Free His Motherless Little Twins by Dianne Drake

couldn’t was rebelling. Hence the attraction, and the shivers. It was simply a personal little insurrection.
    Good explanation, she decided as she handed large spoons to each of the girls. She turned back to insist that Eric step away, but surprisingly he already had. He hadn’t gone all the way to the dining room, but he was in the doorway, and the look on his face… It was distant. He was staring out the back window, but if she’d had a paycheck coming in, she’d bet every penny of it he wasn’t seeing anything outside.
    â€œHow much?” one of the girls said insistently.
    â€œWhat?” she asked.
    â€œHow much cookie dough?”
    Pippa had a chunk on her spoon that approximated the amount for six cookies, which snapped Dinah back into the baking lesson. “Not quite that much,” she instructed, showing the girls the proper amount. Then she showed them the appropriate spacing of the dough on the pan, and stepped away while they worked to get the unbaked cookies lined up in perfect little rows. Once, when they were halfway through, she looked back at Eric, who was still there. Physically. But his eyes were still so distant.
    Propped there against the doorframe, he looked…sad. She studied him for a moment, trying not to be obvious. But something caught her eye. Something missing. So, when had he removed his wedding ring? “No, Paige. You can’t squeeze them that close together. They have to have room to expand, so spread them out a little more. Just look at the first row I did, and copy that.”
    The girls chattered away as they finished putting the dough on the pan, while Dinah supervised. Then, as Dinah, not the girls, placed the cookies in the oven, Eric withdrew from the kitchen altogether. She thought about going after him, asking him if there was anything she could do to help, but her two little assistant cooks weren’t about to budge from the kitchen while the timer was counting down the minutes, and she wasn’t going to leave them alone in there. So she sat down at the kitchen table and fielded another battery of questions from the girls.
    â€œWho was the one who decided how long a minute was?” Pippa asked.
    â€œAnd how did he know it was a minute and not an hour, if no one had ever had a minute before?” Paige chimed in.
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    â€œThe girls are great,” Dinah said. She sat a plate of warm cookies on the table on the patio outside. Eric was leaningagainst the deck rail outside in the backyard, this time looking into the kitchen through the window. “You’ve done an amazing job with them. And if you don’t mind, they want me to take them shopping for…well, let’s just say, five-year-old unmentionables.”
    â€œUnmentionables?” He arched his eyebrows, even though the eyes underneath them were still distracted.
    â€œWell, panties. Apparently Aunt Janice buys boring panties and your daughters want…”
    Eric blinked himself back into the conversation. “They want new panties? You don’t have to,” he said.
    â€œBut I don’t mind. And I sort of promised them manicures and hair appointments.”
    â€œManicures? They’re five!”
    Dinah laughed. “But a girl is never too young to have her hair and fingernails done.” Her eyes wanted to trail down to his ring finger, but she resisted. “And Pippa and Paige informed me they’ve never had a manicure. So…”
    â€œThey’re growing up.” He sighed heavily.
    â€œA little bit.”
    â€œAnd I don’t have a clue.”
    â€œWell, that’s probably true. But it’s curable, because I have an idea your daughters will always let you know exactly what they need, and when. Like I said, they’re amazing little girls. Full of life.”
    â€œLike their mother.” He cleared his throat and continued. “The girls and I…we’re going to move,” he said, out of the