Книга Because Of The Twins... - читать онлайн бесплатно, автор Carole Halston. Cтраница 3
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Because Of The Twins...
Because Of The Twins...
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Because Of The Twins...

“If you ‘decide.’ It’s something you’ve considered?”

“Yes,” she admitted. “I love children, but I also love my career.”

“What’s wrong with getting married and having children the old-fashioned way so they have a mother and a father?”

“Great in theory. But marriage is a bigger long shot for me than for your average person. I have a divorce gene on both sides of my family tree. Not only my parents but also all my aunts and uncles are on their third or fourth marriages. I tend to believe a child is better off in a stable home with one parent than being shuttled back and forth.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “Your background is even similar to Heather’s.”

“But I am not devious and manipulative,” Holly stated.

The twins chose that moment to interrupt.

“I’m hungry!” Jennifer announced, running up to Holly.

Justin was close behind his sister. “Me, too! I want a hamburger and French fries!”

“I want chicken nuggets and French fries!

“Let’s check with your daddy,” Holly said, looking to Graham for a response. After all, he was the parent.

“Fast food?” he said, frowning. “Shouldn’t kids their age eat a healthy diet?”

“Most of the time. But fast food occasionally is probably okay, don’t you think?”

The twins were jumping up and down and clamoring for a kiddy’s meal from their favorite franchise.

“Okay. Okay,” Graham said, succumbing to the pressure. “But they’ll drink milk, not cola.”

In the parking lot, Justin climbed up into the minivan ahead of his sister, announcing, “It’s my turn to sit by the window.”

“No it’s not your turn!” Jennifer shouted. She began to wail at the top of her lungs and stubbornly refused to climb up next to him.

He refused to yield his place.

Half-amused, Holly turned to Graham, who looked mortified. “How do we resolve this dispute?”

He lifted his hands in a helpless gesture, then spoke to his son, “Justin, why don’t you let your sister sit there? She’s a little girl.”

“Now wait just a minute,” Holly objected, hands on hips. “That’s very sexist and not fair to Justin. Being a little girl doesn’t mean Jennifer should have her way every time she makes a fuss.”

“You’re right.” He spoke to his daughter, “Jennifer, please get into the van so that we can go and buy our lunch. It’s a short ride.”

“She can sit here,” Justin said, and scooted over. Jennifer’s wails instantly quieted. She promptly seated herself in the place he’d vacated.

“Thank you, Justin,” Graham said.

When it was clear he intended to leave the matter there, Holly spoke up firmly. “When we come out of the restaurant, Justin will sit by the window on the ride home. Is that understood, Jennifer?”

“Come out of the restaurant?” Graham repeated, his tone appalled. “You’re intending to take them inside to eat?”

“Isn’t that what you intended?”

“No, I figured we’d take the food home and contend with the mess there.”

Both children had been following the exchange between the adults. They chimed in, begging to go inside the restaurant and play in the children’s amusement center.

Once again Graham gave in. “Okay, okay,” he said.

Holly could guess from his expression that he’d never before in his life felt any less enthusiasm for a meal out.

“Isn’t that sweet? The little darlings fell sound asleep in front of the TV.” Holly’s tender smile lingered on her lips as she looked over at Graham. After returning to his condo, the adults had gone into the kitchen to clean up the mess made at breakfast. Finished, they’d come out into the living room and found the twins napping on the floor.

Lunch at the fast-food restaurant had undoubtedly proved to be about as bad as Graham had expected. Jennifer and Justin had managed to spill their cartons of milk and also knock over Holly’s iced tea during the course of the meal. The iced tea had emptied right onto the crotch of Graham’s jeans. Both twins had gotten ketchup smeared all over their faces and their clothes. They’d seemed to drop more fries on the floor than they’d succeeded in eating. Jennifer had sneezed with her mouth full of food, and Justin had choked on a bite of hamburger.

On the way out of the restaurant, Graham had apologized profusely to the woman who was wiping tables and tidying up. He’d no doubt made her day when he tipped her five dollars.

“Should I put them in bed?” Graham asked now, gazing at his children with his air of tense bewilderment. “I hate to wake them up.”

“They seem comfortable lying on the carpet.” Each twin had garnered a throw pillow. “Why not let them finish out their nap? I should probably go and let you grab one yourself. You look tired.” Holly’s tone was sympathetic.

“I am tired,” he admitted. “But it’s as much mental fatigue as anything else. I just can’t believe I got myself into this dilemma. But I have.” He glanced at the sleeping twins, compassion on his face. “I feel bad for them, too. They deserve a couple of good parents. Instead they end up with a totally inadequate father.”

