly into the semicircular drive.

She sighed. At this rate there'd never be time to get the furniture situated, the walls retouched and the cake frosted before Lauren Faison showed up!

Hannah made the trek from front room to nursery in record time. A quick diaper change and a fresh T-s.h.i.+rt and Tessa could sit in her high chair and be a party to the goings-on from there.

"Hey, lady, what goes where in here?"

"Sam!" She called him to the nursery, and when he appeared in the doorway, she managed to call to him over her shoulder, "I'm up to my wrists in..."

He pinched his nose. "I know!"

"Can you tell the men to wait a minute?"

"I can tell them where to put everything, Hannah. I watched you and Payt walk around last night saying where to put stuff."

"Okay. Fine. It's not like I can stand and direct them anyway. And if I don't like where they set things, I can always move them." A year ago she'd have never imagined the skill with which she would be able to clean up a baby's bottom and simultaneously give a young boy instructions. "Let me go over this for you-big couch and little couch on either side of the fireplace, oak armoire on the opposite wall, coffee table in the middle. Anything else just set out of the way and I'll position it myself. Got that?"

He used his hands to show her the layout. "Big, little, oak, table."

"Great. I'll be in just as soon as-"

R-r-r-r-ring.

"Just as soon as the world stops spinning," she muttered. She stamped down the tab on her daughter's fresh diaper and picked up the child, drool-stained s.h.i.+rt and all, and headed for the kitchen.

R-r-r-r-ring.

Hannah eased Tessa into her high chair and turned just as Sam nabbed the phone from its stand. "h.e.l.lo?"

"Whoever it is, tell them I can't take the call right now." In two steps she had globbed liquid soap onto her hands and thrust them under the faucet in the kitchen sink.

"Sorry, Mrs. Faison, she can't-"

She lunged for the phone, marveling that it didn't slip through her soapy fingers and go sailing through the air. "I can't believe it's you, Lauren."

She couldn't. She really really couldn't. couldn't.

"Yes, well, hate to impose, but Stilton's Tae Kwon Do lesson at our church fell through at the last minute."

And you want me to teach him how to break boards with various body parts? She had the presence of mind not to say the first thing that popped into her mind, though the image of beating her head against a two-by-four lingered even as she said, "That's too bad. What can She had the presence of mind not to say the first thing that popped into her mind, though the image of beating her head against a two-by-four lingered even as she said, "That's too bad. What can I I do for you?" do for you?"

"Since we were already out running errands, I hoped you wouldn't mind if we stopped by a bit sooner than we planned?"

She was was an early bird. But she called first. Of course she called first-otherwise it would be a kind of a fault, and this woman didn't have those. an early bird. But she called first. Of course she called first-otherwise it would be a kind of a fault, and this woman didn't have those.

"Fine, Lauren. I'm frosting the cake ri-i-i-ght-" she leaned over, dipped the spatula into the tub and slopped a dollop of frosting onto the cake "-now."

"See you in a sec!"

"A what? A sack?" Hannah stuck her finger in her ear. The movers had begun s.h.i.+fting furniture about, clunking and grunting and shoving things along the carpeted floor.

"Well, Tessa, honey, I hope she won't find me in a sack. Though if I thought I could find one big enough to hide in, I might try it." She waved the spatula, then started to work. "I shouldn't have let this frosting sit with the lid off so long. It's gotten dried-up and a little stiff."