Mommy For A Minute. Judy Christenberry

to it,” he said.

      Lauren wondered what was going on. They’d been having dinner on Friday nights ever since he’d moved out of the house and gotten his own place. He’d finished school in June and started work immediately with a software company. Next, he’d found an apartment he could afford and left home. He’d said he needed to be independent. And besides, it was time Lauren had some time to herself.

      “Good,” Lauren said, waiting for him to tell her the purpose of his call. Something was going on.

      “Uh, what have you been doing today?”

      Okay, stall tactics. “I’ve been interviewing a man to turn my third bedroom into a home office. He’s going to put in shelving.”

      “Do you need me to come check him out?”

      Lauren couldn’t hold back a grin. At the office, everyone would’ve been surprised that her brothers would think she needed their help for such a simple thing. “No, thanks, James, but I’m okay with him.”

      “It might be good for him to know you’ve got brothers who can protect you.”

      “I’ll let him know. I have lots of pictures around the place, you know.”

      “Oh, yeah.”

      There was a prolonged silence. Lauren asked, “Is there anything in particular you want me to make for Friday night?”

      “For dinner, you mean? Well, I think I’d like your chicken spaghetti. I haven’t had it in a while.”

      “Sure. I’ll be glad to make it.”

      “And maybe your carrot cake.”

      “All right.”

      “And, um, I thought I might bring a friend, too. Would that be all right?”

      Aha! Finally they’d gotten to the point of the conversation. “Of course. I’d love to have some of your friends. Are you bringing Ronny or Doug?” she asked, keeping the smile from her voice.

      “Uh, no, I thought I’d bring, uh, Cheryl.”

      “Who is that? A new friend?”

      “Yeah. She has an apartment near me. I, uh, I’m afraid she doesn’t eat enough. I thought your cooking would be good for her.”

      “That sounds like a good idea. I’ll see you Friday evening.”

      Lauren hung up the phone, a smile on her lips. She’d played the role of mother for her six brothers and sisters since she was twelve. None of them had married, however. Had she done something wrong, that none of her siblings had found anyone to marry? And what about yourself? asked an inner voice. Where’s your special someone?

      JACK SERVED his daughter her dinner, putting macaroni and cheese on her plate, peas and carrots, and some chicken cut into tiny pieces. “There. Your dinner is ready, Ally. I expect you to eat your vegetables,” he said as he helped her into her chair.

      “I will, Daddy. I’m hungry.”

      “Good.”

      He sat down beside her, his plate filled with the same food. He’d learned how to cook properly when he’d found himself with a small child who needed good nutrition.

      “I liked that mommy today,” Ally said as she worked at scooping up the peas and carrots.

      Jack had just taken a bite of his own vegetables, but her words had him spitting out food in all directions.

      He hurriedly wiped his mouth and cleaned up the mess he’d made. “Uh, who are you talking about, Ally?”

      “That mommy. The one who made me lunch.”

      “She’s not a mommy.”

      “I know she’s not my mommy.” They had had this discussion several times over the past year. His daughter wanted to know what had happened to her mommy since everyone else at child care had a mommy. “But I think she’s someone’s mommy.”

      “No, Ally, she’s not someone’s mommy. She lives alone.”

      Ally frowned and stared at her father. “But she cut my sandwich into soldiers, and she gave me cookies.”

      “Yes, she did, but she’s not someone’s mommy, and it’s important not to call her a mommy.”

      “Would it make her cry?”

      Jack couldn’t imagine Lauren McNabb crying. She was supposed to be tough as nails. In the office, where she was known as The Shark, they would laugh at even the suggestion that she would cry about anything. “No, she wouldn’t cry, but it might make her mad.”

      “Oh. Am I going to work with you tomorrow?”

      “No, I’m calling Mrs. Smith after dinner. I think she’ll keep you tomorrow.”

      “I want to go with you.”

      “No. Eat your dinner. It’s almost time for your bath.”

      “I think she’ll miss me tomorrow.”

      “Doesn’t matter. You’re going to Mrs. Smith’s tomorrow. We’re not having a discussion about it.”

      He hurriedly cleaned the dishes before he took his child to the bathroom for a quick bath. Then, looking like an angel in her nightgown, she hugged his neck and got under the covers. After she said her prayers, she whispered, “Please let me go with you tomorrow?”

      “No, honey. You need to play with other children and color pictures. You’ll have fun tomorrow at Mrs. Smith’s.”

      Once he had her settled, he went to the phone. He’d tried several daycare centers before they came home, but they were all full. So he was going to call Mrs. Smith, who’d taken care of Ally when she was a baby.

      “Mrs. Smith? It’s Jack Mason. I’ve run into a problem with child care and I wondered if you could—”

      “Mr. Mason, I can’t take care of children anymore. I was in a car accident and I can barely get around.”

      “I’m sorry to hear that. Uh, could you recommend some place where I could leave Ally?”

      “No, not really. None of my friends keep children. What happened to the place you were taking her?”

      “They left a child on that little bus and he died. The city shut it down.”

      “That’s terrible. Don’t take Ally back there.”

      “No, I won’t.”

      “Well, sorry I can’t help.”

      “Yeah, me, too.”

      Jack hung up the phone, at a loss. He had no more ideas of what to do with Ally except take her back to work with him for one more day.

      He feared Miss McNabb would be pleased.

      Chapter Two

      Lauren had cleaned the house twice, redone her grocery list three times and thought about redecorating her living room. What else was she supposed to do with her time?

      She’d even spent some time with her neighbor across the hall last night. Sherry was a nice woman, but they had little in common other than living across the hall from each other in the fourplex on Yellow Rose Lane. Sherry had seen Jack Mason come in yesterday morning, however, and she had questions.

      “Who was that hunk who came over yesterday?”

      “You must mean Jack Mason. He’s going to build some shelves in my new study.”

      “My husband wouldn’t let him in the front door, looking the way he does. Good thing you’re not married.”

      “He’s a handsome man, but he’s supposed to be quite talented as a carpenter.”