Read Online Practice Makes Perfect (Single Father) by Janice Macdonald - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Janice Macdonald
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“I lived here before you did.”
Undeterred, the cat followed her down the stairs but then largely ignored her for the next half hour as she sorted through the stack of boxes piled against one wall. She’d just opened one that contained some of the tools she’d collected during the year or so when she was deciding whether to go against family tradition and become a geologist instead of a physician when she heard Rose on the stairs. The cat rose from its noisy slumber to greet her.
“Where did he come from?” Sarah nodded in the cat’s direction.
“He was down on the ferry dock, spitting at the tourists. Fred at the chamber of commerce picked him up. They were going to take him to the pound. But—” she picked up the cat “—he has a sort of rascally charm, don’t you think?”
“No.” She eyed Rose, who was cradling the cat like a baby. “What’s his name?”
“Deanna.”
“Deanna?”
“I know, I know.” Rose buried her face in the cat’s fur. “But before him, I had this sweet kitten that I just adored and her name was Deanna. Unfortunately, she ran off with the ginger tom that lived next door. Never saw either of them again. When this one came along, it seemed easier to give him the same name. When he misbehaves though, I just call him Cat.”
“I never thought of you as a cat person.” Sarah hauled a box down from the shelf and sat on the floor to open it.
“What are you looking for?” Rose asked.
“Collecting things for a fossil-hunting expedition.” She looked under an old ski sweater she vaguely remembered from her childhood. “Eureka. A rock hammer!” She held it up to show Rose. “Remember that?” She dug into the box again. “And here’s my ice pick and sledgehammer.”
“Lovely,” Rose said. “Shall I pack you some freeze-dried meals? Maybe a little caribou jerky.”
“Would you?” Sarah stood and wiped her hands down the sides of her jeans. “I’m sure it would go down well with Matthew’s daughter.”
“Spoiled child, that one,” Rose said tartly. “Elizabeth brought her in for acne treatment. Quite the little princess.”
Sarah absorbed that piece of information, wondered whether Matthew contributed to the spoiling. What had Elizabeth said about her being a daddy’s girl? A vague unease settled in, clouding the prospect of the outing. Maybe she wasn’t ready for Matthew, the doting daddy. Matthew and Elizabeth’s daughter, flesh-and-blood proof that ultimately Matthew had chosen Elizabeth. Even if it hadn’t worked out.
“I said,” Rose’s voice filled the basement, “what about Matthew’s daughter?”
“Oh.” Sarah shook her head, clearing her thoughts. “Well, we’re all going to Agate Beach.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s there.” As she grabbed the sledgehammer, she knocked over an adjacent box. The silver sandals she’d worn when she married Ted fell out. “Oh, no.” She picked up the left one, threw it back in the box, tossed the other one in, sealed the box and hauled it back onto the shelf. “Why do you keep all this stuff anyway?”
“Why did you send it back, anyway?” Rose mimicked her tone. “I’d assumed it had some significance to you.” She rubbed her hands together. “Well, I’m starving and it’s freezing down here.” She started up the stairs, Sarah following her. In the kitchen, she watched as Rose opened a can and dumped the contents into a bowl, which she then put in the microwave.
Sara picked up the empty can. “SpaghettiOs? You didn’t tell me you were having a dinner party.”
“Deanna enjoys them,” Rose said. “And so do I.”
“Yeah, why slave over a hot stove?” Sarah crossed her eyes at Deanna and the cat darted under the table.
“So.” Rose pulled out a chair and sat down. “Matthew won’t play. Now what?”
Sarah leaned against the sink. “Could you please not use that tone of voice? I am not ten and Matthew and I are not talking about building camps in the woods. To answer
Undeterred, the cat followed her down the stairs but then largely ignored her for the next half hour as she sorted through the stack of boxes piled against one wall. She’d just opened one that contained some of the tools she’d collected during the year or so when she was deciding whether to go against family tradition and become a geologist instead of a physician when she heard Rose on the stairs. The cat rose from its noisy slumber to greet her.
“Where did he come from?” Sarah nodded in the cat’s direction.
“He was down on the ferry dock, spitting at the tourists. Fred at the chamber of commerce picked him up. They were going to take him to the pound. But—” she picked up the cat “—he has a sort of rascally charm, don’t you think?”
“No.” She eyed Rose, who was cradling the cat like a baby. “What’s his name?”
“Deanna.”
“Deanna?”
“I know, I know.” Rose buried her face in the cat’s fur. “But before him, I had this sweet kitten that I just adored and her name was Deanna. Unfortunately, she ran off with the ginger tom that lived next door. Never saw either of them again. When this one came along, it seemed easier to give him the same name. When he misbehaves though, I just call him Cat.”
“I never thought of you as a cat person.” Sarah hauled a box down from the shelf and sat on the floor to open it.
“What are you looking for?” Rose asked.
“Collecting things for a fossil-hunting expedition.” She looked under an old ski sweater she vaguely remembered from her childhood. “Eureka. A rock hammer!” She held it up to show Rose. “Remember that?” She dug into the box again. “And here’s my ice pick and sledgehammer.”
“Lovely,” Rose said. “Shall I pack you some freeze-dried meals? Maybe a little caribou jerky.”
“Would you?” Sarah stood and wiped her hands down the sides of her jeans. “I’m sure it would go down well with Matthew’s daughter.”
“Spoiled child, that one,” Rose said tartly. “Elizabeth brought her in for acne treatment. Quite the little princess.”
Sarah absorbed that piece of information, wondered whether Matthew contributed to the spoiling. What had Elizabeth said about her being a daddy’s girl? A vague unease settled in, clouding the prospect of the outing. Maybe she wasn’t ready for Matthew, the doting daddy. Matthew and Elizabeth’s daughter, flesh-and-blood proof that ultimately Matthew had chosen Elizabeth. Even if it hadn’t worked out.
“I said,” Rose’s voice filled the basement, “what about Matthew’s daughter?”
“Oh.” Sarah shook her head, clearing her thoughts. “Well, we’re all going to Agate Beach.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s there.” As she grabbed the sledgehammer, she knocked over an adjacent box. The silver sandals she’d worn when she married Ted fell out. “Oh, no.” She picked up the left one, threw it back in the box, tossed the other one in, sealed the box and hauled it back onto the shelf. “Why do you keep all this stuff anyway?”
“Why did you send it back, anyway?” Rose mimicked her tone. “I’d assumed it had some significance to you.” She rubbed her hands together. “Well, I’m starving and it’s freezing down here.” She started up the stairs, Sarah following her. In the kitchen, she watched as Rose opened a can and dumped the contents into a bowl, which she then put in the microwave.
Sara picked up the empty can. “SpaghettiOs? You didn’t tell me you were having a dinner party.”
“Deanna enjoys them,” Rose said. “And so do I.”
“Yeah, why slave over a hot stove?” Sarah crossed her eyes at Deanna and the cat darted under the table.
“So.” Rose pulled out a chair and sat down. “Matthew won’t play. Now what?”
Sarah leaned against the sink. “Could you please not use that tone of voice? I am not ten and Matthew and I are not talking about building camps in the woods. To answer
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