“Not inadequate. Just inexperienced.”

“Inadequate,” he insisted grimly. “I always suspected I wasn’t cut out for parenthood, and now I realize I was right.”

“Could we have a cup of coffee?” Holly asked. He probably needed to talk out his fears and vent his emotions as much as he needed physical rest, and she was more than happy to stick around and serve as his sounding board.

“Sure. The least I can do is serve you coffee. You’ve helped me get through part of today.”

He led the way back into the kitchen. Holly made herself comfortable at the table in the dining nook while he measured coffee and started the coffee-maker.

“Have you definitely decided to raise the twins yourself?” she asked.

“So far I haven’t come up with any viable alternatives. I can’t dump a couple of kids on my parents. Heather’s parents have declined.”

“There’re no other family members on either side who would jump at the chance to give Justin and Jennifer a good home?”

“Not on my side. My brother, Greg, is divorced. Heather was an only child.”

Another similarity, Holly reflected. She was also an only child.

Graham was continuing. “According to Lena Booth, the aunt, there’s one married male cousin who might have agreed to adopt the twins. Apparently he and his wife want a family and haven’t been able to have children. But he works for a major oil company and is currently living in Malaysia.”

“Scratch him off.”

Holly watched as he took down mugs from a cabinet, noting with pleasure the play of his T-shirt across broad shoulders and taut back muscles. From the waist down he didn’t have anything to apologize for, either. He’d changed into clean jeans when they got back here after lunch. This pair fit perfectly, too.

“Do you take creamer? Sugar? Sugar substitute?” He glanced around and caught her admiring his body.

She jerked her gaze up to meet his and smiled sheepishly. “Just creamer, please.”

He turned to face her, folding his arms across his chest. “Holly, I’ve got enough on my plate as it is.”

Holly raised her eyebrows at his stern tone of reprisal. “I like the way you’re built. What’s the big deal?” she said lightly.

“I’m not about to get involved with you. Especially not now. That’s the big deal.”

This latest rejection hurt more than earlier ones had. The few hours in his company had somehow made her more vulnerable. “Ouch.”

“I’m sorry to have to be so blunt.”

“Tell me I’m not imagining things. The attraction is mutual, isn’t it?”

“Don’t play games. Of course I’m attracted to you.”

“But you’re convinced I’m too much like Heather for you to let down your guard.”

He sucked in a deep breath and nodded.

“So are we having coffee or is that too risky?”

“Don’t be flip,” he said angrily.

“Would you rather I showed my disappointment?” Heather stood up. “Goodbye, Graham.”

“Look, I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.”

Holly left. What more was there to say? For all her agitation, she was careful to close the door behind her very quietly so as not to disturb the sleeping twins.

“Where did Holly go?” Jennifer asked tearfully.

“She went home to her place,” Graham answered.

“Is she coming back?” Justin asked, his brown eyes solemn.

“No, she isn’t coming back.” Graham sighed, empathizing with his children’s downcast expressions. He couldn’t blame Jennifer and Justin for objecting to Holly’s absence after they awoke from their nap. Now they were stuck with him to take care of their needs.

“Why did she leave?” the little boy wanted to know.

Graham searched for an honest explanation they could comprehend. “Holly and I know each other through our work, but we aren’t friends. We don’t normally spend time together on weekends.”

“I want Holly,” Jennifer said, beginning to sob.

“Please don’t cry, Jennifer.” Feeling more inept than he’d ever felt in his life, Graham crouched down near his little daughter, wanting to comfort her. She turned her back to him and scooted away beyond his reach.

“I want Holly! I want my mommy!” she sobbed.

Justin crawled over near his twin and put his arms around her. Jennifer leaned into him, crying pitifully. They made a woebegone picture. Graham felt tears of compassion smarting his eyes.

“Would you like to watch TV?” he suggested, hearing his desperation in his voice.

“Would you, sis?” asked Justin, patting her on the back. “You can hold the remote and change the channels.”

Jennifer sniffled and sat apart. Without looking at Graham she said to him, “Can we have cookies and milk?”

“I don’t have any cookies. But I have some crackers and cheese. You can come into the kitchen and eat a snack.”

She folded her small arms across her chest in a defiant stance. “Mary lets us eat our snacks in the living room while we watch TV.”

Graham had a sudden vision of the restaurant where they’d created a scene of devastation. French fries scattered over the floor, table streaked with milk and ketchup, a pile of sodden napkins used to wipe up spillage.

