“I’m guessing you haven’t had a chance to speak with your mom yet?”
“No.” He narrowed his eyes. “Why?”
“Oh, she said she was going to get in touch with you.” Mia had counted on Margaret explaining the situation to her son. Kenton’s confusion and anger made more sense now. “Should we go into the living room to talk?” At his nod, she led the way, feeling odd as she walked through his house as if she were the hostess. “Sorry about the mess,” she said with a quick glance around. When she’d moved in, the house had been immaculate, not a thing out of place. With two little kids, it was impossible to keep it that way. A basket of toys was turned over on the hardwood floor, a sippy cup sat on the cherrywood coffee table, and a discarded sweatshirt was draped on the sofa. The place wasn’t ready for a House Beautiful photo shoot.
“I don’t care about that,” he said, but his shoulders tensed. He most certainly did care. She could see that as plain as day. “I want to know why you appear to live here and why there’s a kid in my house.”
“Two kids, actually.” She hesitated, trying to decide the best way to contextualize her presence. “I guess it all started six months ago, when my sister and brother-in-law passed away in a car accident.” Mia was proud of herself for getting the sentence out so calmly. Speaking of Caroline and Matt’s deaths was still so hard. Her sister had been her one true friend, the rock that never shifted in her life, and she was taken away in the blink of an eye.
“I’m sorry,” he said, gesturing for her to sit on the couch while he took a seat by the fireplace.
“They were hit from the side by a truck. The police told me they died instantly.” She hoped that was the case, since she couldn’t stand the thought of them suffering. “Fortunately, the girls were at the sitter’s.” The mix of emotions on the day of the accident had nearly killed her. She’d been so grieved about her sister but overjoyed Emma and Ava were okay.
“So you became their guardian?”
“Right. I don’t have kids of my own. I mean… I’m not married or anything, so there was a learning curve. Parenting twins is tough.” Mia had been a doting aunt since the girls were born, but that hadn’t prepared her for being their full-time care provider. Her life had taken a radical shift.
“I’ll bet. Now, about the house?” he prompted.
“I’m getting there,” she said as another cry reached her from upstairs. She rose, unsure whether to dash off or stay and finish the story. She wanted him to understand, but she wasn’t making progress toward that goal. “Anyway, about a month ago my apartment building caught fire—” A scream that climbed upward on the decibel meter came from Emma, and Mia jumped into motion. “I need to get her.”
“But—” His phone’s ring cut him off.
“Is that your mother?” Mia moved toward the stairs.
He shot her a look as he pulled his phone from his pocket and took a glance at the screen. “Yeah.”
“Answer it, please. She’ll explain.” With that, Mia sprinted up the steps and headed toward the twins’ room. “It’s okay, baby,” she said softly when she got to Emma’s crib. The girl was sitting up, her eyes wide and her mouth open to yell again. Mia sucked in a breath. The twins looked so much like their mother, with their golden hair and brown eyes. Ava seemed to have her mother’s personality, calm and thoughtful. Ava was a watcher. She wasn’t docile, but she was patient.
“You’re not, though, are you?” Mia spoke to Emma in a soft voice as she lifted her from the crib. “It’s all ‘Look at me, look at me’ for you.” After a quick peek to make sure Ava was still sleeping, Mia made her way back downstairs with Emma.
“All right, Mom, I get it,” Kenton was saying into his phone. His broad back was turned, so he didn’t see Mia enter the room. “They had nowhere else to go. Must have been a hell of a fire.”
Mia shivered as she thought back to that night. The blare of the fire alarm had woken her at just past three. Normally, she wasn’t someone who panicked, but as soon as she’d sat up, she’d smelled smoke. She’d flown out of bed, grabbing the first items of clothing she could find, and gone to the twins. Smoke swirled through her apartment, and she’d feared she wouldn’t be able to make it down the stairs from the third floor. She’d wrapped both of them in damp towels and hoisted one girl on each hip before flinging her door open and racing for the stairwell with Eliot on her heels.
Once she’d gotten outside, Mia had hugged the babies to her and sat in the grass near her car, wondering what she was going to do, as the fire trucks arrived. The fire, pushed by a strong wind, raced through the building, damaging every unit. She kept repeating to herself that they were safe. Emma, Ava, Eliot—her little family was okay. Homeless and frightened but unharmed.
The local Red Cross had given her shelter for the night and food, but it was when she went to the bakery where she worked the following morning that she found her guardian angel in the form of Margaret Fitzpatrick. Margaret, who owned the clothing boutique next door to the bakery, had listened to the story of the fire and immediately suggested that Mia move into her son’s home. Margaret had even helped Mia and the girls settle in, all the while insisting that Kenton would be deployed for several months yet.
But he’d arrived home early. Mia bounced Emma on her knee and tuned in to the conversation Kenton was having with his mother. Would he toss them out? She wouldn’t blame him if he did. She rapidly considered her options. The company that owned her apartment building had another in the next town. But it was a forty-minute drive, and that building didn’t allow dogs. What would she do with Eliot? And the long drive would really complicate her life.
“Why didn’t you have them stay with you?” Kenton listened for a minute before responding. “That’s right. I forgot you were remodeling.” More silence on his end. “I didn’t expect to be back yet, either, but I am.” Kenton rubbed the back of his head as he spoke, making Mia realize how tired he must be and how he must have been looking forward to relaxing in his lovely, empty house.
Margaret hadn’t filled in all the details about her son, but she’d said enough for Mia to know he was Special Forces and was often deployed all over the world. She wondered what kind of life that was and how it meshed with the traditional home he’d purchased. Somehow, it didn’t seem to fit.
“Yeah, Mom, I’m fine. I’ll come to dinner soon,” he said in the tone of a man who wanted to end the conversation. “Tell Dad I said hello, and I’ll see you.”
Kenton hung up and turned, catching sight of her and Emma. She guessed by the hitch of his eyebrows that people didn’t usually sneak up on him. Probably a sign of his exhaustion.
“This is Emma,” she said and raised the toddler’s hand in a wave. He studied the girl before cautiously lifting his hand to return her gesture.
“Cute kid,” he said. “Are they identical?”
“Technically, yes, but they’re easy to tell apart,” she said. He nodded, and she noted the dark circles under his eyes. Time to wrap this up. “I guess your mom explained about the fire. She was sure you wouldn’t be home, or I’d have never…”