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Twin Wishes
“But I can help him with his kids,” Julianne said softly to herself. But, if she did, would she be setting herself up for more heartache? She groaned at the thought. Suddenly, that banana cream pie she’d saved for herself was starting to sound very good. Maybe she could drown her uncertainty in a slice. Or two.
Chapter Three
When the alarm sounded the next morning, Luke reached to shut it off quickly. Maybe the kids hadn’t heard it ring. If they’d sleep in this morning, they’d be in a better mood for Julianne that day, and if he could make her day better in some way, he wanted to do it. Having Julianne in the children’s lives was something for which Luke was beginning to feel very grateful. Even after only a few days, Nora and Todd seemed to have bonded with her in some very real, unexplainable way. But Luke wasn’t looking for any explanations. He was just glad about this bit of good luck his family had happened upon and, although the old habit of thanking God had briefly crossed his mind, he chose not to. It seemed pointless to thank someone that, at times, you weren’t even sure existed.
The holiday yesterday had actually been a pleasant one, much to Luke’s surprise; the kids had been happy, content…not squabbling and wrangling with each other. Was it all because of Julianne Quinn? he wondered. It certainly seemed that way. He couldn’t think of any other logical explanation.
Luke climbed out of bed and began to get ready for his day when it occurred to him that he hadn’t dreamed of Kimberly last night. Not as far as he could recall. That had been the first time in over a year. Placing his razor on the edge of the bathroom sink, he stared into the mirror. Was that change because of Julianne, too? Luke couldn’t answer that question, and he didn’t know how to feel. Grateful or guilty? He’d loved his wife for such a long time. He loved her still. It was too soon, far too soon, the way he saw it, to notice another woman—no matter how easy she was to talk to or how good she was with the children. It just didn’t feel right, and Luke was having trouble believing that it ever would.
The front porch light was on when Julianne pulled her small green car into a parking spot in front of the O’Hara home. The house was an attractive two-story home, an older style with white railing all around the front porch and a wide wooden swing for lazy summer evenings. The siding was yellow, quite cheery looking in the daylight; but this morning it was bathed in only streetlights and the front porch lamp. Julianne approached the wide front steps and hurried up them. She rapped lightly on the door, not wanting to wake the children if they were still sleeping. Almost immediately, Luke pushed the screen door open. He’d been watching for her. She stepped inside where the smell of coffee enveloped her.
“Hi,” she said rather meekly. It seemed so strange, all of a sudden, being here in the early morning hours like this. She felt barely awake yet.
“Good morning. Want some coffee?” Luke asked.
Julianne smiled and placed her small canvas handbag on a nearby end table. “Yes, thank you. It smells good.”
Luke directed her toward the kitchen and reached for a second clean cup from inside the dishwasher. “I don’t like to empty this thing until I have to,” he admitted. He closed the door on the appliance. “I never thought I’d be someone who’d even know how to operate a dishwasher, let alone the idea of loading and unloading one on a regular basis.” He poured the coffee and handed it to the young woman who stood in his kitchen, a young woman about whom he really knew very little. So…why did he trust her as much as he did? “Cream or sugar?” he asked.
“Both,” Julianne answered. “Drinking it black hasn’t grown on me yet. I tried all through college to get used to it that way, but I never did.”
Luke nodded toward the sugar bowl on the table. “And here’s a spoon and saucer,” he added as he pulled these items, too, from the dishwasher. Then he took a quart of milk from the refrigerator and placed it on the table. “Help yourself. I’m going to check on the twins. They were sleeping soundly when I came down here.”
Julianne set to work on making her coffee palatable. She would have much preferred a cup of tea but wouldn’t have dreamed of asking for it. Luke probably wouldn’t have any tea bags in the house, anyway. He didn’t look like the tea-drinking type.
She glanced around the kitchen. It seemed bare, so white and sterile looking. The lack of a woman’s touch was quite evident everywhere. Empty counters, canisters that didn’t match, the simple white blinds at the windows instead of curtains and the lack of pictures or drawings displayed on the refrigerator door—not even a magnet present with which a snapshot could be held. How odd, she thought. She was a single woman, without children, living alone yet she had more items stuck on the door of her refrigerator than this father of two kids had.
“They’re still asleep.” Luke’s voice came unexpectedly from behind her. She nearly spilled her coffee.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologized.
“You didn’t. I mean, it’s okay. Really.” Julianne laughed lightly. “I guess I didn’t hear you come back into the kitchen.” She took a sip of her coffee. “So, do you want me to let them sleep until they wake up on their own? Or would you prefer I get them up at a specific time?”
“Never wake a sleeping child,” Luke answered. “Never. That’s always been my motto.” He paused, suddenly feeling awkward about the situation. She was giving up an entire day to help him. And, why? “Julianne, are you sure you want to spend your Saturday this way? I can stay home today if you’d rather not—”
“I don’t mind at all. Go,” Julianne insisted with a determined look. “Get caught up on your work and don’t worry about us. I’ll have fun with the kids, Maggie will get to rest and you’ll get some work done. We’ll be fine.”
Luke reached for his keys to the truck. “If you’re sure…” He hesitated. “I can call to check on you around lunchtime. If you need me to come home then, I will.”
“Okay,” Julianne replied. “Would it be all right with you if I take the kids someplace? Maybe to Maggie’s to check on her? Or to Swenson’s for ice cream? Something like that?”
“Yes. I trust your judgment,” he stated. And he did trust her for some undefinable reason. He looked from the ring of keys he held in his hand into Julianne’s face, and he smiled a little. She looked sleepy. And young. Her blond hair was caught back in a ponytail and, at twenty-five, she seemed so fresh and alive. Luke wished he could feel that way again. Twenty-five felt like far more than ten years ago for him.
The silence between them made her uneasy. “Is there a number where I could reach you? Just in case I need to,” Julianne asked before taking another sip of her coffee.
“It’s on the table,” Luke nodded toward a small yellow notepad. “I’ll call around noon to see how it’s going.” He picked up the thermos and lunch he had packed for himself earlier that morning. He was ready to leave. Almost. “Julianne, thank you for doing this. It’s not a small thing to give up your day off to watch Todd and Nora for me.” He paused again. “I’ll be glad to pay you whatever you—”
“You’re very welcome and, no, I don’t want any money,” she stated firmly. “I’m doing this as much to help Maggie as to help you. Now, go. It’s nearly seven-fifteen already. Didn’t you want to be out of here by seven?”
“Okay,” he turned to walk toward the front door. “Lock this door behind me.”
“Yes, Luke,” Julianne remarked. “I’m not exactly a fourteen-year-old baby-sitter, you know. Quit worrying. Just go.”
Luke did exactly that. He quit worrying, got into his truck and headed for the city, leaving his kids in good hands. Julianne Quinn’s hands.
Julianne and the children spent their Saturday doing a variety of things. First, there was the usual schedule of cartoons Nora and Todd watched while they ate their cereal and lay around in their pajamas on big pillows on the living room floor. There was playing ball in the backyard, fun in the wading pool, and then helping Julianne unload the dishwasher and find the right places to put the clean dishes away before reloading it with the dirty ones from the sink. Then they took a walk over to Aunt Maggie’s which included a short visit with Uncle Frank at the Book-Stop, where they enjoyed a morning snack of crackers and juice.
“Thanks for watching the kids today, Julianne,” Frank Wren said while he joined them in drinking a juice. “Maggie needs more rest.”
“How is she feeling?” Julianne asked.
“Okay, I think,” Frank replied. “But she’s not one to complain much, so I’m really not sure. I’ll be glad when she gets back in to see the doctor this week.”
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