Part-Time Wife. Сьюзен Мэллери

are.”

      “I know what color they are,” C.J. said. “They’re white.”

      She leaned over and wrapped an arm around his neck. Rubbing her knuckles against the top of his head, she said, “I know they’re white. I was just being funny.”

      The boy giggled and wiggled, but didn’t move away. Her chest tightened in sympathy as she wondered when they had last been hugged by a woman. It couldn’t be easy growing up without a mom.

      She released C.J. He and Danny went to work on the clothes. Ben followed her into the kitchen, and with only minor grumbling began loading the dishwasher. Jill sorted through cereal boxes, figuring out which were empty and which just needed to be put away. There were piles of food. Bread, chips, jars of salsa. A melted carton of ice cream had spilled on, then stuck to, the counter. She wet a cloth and set it over the mess. Maybe by that night it would have loosened up a little.

      From the family room came muffled sounds of a battle being waged. C.J. and Danny were tossing more clothes than they were piling, but the work was getting done. Ben made the flatware dive-bomb the dishwasher. The childish sounds brought back memories of being with her two stepdaughters. She shoved the last box of cereal onto the top pantry shelf and wondered what they were doing now. Did they ever think of her or miss her? She still remembered how hard it had been to lose them. Even after her divorce from Aaron, she’d wanted to see the girls. She’d tried to call them, but their mother said to leave them alone. Jill had quickly found out she didn’t have any legal rights to visitation, and when she’d pushed the matter, Patti and Heather had phoned her directly and told her to stop bothering them. They had a mother, they didn’t need her.

      The words still had the power to wound her. She hadn’t tried to take their mother’s place in their lives. She’d just wanted to love them. Was that so bad? It must be a horrible crime because they’d never forgiven her for it.

      “You got a husband?” Ben asked.

      She spun toward him. He was stacking plates in the bottom of the dishwasher and had his back to her. “No. I’m not married.”

      “Got any kids?”

      “No. Of course not. If I had children, I would be with them.”

      He looked up at her. “Why?”

      “I just would. I wouldn’t—” She had started to say, “leave my children,” but clamped her mouth shut. Craig had told her that the boys’ mother had left them.

      Without thinking, she crossed the room to stand next to him. She reached out to touch him, then had second thoughts. Her hand hung awkwardly between them. At the same moment she moved closer, he started to straighten. A lock of dark hair fell onto his forehead. She reached up and brushed it back. Ben stiffened, but didn’t move away.

      She smiled, then frowned. She was looking up. “My word, you are taller than me!”

      He grinned. Once again, he reminded her of his father. If he could just lose a little weight, he would be a good-looking kid. She wondered what Craig would think if she tried to help Ben with his problem.

      By the time Ben had filled the dishwasher and stacked up the dishes for the next load, she’d found out there was no fresh food in the house. Actually there was very little to eat at all. When she commented on the fact, Ben told her that his father had meant to go shopping that day, but he’d been called to work.

      “He’s on some secret assignment,” he said. “He can’t talk about it.”

      “You must be very proud of him. Not many people get to make a difference every time they go to work.”

      Ben seemed startled by her compliment, then he smiled slowly. “Yeah, I am proud of my dad.” Then the smile faded. Was he thinking of all the times his dad was gone?

      “I don’t suppose he mentioned when he’d be home,” she said.

      Ben shook his head. “There’s phone numbers on the wall.” He pointed to a bulletin board stuck above the telephone.

      Jill walked over and stared at them. There was the number for the police station, a doctor, then a list of men. Travis, Jordan, Kyle and Austin.

      “They’re my uncles,” Ben offered. “Except Austin. He’s not really, but we call him Uncle because we’ve known him forever.”

      It must be nice, she thought, thinking of her own scattered family. She’d been an only child and her parents had split up while she was still in grade school. She’d spent the next seven years being shuffled between one household and the other, never really feeling settled or wanted in either.

      “We’re done!” Danny announced.

      She looked into the family room and saw four mountains of laundry. “That’s got to be twenty loads,” she said in awe.

      “It’ll take forever,” Danny said.

      “Maybe not forever. Maybe just until you’re in college.”

      He giggled at the thought.

      She made the boys soup and sandwiches for lunch. There was just enough food to get them through the day. She didn’t want to go grocery shopping without talking to Craig and finding out what her budget was. While the boys ate, she put in the first load of whites.

      “I can do it loud,” C.J. said, then slurped his soup.

      “That’s nothing,” Ben said, and proceeded to prove his point.

      There was laughter and more slurping. She bit back a smile. These boys were different from her stepdaughters, but she liked them. They were alive and made her feel the same way. That was something she hadn’t enjoyed in a long time.

      After a few minutes, the slurping became annoying. She didn’t want to tell them to just stop. Better to condition them into following the rules. Easier for everyone in the long run.

      “Are you three having a slurping contest?” she asked as she closed the laundry room door behind her.

      “I’m winning,” Danny said.

      “Are you? Oh, that’s too bad. Whoever comes in last gets the largest serving of ice cream for dessert.”

      Silence descended like night at the equator. Instantly and irrevocably. She had to fight back her smile. Ah, the power of dessert. It was a lesson she’d learned well. There was one last carton in the freezer, so she could make good on her promise. She looked at Ben and thought it might be better to get low-fat frozen yogurt next time.

      C.J. glanced up at her. “You tricked us, Jill.”

      “I know.” This time she allowed herself to grin. “Being a grown-up is pretty cool.”

      * * *

      It was nearly midnight when Craig opened the front door and stepped into the house. Jill’s car was still in the driveway. He’d forgotten to give her the garage door opener so she could park her Mustang inside. He’d also forgotten to discuss the details of her salary, give her money for food or talk about days off. He’d left in a hurry because he’d been late. And because he’d been afraid she would change her mind about taking care of the boys. Frankly, he couldn’t have blamed her.

      He closed the door behind him. There was a night-light at the top of the stairs, and the house was quiet. Everyone had survived. Relief swept over him, and with it, guilt. Just because he didn’t know what to do about his boys didn’t mean he could avoid them. He had to take responsibility. Sometimes, though, it was hard being the only one they could depend on.

      He glanced at the living room, then did a double take. Where there had been piles of junk sat only furniture. The dining room was the same. He moved to his right, down the small open hall and glanced into the kitchen. The counters were clear, the sink clean, the trash can empty. Beyond, in the family room, most of the toys and sports equipment had been picked up. The videotapes were off the floor and the few piles of laundry left had been sorted