Mother in Training. Marie Ferrarella

didn’t have time for her exaggerations. “I have to leave.”

      Zooey stunned him by throwing herself in front of the back door, blocking his exit. “Not until you see the kids.”

      There were a hundred things on his mind, not the least of which was mounting a defense for a client who was being convicted by the media on circumstantial evidence. Jack didn’t have time for this.

      “This is a little too dramatic, Zooey,” he informed her, “even for you.”

      He’d come to learn very quickly into her stay with them that the young woman he’d hired to watch over his children was not like the nannies who had come before her. Not in any manner, shape or form.

      It seemed to him that if Zooey had an opinion about something he’d done or hadn’t done, he heard about it. And if he was doing something wrong as far as the children were concerned, he’d hear about that, too. In spades.

      While he found her concern about the children’s welfare reassuring and their love for her comforting—absolving him of whatever guilt he might have for not taking a more active part in their lives—there were times, such as now, when Zooey went too far.

      He glanced at his watch. “Zooey, I’m due in court in a little over an hour.”

      She stared at him, unfazed. “The longer you argue with me, the more time you lose.”

      His eyes narrowed as his hand tightened on his briefcase. “I could physically move you out of the way.”

      Zooey remained exactly where she was. “You could try,” she allowed. And then she smiled broadly. “I know moves you couldn’t even begin to pronounce.”

      He knew of her more than just passing interest in martial arts. Late one evening, he’d come across her on the patio as he investigated the source of a series of strange noises he’d heard. He’d found her practicing moves against a phantom assailant, and remembered thinking that he would feel sorry for anyone stupid enough to try anything with her.

      Looking at her now, Jack had his doubts that she would use those moves against him. But he wasn’t a hundred percent sure that she wouldn’t. She was adamant when it came to the children.

      He tried to appeal to her common sense. This was way before the usual time when Emily and Jackie got up. “You’ll be waking them up.”

      Zooey appeared unfazed by the argument. “They’ll be happy to see you. Besides, they have to get up soon anyway. I’ve got to get Emily ready for school.”

      He’d forgotten. The months seemed to swirl by without leaving an impression. It was October already. School had been in session for over four weeks now. There were times he forgot that his daughter went to school at all.

      Maybe because he hadn’t really become involved in her life, he still tended to think of Emily as a baby, hardly older than Jack Jr.

      But even Jackie was growing up.

      Jack blew out a breath. “Okay, let’s go. I don’t have time to argue.”

      Zooey beamed. She was generous in her victory. “That’s what I’ve been saying all along.” Still standing in the doorway, she gestured toward the rear of the house. “After you.”

      He eyed her, picking up on her meaning immediately. “Don’t trust me?”

      Growing up around her parents and uncle had taught her the value of diplomacy. Her parents were experts at it. So Zooey smiled, declining to answer his question directly. “Better safe than sorry.”

      They went to Emily’s room first.

      The little girl was fast asleep. Fanned out across her pillow, her hair looked like spun gold in the early morning sunbeams. Coming to the side of the bed, Zooey gently placed her hand on Emily’s shoulder. She lowered her head until her lips were near her ear. “Emily, honey, your daddy wants to say goodbye.”

      One moment the little girl was asleep, the next her eyes flew open and she bolted upright.

      Her expression as she looked at her father was clearly startled. And frightened. She clutched at his arm as if that was all there was between her and certain oblivion.

      “You’re leaving, Daddy?”

      I knew this was a bad idea, Jack thought darkly. He ran his hand over the silky blond hair. “I’ve got to go, honey. I’ve got an early case in court today and Zooey seemed to think you wouldn’t be happy unless I said goodbye.”

      Instantly, the panicky look was gone. The small, perfect features relaxed. She was a little girl again instead of a tiny, worried adult.

      “Oh, that kind of goodbye.” A smile curved her rosebud mouth. “Okay.”

      Jack was completely confused. He looked at Emily uncertainly. “What other kind of goodbye is there, honey?”

      “Like Mommy’s,” his daughter told him solemnly.

      This time, he raised his eyes to Zooey’s face, looking for some sort of explanation that made sense. “What is she talking about?”

      Zooey’s first words were addressed to Emily, not him. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to help you get ready, honey. In the meantime, why don’t you lie down again and rest a little more.”

      “Okay.” Emily’s voice was already sleepy and she began to drift off again.

      Turning toward Jack, Zooey hooked her arm through his. “C’mon,” she whispered, as if he’d been the one to wake Emily up, and not her. Tugging, she gently drew him out of the room.

      “What’s she talking about?” he asked again the moment they cleared the threshold.

      Instead of answering, Zooey looked at him for a second, searching for something she didn’t find. He didn’t know, she realized. But then, he hadn’t been there during Emily’s nightmares, hadn’t seen the concern in the little girl’s eyes whenever he was late getting home without calling ahead first.

      “Emily is afraid that you’re going to die.”

      Her answer flabbergasted him. He stared at her incredulously.

      “What? Why?” he demanded. He hadn’t done anything to make Emily feel that way. What had Zooey been telling her?

      “Because her mother did,” she answered simply, then went on quickly to reassure him in case he thought there was something wrong with Emily. “It’s not an uncommon reaction for children when they lose one parent to be clinging to the other, afraid they’ll die, too, and leave them orphaned. That’s why I wanted her to see you before you left. So she knows that you’re fine and that you’re coming home to her. She needs that kind of assurance right now.”

      “So now you’re into child psychology?” Jack didn’t quite mean that the way it came out. His tone had sounded sarcastic, he realized. But it wasn’t in him to apologize, so he just refrained from saying anything.

      She treated it as a straightforward question. To take offense would be making this about her, and it wasn’t. It was about the children.

      “I dabbled in it, yes. Took a couple of courses,” she added.

      Jack was silent for a moment, then nodded toward his son’s room. “And what’s Jackie’s story?”

      “He picks up on Emily’s vibrations,” Zooey told him frankly. “Except at his age, even though he’s very bright, he doesn’t know what to make of them.” And then she smiled. “Mostly, he just wants his daddy around. Like any other little boy.”

      Jack had never been one of those fun parents, the kind featured in Saturday morning cartoon show ads. He hadn’t the knack for children’s games, and his imagination only went as far as drafting briefs. He couldn’t see why his children would care about having him around.

      “Why,” he demanded, “when they have