CHAPTER 11
Arwyn
Z aki took the girls with him to practice Saturday morning after their ballet class, and the house was so quiet I almost didn’t know what to do with myself. Penny wasn’t due until ten for her first fitting, so I decided to strip the beds and wash the sheets and towels. I turned the television on to the classical music channel and donned my nineteenth-century housekeeping apron.
Chores were more fun in character.
The washer and dryer were downstairs, so I removed the sheets off my bed and grabbed the bathroom and kitchen towels for the first load. I headed upstairs next and paused on the landing. The girls’ play space was immaculate. Every toy was on a shelf or neatly arranged in the window seat. The chairs were pushed in at the table, and there wasn’t anything on the floor for me to pick up or step on. We’d cleaned up last night—and every night—before bed, but I didn’t expect this level of tidiness after all the noise I’d heard while they were getting ready this morning.
Their room was just as neat. As I pulled back the comforter and blanket to remove the sheets and shook the pillows out of their cases, I thought about how easy these first two weeks had been. Sure, we were busy, but it was a good kind of busy. We’d settled into a routine and had even had some impromptu ballet practices to sharpen their skills for their first lesson since their recital in Denver last spring. With my experience, I was able to adjust and critique their positions and movements.
I gathered the linens in my arms and added the towels from their bathroom and walked to my dad’s—now Zaki’s—room. The door was open, so I dropped the girls’ linens outside the doorway and crossed to the bed. I hoped he didn’t mind that I was intruding.
I repeated the sequence of pulling back the comforter and removing the sheets and pillowcases. When I bundled them into my arms, I caught the faint scents of mint and eucalyptus mixed with something I couldn’t place, but it felt masculine. Aftershave? Beard balm? Whatever soap he was using, it smelled really nice, and familiar. Did he always smell like this and I just hadn’t noticed?
I quickly entered his bathroom, grabbed the used towels from the hamper, and hurried out of the room, revisiting the urge to snoop for the scent sources.
I wasn’t a creeper.
On the floor, I rolled all the sheets and towels into the smallest bundle I could manage and carried them down the stairs. This amount of bedding and towels would have to be split into two loads, and I still had my own clothes and the girls’ playclothes to wash.
I’d have to alter my laundry schedule. As much as I loved living in the past, an entire day devoted to laundry wasn’t my idea of a good time.
Zaki had set up a routine with the dry cleaner to drop by and collect the girls’ uniforms Thursday night so they’d have freshly laundered and pressed clothes for school and I wouldn’t have to fuss with ironing. I’d told him I didn’t mind, but after the first week, it hit me how time-consuming it was to take care of children full-time, on top of home care and oneself. It gave me a new respect for stay-at-home parents and those that had to balance working outside the home and most especially those that worked from home and were interrupted on a constant basis.
I was folding the kitchen towels from the first load when Penny arrived. I quickly finished the last two at the speed of lightning and stuffed the upstairs sheets into the dryer just as she rang the bell.
“Coming!” I set the dial, pressed the button, and ran to the front door. Spying the jar of doggie biscuits on the counter, I plucked out two, and with the same firm but cute commanding words that the girls taught me, I told Laffy and Vennie to go to their beds by the fireplace. A little more than amazed that the dogs had stopped and took notice, I called, “Be right there, Penny!" and followed them to their beds.
I rewarded them with treats and hurried back to the front door, sliding the bolt out of place and clicking the thumb turn to the left to unlatch the mechanism. “Sorry, I didn’t want the dogs to scare the baby?—”
I pulled open the door and grinned, surprised to see Monty behind Penny, wearing baby Melody on his chest in an elaborately tied cloth inside his open jacket.
“I hope you don’t mind I brought the baby whisperer with me,” Penny said, stepping inside and pulling off her scarf. “I couldn’t get her to stop crying this morning, and neither could Xavier. He had to leave for practice, so I called Tasha to see if she could come stay with her while I came to my fitting, but she was still out delivering meals, so she sent Monty to meet me here.”
“It’s no problem.” I looked outside as I shut the door behind them. Sure enough, Monty’s truck was parked behind her crossover. “I can take your jackets.”
Penny hung hers on an empty hook on the wall in the vestibule. “We can hang our own. I love your apron and all, but you’re not a servant.”
“Really, I don’t mind. You’re my guests,” I insisted.
