Mother's Day Miracle and Blessed Baby. Lois Richer
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it was blatantly overdone.
She’d done what she could, of course. But it wasn’t easy with Wade’s orders to stay away ringing in her ears. Last night Pierce’s grumble had torn a sympathetic hole in her heart, and she was determined to repair it one way or another.
Clarissa stepped out her back door and peered across the lane, checking to make sure he wasn’t around. It was too early for him, of course. And he couldn’t know that she always took Wednesday afternoons off, or that his kids’ sitter, Mrs. Anders, had to cancel out for this afternoon.
Feeling like a burglar, she crept across her backyard, managed to yank the gate open and carry her booty across the way without dropping a thing. Jared let her into his yard with a wide smile, his lanky height towering over her.
“Hey, something smells excellent, Clarissa.”
“Why, thank you!” She felt the heat rise in her cheeks. “I hope you enjoy it.” She watched him peering in the bushes. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to find my football. I have practice tonight, and I need it.”
“Oh.” Clarissa nodded at the basket. “If you’ll carry these inside, I’ll help you look.”
Ten minutes later, her shoes muddy from traipsing through the garden, Clarissa found the missing ball behind the shed.
“Wow, thanks, Clarissa!” As he took the ball, Jared glanced up and frowned, his eyes on the kitchen window. “Uh-oh. Tildy’s in the kitchen again.”
“That’s because I said I’d help her with her home ec project. Jared, do you think you could mow the grass? It’s awfully long.” Clarissa wasn’t sure grass this long could be mowed, but it was either try to cut it now or declare the yard a part of the rain forest.
“It’s bad, I know.” Jared’s thin cheeks went a faint pink. “I’m supposed to do it every week, but our mower is broken. Uncle Wade just hasn’t had time to fix it.”
“Go across the alley and get mine, then. Okay?” She waited for his nod, then went inside, confident that he knew what he was doing. After all, she’d been paying him to do her yard work for two weeks now.
Tildy stood in the kitchen, peering into the oven.
“What are you doing, honey?”
“It’s not getting brown,” the young girl told her. “Our home ec teacher said the crust should be golden brown.”
Clarissa smiled as she closed the oven door. “The crust will get brown, just give it time. It’s supposed to bake for at least an hour at a low temperature. Now, what’s the project for tonight?”
“Coleslaw. I got the cabbage, but I don’t know what else to do with it.”
She looked so forlorn Clarissa couldn’t help but smile.
“Okay, coleslaw it is. But we’ll need some room. Let’s do a little cleaning first.” Tildy frowned, but Clarissa wasn’t giving up. Opportunity didn’t knock that often. “If you load the cutlery into the sink, it can soak for a few minutes while we wipe down the counter. Put the glasses in, too.”
She showed the young girl how to organize everything efficiently so that a minimum amount of time was needed to clean.
“See, it doesn’t take that long,” she murmured, half an hour later, surveying the sparkling room with satisfaction. “Just don’t let it get so far next time. Remember the first rule?”
Tildy nodded. “Clean up as you go,” she repeated.
“Good. Now, where’s the cabbage?”
Clarissa managed to show Tildy how to mix the dressing and got her started on slicing the cabbage into tiny strips before Lacey burst into the room, her face a mass of frustration.
“I’ll never ace this dumb old biology,” she muttered. “I don’t even know where to get a frog.”
“By the creek. There are always lots of them in the spring.” Clarissa offered to help her catch one later that evening. “Hi, Pierce,” she greeted as the young boy looked in through the screen door. “What’s the matter?”
“There’s a bird out here that I can’t name. And I have to. It’s important for my collection.”
“Okay, well I’ve got a book—”
The doorbell cut across her response.
“Isn’t anyone going to answer that?”
“I can’t stop now. I’m just getting good at this.” Tildy chewed her bottom lip as she concentrated on the thin strips of cabbage.
“Fine, I’ll get it.” Clarissa walked through the living room and opened the door. She almost groaned aloud. “Rita,” she greeted, calmly enough. “Can I help you?”
“I doubt it. I’m here in response to the petition to adopt these children. I have to check out their home conditions.” Social worker Rita Rotheby surged inside with all the pomp and ceremony of a battleship bound for duty as she tried to sidestep Clarissa. “Excuse me.”
“Uh, Wade isn’t here right now, Rita. Maybe it would be better if you waited until he came home.” Clarissa could picture his face if he walked in right now and found her there.
“Nonsense! Part of the information gathering has to be done when he’s absent. To see how the children are managing.”
Okay, then. It was up to her, Clarissa decided. She’d have to make sure this inspection went well.
“The children are fine. Jared is cutting the lawn.”
“Unsupervised?” Rita scribbled something down.
“I’m here,” Clarissa reminded her and had the satisfaction of seeing the woman erase the words. “Tildy is making coleslaw for her home ec project. Lacey is doing her biology and Pierce is cataloging birds.” She trailed behind the other woman, but stopped short when Rita dragged a finger over the kitchen counter. Surely she hadn’t missed a spot?
“You have dinner already made?” the woman asked Tildy in disbelief.
“Yes, and she’s got all the major food groups covered, too. Isn’t it great?” Clarissa smiled at Tildy, willing her to smile back. “As you can see, Rita, Wade is doing a fine job with these children.”
“Hm. Things do seem to have changed. For the better.” Rita inspected the laundry room and found the machines purring.
Clarissa breathed a thank you that she’d thought to start a couple of loads earlier. She followed Rita back through the house. With all the finesse of a person who has a right to be in someone else’s home, she opened the front door and smiled her best hostess smile. “Everything’s fine, Rita.”
“Well, it does seem to be. I’ll file this and send a copy of it to Mr. Featherhawk. I don’t like to do anything behind anyone’s back.” Rita surged through the door, then stopped. “Oh, there you are. I must tell you, sir, that I found a vast improvement this time. Keep up the good work.” Having given her blessing, Rita bustled down the sidewalk to her car.
Clarissa gulped, gaping at the frowning face of Wade Featherhawk. He glanced at Rita’s disappearing back, then at Clarissa, then at the house.
“It’s nice someone in this town is honest about their intentions.” His voice chewed her out for her insolence. “I thought I asked you to leave us alone.”
Clarissa carefully shut the door behind him, checked to make sure no children were around, then faced him.
“Yes, you did. And I tried to respect your wishes. But I was asked over here to help out. And I was glad to do it.” She held her head up, daring him to question her further. “Now that you’re here, I’ll be on my way.” She turned her back and walked toward the kitchen.
“There’s