She shook her head. “You can’t predict toddlers. They play when they want, and they sleep and eat when they need to. It’s simple.”
To Kenton, following that approach felt like giving in, which was something he wasn’t good at. The book he’d read insisted that a scheduled child became a well-organized and successful adult. And wasn’t that the goal of child-rearing?
“I’m going to keep trying,” he said, knowing he sounded stubborn.
“I’m home tomorrow,” she said, “so you’re free to work on other things.”
“No, I’ll help care for them.” It came out as more of a command than he intended, but it was important to him. He did have several projects he wanted to accomplish during his leave, but they could wait.
“So you can prove a point?” Her eyebrow arched up.
“I think it’s the right thing to do.” The amused expression on her face disappeared at his words. Did she think he was being critical of how she’d raised the kids so far? He was on the verge of apologizing for that when she stood up.
“All right. I’m heading to bed.” She left the room before he could say anything else.
Kenton listened as she went up the stairs. Before going to the guest room she was using, she paused outside the room the twins were in, and the door quietly opened and closed. After a minute, her soft footsteps continued down the hall. She was good with the kids, but it seemed to him that things could be better, be easier for her.
He reached for one of the quick-glance guides sitting on the coffee table and studied it. He’d need to make some revisions based on what he’d learned that day. He pulled a pen from his pocket and got to work.
7
“What’s this?” Mia asked, peering at the legal-size piece of paper hanging on the refrigerator door. Since she had the day off, she’d slept late, which was unusual for her but was probably due to worrying half the night about the handsome near-stranger whose house she was inhabiting and who had very definite ideas about things. She’d woken with a start and dashed down the hall to find the girls were already up and out of their cribs. After grabbing a robe, she’d gone to the kitchen to see what was happening.
“The improved schedule,” Kenton said. He was wiping down counters while the twins ate. Both girls seemed surprisingly content. She knew from experience that never lasted long.
“Really?” she whispered as her brain absorbed the incredible detail. Every minute of the day appeared to be planned—and not just for the girls. For her, Kenton, and even Eliot. What kind of nonsense was this? She’d been willing to play along to a point, but this was ridiculous. “What if I don’t need a bathroom break at one?”
“I thought you might like that after lunch,” he said, a look of concern on his face.
“I see.” Mia kept looking through the schedule all the way until bedtime. At least the portion of the evening left after the girls were down was untouched, except for Eliot’s final walk of the day. Mia was tempted to pencil something in. Something a little outrageous. Kissing on the sofa or wine on the moonlit back deck. What would Mr. By-the-Book do then?
She had enjoyed his hug the other day, even if she’d shocked him by asking for it. After a brief hesitation, he’d taken her in his arms, and it had been the safest she’d felt in months. Which was an odd thought, since she usually never felt unsafe—even after her sister’s death when she’d become an instant parent, or even in the wake of the apartment fire.
But she wasn’t going to trade her freedom to choose how she went through her day for safety.
“Maybe we should start small,” she suggested. “We could just use the same nap schedule as the day care, for instance.”
“Not enough,” he said. “We need routine in everything we do.”
“Including Eliot.” She pointed to the three times a day when he got his walks.
“Yep, he needs to be taken out on a schedule.”
“Why? He may be a little untrained,” she said, ignoring the side-eyed look he shot her, “but he’s never had an accident in the house. And I do take him out morning, afternoon, and evening, just not at precisely the same time every day. I don’t see why that matters.”
“It does,” Kenton insisted. “And it’s the way I like things.”
Mia bit back her retort, reminding herself that she and her nieces were guests in his home. His mother had been generous to her, and he hadn’t tossed her out when he’d arrived back from his deployment. However, she was stuck there because of something in his world, something she had nothing to do with and no control over. Being homeless and in danger was a double whammy, but it left her in no position to argue.
“Fine. We’ll follow your schedule today,” she conceded, “and tomorrow they can go back to day care.”
“Nope, that’s not happening,” he said before she even finished speaking.
“But that is their routine, and I thought routine was all-important,” she argued. The girls were hers in every sense of the word. Being dictated to about their care was getting on her nerves. His need to schedule and desire to have control might have seemed a bit of a lark to her at first. What the heck? She could use a little break from being a single mom, but she wasn’t giving total control over to him.
“They’ll be safer here with me.” He returned the cleaner he’d been using on the counters to an upper cabinet.
“The day care has an excellent safety rating… Oh, that’s not what you meant,” she said, her annoyance dissipating slightly. He was referring to the danger hanging over them. “Wouldn’t it be better to have them out of the house?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. His stance was wide, a warrior ready to do battle. “I can’t guarantee their safety unless I’m with them. I wish you weren’t working, either, but I don’t suppose you’d consider quitting.”
“Of course not,” she said. She wouldn’t quit the bakery even if she were financially able to. The type of work and the people there appealed to her more than any other job she’d had.
“That’s what I figured,” he said, “but you’ve got to let me do my best by the girls.”
She huffed out a sigh. He had their best interests at heart, and she didn’t mean to be difficult, but this was a mess, a damn mess. The situation was complicated, to say the least. But it wouldn’t last forever. Her apartment would be ready to live in soon enough, and her life would be hers again, provided the threat was taken care of.
“Are you sure you can do it?” she asked, not meaning to insult him, but he’d had a tough time of it the day before. Still, she’d never felt that she needed to interfere for the girls’ safety. She’d been close to doing so when Emma developed a fascination for the outlets that she’d never had before, but Kenton had handled that. His care had been competent, and, she reasoned, he was a highly trained military officer. That had to mean something.
“I managed yesterday,” he said, sounding confident. “Today will be better.”
She nodded her approval, since she was unable to come up with an objection that she thought might work. The girls would be fine, and Kenton would figure out that time management skills were lost on toddlers. No one would be hurt as a result.