Penny gently extracted the baby from Monty’s wrap, but the moment she was in her mother’s arms, her nose twitched and she began to cry. Penny bounced her and cooed in a gentle tone while Monty removed his coat and hat, but Melody’s wails only grew louder.
Monty reached for the baby, and Penny reluctantly handed her over. Once Melody was tucked back into the wrap, her crying ceased and she closed her eyes.
“I’m a terrible mother,” Penny murmured. “I can’t even comfort my own baby.”
“Aw, Pen, you know that’s not true,” Monty said. “Remember what Nana Booboo said? That I’m a walking furnace? She’s probably just cold. Or teething.”
“Her gums are a little swollen.” Penny sighed and wiped her eyes. “And I’m always cold.” She turned to me. “Sorry to complain. I’m still trying to figure all of this out.”
“It’s no problem,” I assured her. “Your gown is hanging on the back of my bedroom door. You can change in there, and then we’ll go into the front room to make adjustments and discuss embellishments.”
“Embellishments, huh?” Monty interrupted. “Like sequins and flair?”
“Something like that.” I wasn’t about to launch into all the possible embellishments of the Regency era with a guy whose only experience with design was deciding how many rhinestones to add to his cheerleading pants. “Make yourself at home,” I told him and led Penny through the kitchen to my bedroom.
I would regret that invitation later.
When Penny opened the door and stepped out of my bedroom in the dress, I gasped. The gown was stunning, and it fit her like a glove. “Pen!” I whispered.
“You’ve outdone yourself,” she praised. “Just needs a hem.”
“Turn for me?” I asked. She complied, and I took a closer look.
“I’d be the envy of all the ladies at a Bridgerton ball,” she boasted. “I can’t believe I get to wear this! I’ve always wanted a Wynsome Design. This is stunning, Wynnie.”
“There’s more to come. Let me pin that hem, and we’ll talk about beading and appliques.”
Penny looked down at the dress. “But it’s so pretty like this. And beading—if you mean hand-beading?” I nodded. “That’s so expensive. Really, this is amazing as it is.”
I shook my head. “I was instructed by Tasha to spare no expense. Right, Monty?” I called toward the front room.
He didn’t answer. Weird.
“Okay,” Penny said. “But know that it’s more than I dreamed already.”
I grinned. “Thank you.”
It was great to have Nellie, June, my table, equipment, and supplies back in the front room. I directed Penny to stand on a small stepladder I pulled out from behind my dresser of notions. We chatted as I pinned the hem of the gown’s satin and sheer overlay, which covered the center panel. The short, puffed sleeves also had a matching sheer overlay ending in a casing that I’d strung a ribbon through to tie in a bow.
“All right. Go change and bring me back the dress. We’ll drape it on June here”—I pointed to the dress form—“and play with the accents.”
Penny grinned. “Be back in a jif!”
A thump above my head made me jump. So that’s where Monty went. Another thump, followed by a thunk.
Then barking. Lots of barking.
“Monty! You okay up there?” I called up the stairs. “You aren’t traumatizing the dogs, are you?”
“Fine!” he called back. “Just—uh—doing backflips to make Melody laugh!”
He and Tasha coached an all-star Worlds team at the sportsplex, and Monty prided himself on being the best tumbler in the world. “Well, don’t crash through the floor!” I yelled back. “Those boards are old!”
“Ten-four!”
I shook my head and checked my phone. Zaki had texted a picture of the girls and Ryleigh sitting on the bleachers with some other kids and a young woman who held a tablet. A few rows up, in the shadows and a little out of focus, was a group of women around my age, who I assumed were their moms. I recognized Kami sitting with Brenna Trotter and Taylor Brewer—both from Palmer City—holding little ones of various ages and pointing toward the ice.
The caption read, “Sources tell me the girls told Ryleigh about your hockey lesson and now they’re plotting a group lesson for the Wags. Our social media manager, Mags, is all over it!”
I didn’t know if I was supposed to text back or not, so I put my phone back on the charger and made a mental note to mention it in conversation when they returned.
Penny joined me in the front room, and we draped the dress gently over June. I adjusted the width of the form to the correct fit.
I waved her over to the table next to the sewing machine where I’d laid out various samples of laced and beaded appliques, lengths of lace and beads, and embroidered ribbons, and a few sketches of ideas I’d had for the center panel.
