Four Reasons For Fatherhood. Muriel Jensen

interest the collection of men.

      Paulette wore black tights, a baggy black sweater and hiking boots with black socks. Her luxuriant blond hair had been pulled into a ponytail on one side of her head, giving her a frivolous look very much at odds with her television savvy.

      Chris wore green velour sweats that highlighted rather than concealed her diminutive proportions. Bleached blond hair was cut short around a wide-eyed gamine face.

      All three men turned and stared.

      Susan made introductions, noting with a hint of disappointment that now that she had four little boys following her everywhere, men would never look at her the way these men studied her friends. Then she admitted to herself with bleak candor that they’d never looked at her that way before.

      Aaron turned to Susan his eyes alight with amusement. “This is your idea of a moving crew?” he asked.

      “They’re my friends,” she replied, a little annoyed with the question. “And they’re busy. I went for loyalty, not muscle.”

      “I beg your pardon,” Chris interrupted, walking up to Aaron, her eyes filled with amusement, also, but mingled with pride. “I run a fitness center.”

      Aaron gave Chris a smile that caused the smallest flutter in Susan’s chest. She chided herself for her absurdity. The smile hadn’t even been directed at her.

      “But furniture has to be carried, not run on,” he said pointing toward the stairs. “Why don’t you direct, and we’ll be the muscle?” He looked over her head at Paulette. “Or did you want to direct, too?”

      Paulette laughed. “No, no. Chris can direct. I’m just here to look pretty.”

      Micah smiled at her. “You’re doing a wonderful job.”

      Paulette tucked her arm in his as they followed Chris and Ross up the stairs.

      Aaron crossed to the table and looked down into his nephews’ still-troubled little faces. “I bet you’re thinking that moving’s going to be really awful,” he said.

      Paul and George nodded. Ringo continued to pick cereal out of his bowl and eat it with great concentration.

      “We don’t want to go,” John said. “Everything’s…different.”

      Aaron picked George up, sat in his chair, then perched the boy on his knee. “But everything’s different whether you stay here, or go to Susan’s. And Susan’s got more room than you have here, and a much bigger yard.”

      “She doesn’t have a pony,” George reported.

      “Or a dog,” Paul added.

      Aaron’s expression said that he agreed those were severe failings. “But don’t you think it’d be cool to have a big swing set with a slide and monkey bars and stuff like that?”

      Paul and George looked interested.

      “I’m going to order one this afternoon,” Aaron said with an apologetic glance at Susan. “And a sandbox for Ringo.”

      Susan presumed the apology was for not having asked her first. Usually his presumptions annoyed her, but she understood that he was desperate to cheer the boys up, just as she was.

      “I can build a shelter over it,” she contributed, “so that you can even use it when it rains.”

      “We have to go to a different school,” John complained.

      Susan nodded. “Yes, you do.” She wanted to add that he’d make friends in no time, but she knew he didn’t want to hear platitudes.

      “I hate that,” he said.

      Aaron nodded. “That’s tough. But we’ll put up a hoop at Susan’s—” again that apologetic look “—and get a basketball so you can practice for the team. Maybe a baseball and a glove, too. For spring practice.”

      Susan remembered the price of the new palladian windows she’d put in the back of her house, which looked onto the woods, then dismissed it at the sight of the thin smile on John’s face. It was fragile, but it was there.

      “There’s probably not even a park around,” John said.

      Aha! Finally! A chance to one-up him. “I have three acres,” Susan said. “If there’s no park and you get a team together, you can play at our place.”

      She saw the light go on in his eyes.

      “Okay,” he said simply, then concentrated on his cereal.

      “I want a ball and glove, too!” Paul demanded.

      “Me, too!” George said.

      Aaron nodded. “Balls and gloves for everybody,” he promised.

      “All right!” Paul exclaimed. “Then we’ll have a team!”

      Chapter Three

      They were moved in by lunchtime, and after the promised pizza for the boys and the moving crew, Aaron took John, Paul and George with him to shop for playground equipment. Ross and Micah went along in an advisory capacity, and Paulette and Chris stayed to help Susan remake beds, replace drawers and redistribute toys.

      “What do you know about Micah Steadwell?” Paulette asked.

      Susan stood on top of a stool, putting away the box of groceries she’d brought from Becky’s kitchen. Paulette handed things up to her, and Chris sat on a rug on the hardwood floor playing ball with Ringo.

      “Not much,” Susan replied. “Just that he owns a nightclub, and that he and Aaron were good friends all through high school.”

      “You don’t know if he was with the rock band the Knights?”

      Susan frowned down a her. Ten years ago the Knights had been one of those music groups whose sound and lyrics struck an empathetic chord with young people. Their reputation for hard living, however, made parents mistrust them.

      “I don’t know,” she said. “Aaron didn’t say anything about that.”

      “I think I recognize his face.” Paulette handed up a cardboard tub of hot-chocolate mix. “But they all had wild makeup so it’s hard to tell. And he seems so…I don’t know, mature, I guess.”

      “Ten years can make a big difference in someone’s life,” Chris offered. In her distraction, Ringo’s large colorful ball hit her in the face. She pretended to glower at the little boy, who laughed with delight. “Especially in your twenties. How old is he now?”

      “I’d guess middle thirties.” Paulette handed up a box of crackers. “He did tell me he’s single and that he’s pretty busy with the club. I’d take that as a warning that he doesn’t have time to date but he flirted with me all morning. I don’t know what to make of him.”

      “Maybe you’ll just have to see what develops.” Chris reached out to catch Ringo’s throw. “I’m not usually one for subtlety but if he has a wild past, that’s not a very safe bet today.”

      Paulette nodded, clearly lost in thought.

      “But you,” Chris said to Susan, “have no doubt what you have on your hands.”

      “Four little boys leave little to wonder about.”

      “I’m not talking about the boys.” Chris lifted Ringo into her arms and carried him to the counter, where Paulette and Susan worked. “I’m talking about that most dangerous and appealing of God’s creatures, the macho male who is too good at heart for you to be upset by his take-charge tactics.”

      Susan rapped a knuckle lightly on Paulette’s head. She came out of her thoughts with a start to hand up a cake mix.

      “He does annoy me,” Susan corrected, putting the box away, “and I don’t find that