He could easily imagine the mess the twins would make of his living room carpet if he humored Jennifer and gave them their snack in front of the TV. But maybe he should humor her to try to make friends. After all, a carpet could be cleaned. On the other hand, shouldn’t there be house rules?

Hell, Graham didn’t know what he should do.

Halfway home it dawned on Holly that she’d forgotten all about telling Graham his raffle ticket had been drawn last night at the fund-raiser. There’d been so little opportunity for them to carry on adult conversation, and other topics had claimed priority.

He hadn’t jogged her memory by asking, “What did you want to tell me in person?” Was he just not curious? Had he not gotten around to asking? Or had he simply assumed she’d come up with some flimsy pretext for seeing him?

“Answer C,” Holly said, grimacing.

Braking for a red light, she dug into her handbag for her cell phone, then dropped it back in. If she phoned him now, she might wake the twins from their nap.

Do yourself a favor. Send him a fax at his office on Monday.

Holly knew she wouldn’t take that advice from herself. For one thing, she needed to find out whether or not he planned to make use of his prize and assign her a weeklong decorating project. If so, she would have to schedule the time.

The chances were practically nil that he would avail himself of her expertise. She expected a courteous brush-off from him. Still, she’d promised Ann to notify Graham, and notify him Holly would.

At home she played her phone messages and returned calls to clients and friends. Several people extended casual invitations. In truth, Holly wasn’t in much of a mood for socializing that evening, but she wasn’t about to sit around and mope, so she agreed to see a movie with a decorator friend, Patricia Connors, whose husband was out of town. They decided on the seven o’clock showing.

The movie, a romantic comedy, turned out to be as good as advertised. Afterward, her spirits much improved, Holly joined Patricia at a restaurant near the theater for a light supper. The two women relived particularly humorous parts of the movie as they ate. After splitting the bill, they said goodnight.

It was only ten o’clock, not too late to call Graham, Holly decided as she let herself into her house. He wasn’t likely to be entertaining female company tonight. And by now surely the twins would be asleep.

Holly used the phone in her office, emphasizing to herself that the call was strictly business.

Graham answered between the first and second ring. “Hello.”

He sounded bone weary and the timbre of his voice made her wonder if he was lying down.

“Hi, this is Holly. I hope I didn’t wake you up.” She stiffened her posture when he didn’t reply immediately, evidently needing a second to adjust to her identity.

“No, I hadn’t gone to sleep yet.”

“But you had gone to bed. I’m sorry. I’ll call at a more convenient time.”

“Right now I don’t have a bed of my own,” he said, ignoring her final remark. “I’m bunking on the sofa these days.” She could hear a muffled yawn.

“You gave the twins your bedroom?”

“It was either that or a pallet on the floor.”

“I thought those condos had two bedrooms.”

“They do. But I use the smaller one as a study. I have bookcases in there. A computer.”

“So you’ll sacrifice your study and turn that room over to the twins.” Common sense said he didn’t plan to sleep indefinitely on the sofa.

“Do you think that’s okay at their age for them to share a bedroom? God, I hate to think of moving somewhere else right now.”

“Sure, I think it’s okay as a temporary arrangement. You can do something really cute with creating two separate spaces, a girl space and a boy space.”

“It’s not a large room we’re talking about.”

“There’s a closet for clothes, right? All you’ll require in the way of furniture is a single bed and a chest of drawers for each twin. Preferably not matching. Two separate sections of wall shelves will do nicely for their toys. Maybe murals on opposite walls.” Holly’s enthusiasm warmed her voice.

“Murals?” he repeated doubtfully.

“Yes. A cowboy or sports motif on Justin’s side and something more feminine, say a ballerina or a scene out of Snow White on Jennifer’s side. Don’t you like the idea?”

“Of course. It’s a neat idea, but I’ll be doing good to get the room cleared out and furniture bought in the next couple of weeks, let alone hire an artist to paint murals.”

What better opening for Holly to tell him the purpose of her call? “You’re in luck,” she declared lightly. “Last night at our drawing you won the Decorating Consultant for a Week prize. I’m the decorator whose services you get free, and it so happens I minored in fine art in college.”

“You’re joking.”

She didn’t pretend to misunderstand his amazement. “No, I don’t joke about working free of charge.”

“This is all on the up-and-up? I mean, my raffle ticket was drawn…?”

He didn’t finish his sentence, perhaps reacting to Holly’s sharply drawn breath.

“Are you suggesting that I rigged our drawing?” she demanded, incredulous as well as insulted.

His silence was proof that he had indeed considered that possibility. “It just struck me as something of a coincidence,” he said lamely.

“Exactly the sort of trick Heather would pull, right?”