“These are all so pretty,” Penny breathed. “I love this sketch of the harp embroidery with the bronze thread. How would you even do that on such fine material as the sheer overlay?”
“It would be set into the dress panel, and it wouldn’t be too difficult. I located a harp stamp, and I’d use fabric chalk to lay out the pattern. Then it’s just a matter of embroidering the stitching over the lines. The sheer is thin enough and has a sheen to it that will enhance and bring out the metallic thread underneath.”
“You make it sound easy.”
“It’s not too hard. It took me years of trying different methods to figure out stitch techniques that worked for designs like this, which fabrics to use, and which methods I enjoyed. This will be time-consuming but also therapeutic. It gives me a chance to sit quietly and relax.”
“And you can do that with the girls and dogs?” She quickly snapped her mouth shut. “I’m sorry. I just can’t seem to get anything done with the baby at home.”
“I understand. I used to nanny for Shanna, remember? It was tough with one, and when the second came along, it was near impossible to do anything except take care of them. But they grew and became more independent, and there were nap times. Melody won’t be a baby forever, Penny. Before you can blink, she’ll be in kindergarten like Isla and Amelie and able to entertain herself while you work—or play your harp.”
“That’s what K-Kami k-keeps telling me. B-b-but it’s … hard.” She sniffled and took a long breath in and out. “Sorry for breaking down again. I feel so helpless and unproductive. And then my b-big b-brute of a b-brother-in-law swoops in and calms her storm in s-seconds.” She sighed.
I wrapped my arms around her, concerned to hear the return of her stutter. “Accept the help, Penny. And don’t doubt for a minute how incredible of a mom you are.”
She gave me a squeeze. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now let’s pick adornments for the bodice. You’re going to be belle of the ball!”
She grinned. “Nah. But maybe the gal of the gala.”
I laughed. “The gal of the gala, then!”
We were just finishing up when Monty came down the stairs with Melody and the dogs. Their nails clitter-clattered softly down the newly-polished hardwood steps as they raced each other to the bottom.
“She’s napped, been changed, and had a snack of those puffy things that melt in her mouth.” Monty oriented Melody so she could see Penny, and the baby reached her little sweater-clad arms toward her mother. Monty pulled her from her wrapping and handed her to Penny.
“Sweet girl.” Penny bounced her in her arms and kissed her head. “You’re a lifesaver, Uncle Monty.”
“Yeah, I know.” He grinned. “I’m going to head out if you don’t need me anymore. I dropped Nana Booboo off at the Coffee Loft on my way here, and I think she’s had enough time to terrorize the Riveras and their customers for one day. And we’re taking Tasha out for a birthday lunch.”
Penny laughed. “Go get her. And thank you again for your help. Uncle of the Year, for sure.”
“Did you expect anything less?” He raised an eyebrow and grinned.
I rolled my eyes. Classic Monty.
Once they were gone, I folded the now-dry upstairs sheets, put the towels into the dryer, and topped off the dogs’ water and food so they’d be distracted while I stamped the pattern of harps onto the dress at my worktable.
It took only a short time to stamp the fabric. Pleased with the arrangement, I gathered all the materials I’d need for this part of the process, including the gown, and took them to my room. I didn’t want to take any chances that the dogs might suddenly learn to climb their new gate or displace it.
As I sat in my great-grandmother’s comfy armchair, I thought about the picture Zaki had sent me. Most of my friends that were my age had paired up, and several were starting families or already had them. It hadn’t bothered me in the least that I wasn’t in a relationship or in that stage of my life. I was happy for them, and I trusted in God’s plan and His timing. I’d always believed that if that was meant for me, I’d be ready if and when the right man came along.
I hadn’t really ever put myself out there, though. Should I start dating? I didn’t know the first thing about that. Sure, I’d been asked out plenty of times. Dances in high school, a few dates here and there when I was taking business classes at the local university. But no one I ever wanted a second date with. So I’d retreated into myself and my home and worked on building my business.
But seeing Penny with Melody, Tasha’s pregnancy beginning to show, and people all around me becoming parents, I was feeling … left out? Maybe it was time to take Shanna up on her offer to set me up with her husband’s best friend. I’d met him at their wedding, years ago, and he hadn’t made much of an impression, nor did he seem interested in me. But he was a doctor now and too busy to go out looking for a soulmate.
