Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
I’d met their dad at the house before we’d come to the bar, and it was immediately apparent where Mabel had inherited her wide smile and her welcoming nature. George Buckley had greeted me like I was already one of the family, inviting me to stay for dinner, insisting I sit down with an iced tea and tell him about myself, showing me a photo album from the time he and his wife had visited New York City.
Mabel had already told him about me last night, but he’d also gotten an earful from his friends Gus and Larry, who’d stopped by after their usual Sunday breakfast at Moe’s—George would have been at the diner too, he said, but he’d had to take Mabel to the airport. But what did I think of Moe’s? How did I like Cherry Tree Harbor so far? Had I tasted the fudge? Seen the lighthouse? Had dinner at The Pier Inn? Taken a ride on the old ferry?
If Austin hadn’t been standing there tapping his toes and checking his watch, I could have sat there sipping iced tea and chatting with the sweet old man all evening. After a year of being in the company of people who had no interest in me outside of grooming me to become the future Mrs. Neil Vanderhoof, it had been lovely to sit across from someone genuinely curious about my life. He was like the father or grandfather I wished I’d had.
“I understand,” I said quietly. “Your dad is wonderful.”
When Austin looked up and met my eyes, goosebumps swept down my arms. He grabbed the bag from me. “Thanks. Should we keep going with the schedule?”
“Sure.” I went back to the table and perched on the stool again, listening with one ear while he went through the rest of the daily routine—quiet time with a book and a non-sugary snack after camp. Outside playtime was fine, but no wandering more than three houses in any direction. Library visits on Tuesday. Water the plants on Wednesdays (Owen) and Sundays (Adelaide). Kids have to bring down their dirty clothes and sort it all into baskets in the laundry room on Fridays. Laundry should be done on Saturday, including sheets and towels. Kids could help fold—Owen was good at towels and pillowcases, Adelaide liked matching everyone’s socks—and should put everything away immediately.
“You can do your laundry with theirs or separately,” he said. “Washer and dryer is in the basement.”
“Got it.”
“Please make sure they check off chores on their charts. It’s how they earn their allowance.”
“Will do.”
“Grocery shopping can be done any day, but there’s a list of things to keep stocked that I can text you. As for dinners, we usually eat around six o’clock in the summer. If I’m working late, eat without me.”
“Okay. And what should I make?”
Exhaling, he straightened up and rubbed his shoulder. “An effort.”
I laughed. “Deal.”
ELEVEN
austin
Two weeks later, I had to admit Veronica was a better nanny than I thought she’d be.
The kids were on time for camp every day. Chores were checked off the charts. Library books were returned on time, plants did not die, and no one suffered any life-threatening injuries. She was, as advertised, not a good cook, but nobody starved—although the hockey pucks she called hamburgers and the soggy, salty casserole did have me momentarily considering a hunger strike.
But the kids didn’t seem to care one bit. When I came in to grab dinner before heading out to the workshop each evening, they were full of stories about the fun things they’d done that day—yoga at the beach, dance routines in the backyard, chalk art on the driveway, karaoke contests on the front porch. I’d gotten two calls from parents in the neighborhood wanting to know where I’d found the awesome new babysitter their kids had raved about.
“Through my sister,” was all I said. The entire town was buzzing about the bride who’d jilted a Vanderhoof at the altar and taken off running, and as much as I liked the story, I wasn’t sure I wanted it going around that I’d hired her.
The Fourth of July came around, and I took the day off work so we could all go out on Xander’s boat. The weather was gorgeous, and we had a fantastic time, water-skiing and tubing and cruising around on the lake. I did my best to keep my eyes off her body in the little black bikini she wore, but I’m positive she caught me staring more than once—and adjusting myself in my swim trunks afterward.
On her second Saturday with us, it rained, and even though it was technically her day off, she took the kids to a movie. Later that afternoon, the twins came running from the house into the garage, shouting, “Look at our tattoos, Dad!” I glanced up from the table I was working on to see both of my kids will full sleeves.