Free Daddy Next Door by Judy Christenberry

mugs.
    After she filled them, Jennifer returned to the table and set his in front of him before she sat down across from him.
    “You did a great job on the swing set, Nick. In spite of my rude behavior, I really appreciate you spending the afternoon doing that. Especially because of what you did for Annie. I couldn’t believe that she’d rather help you than play with the other girls.”
    “One of my sisters was like that. She was fascinated with putting things together. Still is. She has her own power tools and does all the repairs around the house. Her husband is hopeless at it.”
    “Really?”
    “Yeah. She threatens to teach classes to women who are married to men like Joe.”
    “It sounds like a good idea.”
    “Yeah. So any time you need something fixed, just knock on my door.”
    “Oh, no, I couldn’t! I already have a plumber and an electrician that I usually use.”
    “Well, maybe in an emergency.”
    “Yes, that—that’s very nice of you.”
    Then they sat there, neither having anything to say.
    Finally he asked a question that was none of his business, but he’d wondered. “Have you ever contacted your half brother to see if he’s interested in getting together?”
    “No. I assumed my father told him my mother and I were not the kind of women he would be interested in.”
    “How old was he when your father died?”
    “I think he was twelve.”
    “How long ago was that?”
    “Seven years.”
    “And you’ve never contacted him in all that time?” he asked in surprise.
    “No. I thought about it, but…I doubt a nineteen-year-old would care about a half sister.” She took a sip of her coffee, then blurted, “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
    “I see. Okay, I’d better go so you can get to bed early. That’s what you want, isn’t it? Not to have me around any longer than you have to?”
    She appeared shocked by his words.
    Without saying anything else, he stood and walked to the door, calling out good-night over his shoulder.
     
    S HUTTING AND LOCKING THE door, Jennifer rested her forehead against the cool wood. She felt terrible. She’d hardly been the perfect hostess tonight. Hardly been a decent human being, trying to sneak out of her half of the bargain. Had Nick asked too much—dinner and a movie—in return for setting up the swing set?
    She lightly rapped her forehead against the door. Maybe it’d knock some sense into her head. What was wrong with her?
    A small voice behind her called her name.
    “Steffi, what are you doing up? Did I wake you?”
    “No, it’s not your fault, Jennifer.” She sounded so mature, well beyond her years.
    “What is it, then? Can’t sleep?”
    “I—I had a dream. A nightmare, actually.” She lowered her head and Jennifer thought she heard a sniffle. Before she could reach out to her, Steffi ran to her and wrapped her arms around her hips.
    “What is it, sweetie? You can tell me.”
    Steffi let the tears come. She whispered, “I dreamt of them again. My parents…in the accident.”
    Jennifer knelt down and took the child into her arms, cradling her head and wiping her tears. Fresh ones wet her cheek with each sob. “Steffi, it’s okay—”
    The girl raised her red eyes to her. “No, it’s not! You don’t understand!” Her voice rose and Jennifer feared she’d become hysterical. What should she do?
    She carried Steffi to the sofa and sat down. Wiping her long blond hair from her eyes, she took the girl’scheeks in her palms. When she saw the sadness that racked Steffi, she couldn’t stop her own tears from falling. “Why don’t you tell me about it, sweetie? What’s in your dream?”
    Steffi nodded. “It’s dark, past our bedtime…but I sneak out of bed and walk down the road. I see Mommy and Daddy’s car heading toward home….” Her voice hitched. “Then a big truck crashes into them from out of nowhere. I’m screaming for them and I run to their car….
    “That part of the dream is always the same. I run