Free Kids Is A 4-Letter Word by Stephanie Bond Page B

Claire.
    “Now for your dad’s room.” Jo’s stomach squirmed annoyingly.
    “Make it purple,” Claire said, her confidence growing.
    “Hmm.” Jo pondered the color, then brightened in agreement. “Purple it is—that’s the color for royalty, you know.”
    Claire beamed, and Jo decided the little girl was quite pretty when she was happy. With a slight pang, Jo wondered how often that was. “We’ll throw in cream and black for accent colors,” Jo added enthusiastically. “I’m sure your dad will like it.” She paused and leaned toward Claire. “You’re very good with colors.”
    Claire’s eyes dipped, then she glanced back up at Jo beneath her lashes. “I like to paint.” She poked at her glasses unnecessarily.
    Delighted, Jo asked, “You like to paint pictures?”
    She nodded. “My mom painted pretty pictures, but Daddy has them all packed away.”
    Jo felt another tug for Claire’s loss. Jamie’s memory of his mother would be dim at best, and Billy would never know what he missed. But Claire remembered and still nursed the pain. Smiling, Jo reached forward to place her hand over thegirl’s small one. “Promise me you’ll paint a picture someday for my office.”
    Claire brightened. “I promise.”
    They moved on to the rooms on the first floor and before long had selected taupe and white for the living room, brown and gold for John’s study, and coral and gray for the den. All that remained was the kitchen, and Jo turned to a palette of beautiful clear greens. “Since the bar will allow both rooms to be seen at once, green in the kitchen will be a perfect complement to the den’s coral,” she said, patting her notepad in finality.
    But Claire’s face wrinkled into a dark frown. “Red.”
    “Red with coral?” Jo asked, perplexed.
    “The kitchen has to be red, with strawberries,” she said, crossing her arms resolutely. “It’s what Mom always wanted.”
    Unknowingly, she’d hit an exposed nerve, but Jo knew when to back down. She glanced at her watch. “We’ll have to leave a few loose ends. Right now, we need to get going.” But almost another hour had passed by the time she herded up the boys, combed everyone’s hair, tamed one red cowlick, washed two sticky faces and knelt on the floor to change one diaper.
    Jo shook her head and clucked as she bent over the toddler sprawled patiently on the floor, naked from the waist down. “Billy, if you’re old enough to get a diaper, bring it to me and ask for a change, you’re plenty old enough to go to the potty.”
    Billy’s eyes turned dark. “Bad potty,” he said ominously.
    She sat back on her heels and glanced around the room. “Where’s Jamie?” she asked Claire.
    Suddenly a car horn sounded in the driveway. Her car horn. Fear stabbed Jo’s heart. “Oh my God, he can’t be in my car!” She raced to the door, threw it open and tore down the steps, nearly tripping in her haste.
    Jamie was not only sitting in the driver’s seat, elevated by two thick catalogs, but he had the engine running, the windowsdown, the stereo blasting, and was sporting Jo’s sunglasses. But by some miracle, the car hadn’t moved from its spot in the driveway. She glanced at the busy street at the end of the driveway and shuddered at what could have happened. Some mother she would make, all right. No kid would last a month in her care.
    “Can I drive, Jo?” Jamie asked excitedly, turning the steering wheel sharply left, then right.
    Make that a week—she’d kill them with her own hands.
    “Whoa, he really needs a time-out now,” Claire breathed.
    Jo was so scared and angry, she didn’t trust herself to speak. Her hands were shaking and her heart thudded in her chest. Finally, her feet propelled her to the car, where she reached in and yanked the keys from the ignition.
    “Hey!” Jamie said in a loud, cross voice.
    “Don’t you ‘hey’ me, young man,” Jo said, her voice low and trembling. “Do you have any idea how much danger you