Free Patchwork Family by Judy Christenberry Page B

about her and Quinn’s older brother Seth.
    “I’m fine. Seth won’t let me do too much. And his family…if I even hint at wanting something, they all jump up at once. A woman could get used to this.”
    Molly blinked several times. “Even Quinn? I thought he wasn’t interested in children.”
    “I don’t know about that, but he’s been very nice to me.” Jenna looked at Molly. “Didn’t I hear he was doing some work for you?”
    “Um, he helped out while Amanda was out of town.”
    “Ah. Well, I’ve got to run, but if there’s anything else you need done, just let me know. I should be picking up your order for stationery next week.”
    “Great. I appreciate all the work.”
    “I appreciate the business,” Jenna replied with a smile.
    After Jenna left, Molly vacuumed the rug in theentryway, polished the banister on the stairway and swept the hardwood floors.
    Then she broke for lunch. While she ate, she made her shopping list for Sara’s party. She’d received specific instructions from her child about what to serve. Frankly, hot dogs didn’t enchant Molly. Nor could she demonstrate her cooking skills with such mundane fare.
    But the party wasn’t about her. It was for Sara, and she’d requested hot dogs.
    Then Molly made a second shopping list for the weekend. She planned to have the house spotless by Friday evening. If she kept the party contained to the kitchen and breakfast area, that shouldn’t be too difficult.
    Saturday she’d do all the cooking, except for the last-minute preparations. Sunday she’d be relaxed and ready to greet her neighbors.
    After lunch, she continued to polish and scrub. Sara would be brought by the car pool she and several other mothers had organized. Tuesdays and Fridays were her days to drive, so today she could remain at home.
    At three-fifteen the doorbell rang. Checking her watch, she wondered if school had let out early. Hurrying to the door, she swung it open, her gaze fixed on where Sara’s head would be.
    Then traveled up the dark overcoat until it reached Quinn’s face. She hadn’t seen him since their embarrassing encounter last Friday.
    And she had no idea why he was here now.
    She’d discussed her case with Amanda by phone. Amanda assured her Quinn had handled everything.
    “What— I mean, hello, Mr. Spencer.”
    “Hello, Molly.”
    When he stood there, saying nothing else, she asked, “Did you want to come in?” She couldn’t imagine why, but politeness demanded that she offer.
    With a smile he went past her, already removing his overcoat. He planned to stay?
    “I hope you don’t mind,” he said with a smile. “I was in the neighborhood and I thought I’d check on arrangements for Sunday. I feel sort of responsible since it was my idea.”
    She stared at him. “But you offered it as a suggestion. It was my decision to go ahead with it,” she assured him, frowning. “You have no reason to feel responsible.”
    He shrugged. “Maybe not. But I hear a lot of people are coming. I thought I should warn you you might have a crowd.”
    “But I haven’t even advertised it yet. How could you hear—”
    He chuckled, almost a rusty tone, as if he didn’t often laugh. It was an entrancing sound. “This is a small town. I certainly mentioned it to my father. It seems he’s visiting with Lydia a lot. He discussed it with her. She, of course, told the ladies at Worthington House, who in turn told—”
    “I get the picture.” Molly nodded. “Well, I appreciate your letting me know.”
    After a pause, he said, “I wouldn’t turn down a cup of coffee, if you have any made. It’s been a long day.”
    Molly was horrified by her lapse in good manners. The man threw her off track every time. “Of course. Do you mind the kitchen?”
    “I love your kitchen,” he assured her with a smile.“You don’t happen to need any muffins tasted, do you?”
    She couldn’t hold back a return smile. “No, but you could test the oatmeal-raisin cookies. I put