His sigh came over the line. “Holly, don’t take offense. Please.”

He hadn’t denied that he was judging her by Heather’s behavior.

“Ann Johnson asked me to contact you, and now I have,” she said crisply. “I’ll need to know whether you’ll want to take advantage of my services.”

“God knows I could use your help right now.”

“Yes, you need my help. And you’ll utilize my skills if you put the welfare of the twins first. They can have a special room of their own instead of just a makeshift bedroom. But you make up your own mind and let me know what you’ve decided.” Holly cut the connection.

The bullheaded so-and-so would probably communicate with her through his secretary to say, “Thanks, but no thanks.” Which was just fine with Holly.

Not true.

Holly wanted to create the delightful room she’d begun to envision for Justin and Jennifer. During those few hours today, she’d already grown fond of both children. It was impossible not to feel concerned about them and wish she could play some role in brightening their young lives.

Despite her irritation at Graham, it was impossible not to be concerned about him, too.

Graham listened to the buzz of the dead line a few seconds before he pressed the disconnect button on his portable phone.

Holly’s righteous indignation had rung true. The raffle drawing had undoubtedly been on the up and up. He felt foolish for having reacted suspiciously. It had just come as such a surprise to learn he’d won Holly’s services.

She hadn’t exactly chased him, but she’d made it plain she was interested in dating him. He’d learned his lesson with Heather and had shied away from women who came on to him. Hell, he’d shied away from women period the past four plus years since his affair with Heather had ended so abruptly with her dumping him. Of course, now he understood her underlying motives.

Comprehension didn’t make him any less confident of himself in sizing up the opposite sex. Quite the opposite. He’d learned he was even a bigger fool than he’d believed. Who was to say he’d be smarter in future relationships?

Graham was ready to admit he was probably being unfair to Holly, not giving her a chance to prove she wasn’t like Heather in personality and character, but he didn’t have the time or energy to put into dating anyway. He had all he could handle coping with sudden parenthood.

So what was he going to do about Holly? Should he turn over to her the headache of fixing up a bedroom for the twins?

Should and would, Graham decided. He’d give her a key to his condo and a ballpark budget and say, “Do it.”

There shouldn’t be any need for consultations. She would have a free hand. She could come during the day while he was at work. Call him a coward, but he didn’t trust himself to be around her and keep his guard up. He was too attracted to her, too tempted to be friends.

Graham closed his eyes and let himself visualize Holly as she’d looked that morning standing outside his door in her jeans and T-shirt. Honey-blond hair tucked behind her ears in a casual style. A warm smile on her lips and her pretty blue eyes alight with humor and intelligence. Definitely a nice sight that had stirred pleasure in him even in his unhappy state of mind.

As tired as he was tonight, lying there in the darkness of his living room wearing nothing but his underwear, it would be easy to fantasize about Holly and get himself turned on sexually. Easy, but totally stupid. Graham sat up abruptly, dropping the cordless phone in the process.

He snapped on a lamp and searched for the TV remote, finally locating it under a chair cushion. After thirty minutes of mindless channel surfing, he glanced at his watch and decided he should go ahead and call Holly tonight. He figured she would appreciate finding out this weekend that she needed to schedule in time for turning his study into a bedroom for the twins.

Graham delayed long enough to drag on his jeans before he looked up Holly’s home number. It was silly, but he felt too vulnerable talking to her in a near-naked state.

She answered and sounded awake but extremely relaxed.

“Hi, it’s Graham,” he said. “I took the chance you might still be up.”

“No problem. Did you make up your mind?”

“Yes, it was pretty much a no-brainer. I called to give you the go-ahead on the bedroom project.” Did he hear water splashing?

“Fine.”

Now gurgling sounds.

“Whoops! I almost slipped,” she gasped.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting out of the bathtub. I took a long, hot soak.”

Thanks for sharing that with me, Graham thought dryly, captivated by an X-rated vision of a nude Holly, all wet and rosy-skinned and smelling of sweetly scented soap.

“Why don’t I call you back in a few minutes?” he suggested.

“Just hold on a second while I wrap myself in a towel. Okay,” she said after several seconds. “What are your plans for tomorrow?”

He was too taken aback to reply immediately. “If I work up the courage, I might venture out to the supermarket with the twins and buy their kind of cereal and some cookies. Other than that, I’m playing tomorrow by ear. Why?”

“I’d like to come by and see the room. The sooner I get started, the sooner I’ll be finished and out of your hair.”

“Sure, you can come by,” he said, none too happy over the leap of his pulse at the prospect of seeing her tomorrow. “What’s best for you, morning or afternoon?”

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