The Daddy Project

The kitchen countertops were still home to more items than potential buyers needed to see, but he’d made a valiant attempt to clear them. She was impressed.

“Coffee?” he asked.

“No, thanks. I’ve already had tea.”

She pulled a file folder and her laptop out of her bag, and carefully set the bag on the floor out of the way. She was not risking a repeat of yesterday’s disaster.

She took the stool next to his at the breakfast bar and slid the folder toward him.

“This is my proposal,” she said. “I’ve tried to keep it simple and straightforward. Mostly painting and bringing in some fabrics to freshen things up. I would also like to give you some solutions to help you keep things organized.”

She watched him open the folder and scan the contents, hoping he wasn’t overly offended by her inference that his home was, well, disorganized.

“Outside, we’ll want to uncover the pool, have it cleaned and filled. It’s one of the main selling features of the house. And…ah…it would be a good idea to turn the pergola back into a pool house.”

Since he was currently using it for his work at the university, she hesitated to suggest that the plants had to go because she wasn’t sure how he would react. She still didn’t really understand exactly what it was that he did. Last night she had found his page on the university’s website, which included a description of his research interests and a list of papers he’d published recently. She’d hardly understood a word of it. Who knew plants were so complicated? Or that a man who could pass for a film star would find them so interesting?

“No problem,” he said, surprising her. “Can you give me a week?”

“Of course. There’s lots to do inside.”

He closed the folder. “This isn’t as bad as I expected. Where do we start?”

“I’ve listed the rooms in the order I’d like to work on them.” She had decided to tackle the rooms that were in the worst shape first. “My plan is to begin with your daughters’ bedroom and your office.”

“That’s fine with me. Is there anything I can do?”

“Yes. If there are items in your office that can be filed or put in storage, that will help at lot. Those are decisions I can’t make for you.”

“Makes sense.”

Relieved that he seemed willing to go along with her suggestions, she pressed on. “This morning I’ll get going on the girls’ bedroom. I’ll bring in some bins they can use to help sort their things.”

Nate seemed unsure. “I’m not sure how that’ll go over.”

Did he think four-year-olds couldn’t take ownership of their own messes? she wondered. Or that it was a parent’s job to do everything for them?

That could explain why he was so overwhelmed. Or maybe he was overwhelmed and didn’t even realize it.

“Let’s see how it goes,” she said. “I have a couple of tricks up my sleeve.”

“Daddy, can we watch something else now?” Molly called from the next room.

“Maybe later. Kristi would like you and Martha to show her your bedroom.”

She and Nate slid off their stools and joined the girls in the family room. The TV was already off and both girls were on their feet.

“Come on,” Molly said.

Martha took her hand and tugged.

Kristi grabbed her bag and let them lead her down the hallway with Nate following, somewhat reluctantly if she had to guess.

Once inside the room, each girl climbed onto her unmade bed, Kristi sat on an upholstered ottoman, and Nate hovered in the doorway.

“First I’d like to talk about your favorite things,” Kristi said.

“Barbie!” Molly said.

Martha shook her head. “Barney!”

Okay, no theme there. “What about colors? What’s your favorite?”

“Purple!” they said in unison.

Okay, she could work with that.

“I like purple, too.” She pulled a binder and her paint palette out of her bag and fanned the chips to show them. “Is there another color you both like?”

“Blue.”

“Red.”

Purple, red and blue. Not going to happen. She slid a sample of soft, pale apple green from the palette. “What about this? If we paint your walls pale green, we can use your favorite color as an accent for things like bedding and curtains.”

“I yike purple and green,” Martha said.

“Me, too.”

“I wonder what your dad thinks,” Kristi said, glancing at Nate, who was leaning against the door frame.

“Doesn’t green clash with purple?”

Kristi flipped the pages in her binder and showed him the color wheel. “They’re on opposite sides of the wheel, so they’re actually complementary colors.” She ran her finger in a line across the page. “Think of a plant that has purple flowers and green leaves.”

He leaned in for a closer look. “Okay, that makes sense.”

She congratulated herself on the plant analogy. “I suggest a very light shade for the walls, and then we can put together some accessories the girls will enjoy now and that they can take with them. Before we can start painting, we’ll need to move all your stuff into the guest room,” she said to the girls. “Would you like to help with that?”

Molly bounced on her bed. “Yup. We’re good helpers.”

Martha stuck her thumb in her mouth and shook her head.

“Why not?” Kristi asked.

“She likes sleeping here,” Molly said.

“Martha, is that true?”

The little girl nodded.

Kristi looked to Nate for help.

“I have an idea,” he said. “How about we turn this into a little holiday? I’ll set up the tent in the family room, and you can sleep in there till your room is ready. It’ll be like a camping trip.”

Martha’s eyes lit up and she gave her head a vigorous nod.

Molly jumped off the bed. “Sleeping bags! Can we have hot dogs? And marshmallows?”

“Sure we can.”

Martha leaned close to Kristi and pulled her thumb out of her mouth again. “You, too?” she asked.

Kristi didn’t know if she was being invited for hot dogs or the whole camping holiday.

“Thank you for asking me,” she said, avoiding looking at Nate. “But I have to go home and have dinner with my daughter.”