Who knew? Maybe the seven-years-older versions of us were different. I’d certainly changed a lot since then. Not so much in appearance, but I had more confidence now and was mostly happy with who I was as a person. I had my faults and struggles—like going out in public—but didn’t everyone have a thing they were working on?
I thought about all the pros and cons as I hand-stitched the harps and lost track of time. I didn’t look up until Zaki and the girls pulled in. They came in the house and ran up the stairs so fast, I didn’t even have time to tie off my stitch and greet them.
I was arranging the gown on June, whom I’d moved into my bedroom, and scrutinizing my progress when Zaki’s shave-and-a-haircut knock on my door made me jump.
“Come in,” I called, crouching down to fix a loose pin at the hem.
“Am I disturbing you?” Zaki leaned against the doorframe in a fitted Dri-Fit team T-shirt that strained the fabric over his biceps. His tattooed biceps. And tattooed left forearm…
“In more ways than one,” I muttered. Oh my. He usually wore a hoodie in the house; I’d never seen his … arms.
They were nice arms. Strong arms. Inked with an artsy vine and his girls’ names and the shapes of the places he’d lived weaved in with woodsy landscapes and team logos and a hockey stick and …
Stop staring.
Well, I couldn’t know for sure if they were strong arms, and since I didn’t have any plans of testing that theory, I would just happily keep assuming so in my head.
“Sorry, what?” he asked.
I stood up and tapped my own bicep. “Your shirt is ill-fitting. Perhaps a size up would fit better? I don’t think I could alter that one.” Or perhaps I could turn down the heat and you can cover up so you don’t distract me, I wanted to add.
He barked a laugh as my cheeks burned, but I think I covered up the fact that I was staring—and impressed—at his, er, strength. Yes, strength. That was it. I drew in a long breath through my nose and let it out slowly between my lips.
“So … how was your morning?” I asked. “Do the girls need anything?”
He shook his head. “Just the sheets for their bed. We can handle making the beds, but I might need some assistance keeping them out of harm’s way when I flip the furniture back to its original positions.”
Now it was my turn to ask. “I’m sorry, what?”
“The nightstands and chair in my room are upside down, the box spring is on top of the mattress, and the shirts in the closet are hanging inside out. My cable remote and toilet paper are AWOL, and all my toiletries have been swapped with the girls’. Either you’re stronger than you look or you were invaded by a prankster.”
I slapped my palm to my forehead. “Monty!”
“I figured. And since I promised you a prank-free workplace, I take full responsibility and assure you the dormant prankster in Zaki Marsch has been awoken and unlocked and is ready to seek revenge for all the atrocities that have been committed since I filled his truck with birdseed last May.”
Birdseed? I didn’t know how to respond to that. “Um, okay?”
His mouth spread into a full-faced boyish grin that made the corners of his eyes crinkle.
Laced with mischief, it was the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen.
Oh, lordy, I could not crush on this guy. He was my boss, the team troublemaker—heck, he’d literally invited trouble into my house. Well, I guessed I was partly to blame for that, but?—
No.
I would not become the cliché nanny who fell for her hot pro-athlete boss.
“I’m sorry, and I’ll definitely help to put things to rights,” I promised. “And Monty is no longer allowed in here unsupervised.”
He laughed again as I charged out of the room and up the stairs. I pointed to the Lincoln Log cabin on the girls’ table. “That wasn’t there this morning. Check the tin for missing items.”
Isla ran over to the shelf and yanked off the green plastic cover. “Here’s your remote, Daddy! And toilet paper!”
Zaki made a game of putting everything back together and making the beds with the girls. Once everything was put back the way it was supposed to be, I texted Shanna.
Is your husband’s BFF still single? I think I might want to meet him again.
Yes! Finally! He is. Come in tomorrow at noon. He just moved here from Elk Creek Falls and stops in every Sunday after church for a root beer float and a chat with Dylan.
Really? Which church?
St. Mary’s.
Huh. I hadn’t seen him there. But I hadn’t been to church in a few weeks, so I easily could’ve missed him. Plus, he probably looked different now. Seven years, after all. Does he wear his scrubs to church? I typed.
Nope, he changes here before their chat.
Right. It was silly to think a doctor would wear scrubs to Catholic Mass. The dress code probably forbade it, anyway.
Okay, see you then. I swallowed, and my gut felt strange.
Can’t wait!