“She can come.”

“How old is she?” Molly sounded as though she was looking for a new playmate.

“She’s fourteen. A lot older than you and Martha. She likes hot dogs, though.” Camping not so much. “Are you ready to get started?”

Nate stepped into the room. “If we’re having hot dogs, we’ll have to make a trip to the market. Do you mind if we leave you on your own for a while?”

“I want to stay,” Molly said.

Martha’s head bobbed in agreement. “I don’t yike the market.”

“If you don’t like the market, I could sure use some help here.” Kristi wondered what Nate would think of that. “They’ll be fine with me if you’d like to go on your own.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.” She loved kids and these two were adorable. Besides, she had a hunch they would be more willing to cooperate with her cleanup plan if their dad wasn’t here.

“Girls, are you okay to stay with Kristi?”

“Yes!” they chorused.

The telephone rang, interrupting their conversation. “I’d better take that,” he said.

“While you’re still here, I’ll bring in the bins I use for sorting.”

Kristi followed Nate as far as the foyer. From there he went into the kitchen to get the phone and she let herself out the front door.

Several minutes later she returned with as many plastic bins as she could carry. She set them on the floor inside the front door and went in search of Nate. She hoped he would agree to pare down some of the toys, especially the stuffed animals, but she hadn’t wanted to ask in front of the girls.

The dog, still doing a bear-rug imitation, gave her a lazy blink. Nate stood by the patio doors in the family room, his back to her, phone to his ear.

“Mom, I’m sure your friend’s daughter is very nice,” she heard him say. “And I’d be happy to meet her some other time, but it’s Britt’s birthday so this should be about her.”

He paused to listen to his mother’s reply.

Kristi cringed. His mother was obviously trying to set him up with someone, and it was just as clear that he didn’t want to be set up. Poor guy. She could relate. Yesterday’s call from her mother still echoed in her head, and remembering the story she’d made up brought on a fresh wave of guilt. And she shouldn’t be listening to Nate try to wriggle out of a similar situation. This was way too personal.

“Here’s the thing,” he said. “I’m sort of seeing someone.”

Okay, you really need to get out of here, Kristi told herself. But curiosity kept her rooted in the doorway.

“Oh. Ah, her name is Kristi. She’s—” He turned around and stopped talking.

Their gazes locked and held.

He ran a hand through his hair. “Mom, I’ll call you back. I have to check on the kids.” He ended the call without waiting for a response.

The room was suddenly warm and much smaller.

“Oh, God. I am so sorry. I didn’t mean for you to hear that.” He spiked his hair again. “It’s just that my family has this thing about introducing me to women. I was trying to figure a way out of it this time, but I shouldn’t have mentioned you.”

“A blind date?” Kristi laughed. She couldn’t help herself. “Trust me, you do not have to apologize. My family does the same thing to me all the time.”

“Really? So…you’re not seeing anyone?”

“No, I’m not.” Although she was surprised he asked. “A fact that makes my mother a little crazy. Yesterday she called about my aunt’s Fourth of July barbecue. She was going to invite this guy who used to live across the street when I was in high school.”

“How did you handle it?”

Should she tell him? If she did, it might make him less uncomfortable. “I did the same thing you just did.”

His eyes narrowed.

“I told her I’d met someone, and your name kind of slipped out.”

There was no humor in his laugh. “So your family thinks you’re taking me to your aunt’s barbecue.”

“I guess so. I’ll have to come up with some excuse why you won’t be there but—”

“And my mother will expect you to be at the cocktail party she’s throwing for my sister’s birthday.”

She didn’t respond, but then he didn’t really seem to be talking to her anyway.

“This could work. You come to my sister’s birthday party. I go to your aunt’s barbecue.” He sounded calm and rational, as though he was laying out the steps in a lab experiment. “What do you think?”

She was pretty sure he didn’t want to know what she was thinking. “I don’t know. I used to lie to my mother about some of the guys I was dating, but I’ve never lied about someone I’m not dating.”

He shrugged. “So you’d rather spend an afternoon at a family picnic with the guy who lived across the street?”

God, no. “I’d rather go by myself.”

“That’s how I feel about my sister’s birthday party. But unless I come up with an alternate plan, I’m going to be paired with my mother’s bridge partner’s daughter.”

“So I heard.” And she would suffer the same fate if she didn’t make plans of her own.

“What is it with families?”

“They mean well,” she said. “At least mine does. My mom was a single parent, too, and it was hard for her. I think she always wished she’d find someone but never did, and now she’s shifted that focus onto me.”

“My family wants to find a new mother for Molly and Martha.” His voice was thick with resentment. “They seem to think I’m in over my head.”

“Oh, I’m sure they don’t. Your girls are great. They’re happy. Anyone can see they’re well cared for.”

“Thank you.” The tension around his eyes softened.

“You’re welcome.”

“So, how about it? You come to my sister’s birthday party, I’ll go to your family barbecue, and we’ll call it even.”

Say no. “Sure,” she said instead.

He offered his hand to seal the deal. “It’s a date.”

She shook it. “A fake date.”

“Make that two fake dates.” He smiled and her insides turned to Jell-O.

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