Daddy Next Door

“Who did you find?” the blonde demanded.

Nick was finding the situation amusing until two other little girls appeared behind the adult. He’d forgotten three daughters? “Uh, I don’t think—”

“Missy, let go of—of whoever you are!” The blonde looked at him for the first time.

“Nick Barry.”

“Okay. Missy, let go of Nick Barry. He is not your daddy!”

“Whew! That’s a relief,” Nick said, grinning.

“This is not a laughing matter!” the young woman said sternly.

“Why can’t he be our daddy?” Missy asked, still not letting him go.

“Because I don’t even know who he is!”

“But we need a daddy!” Missy protested, her tone getting more indignant.

Nick looked down at the charmer hanging on to his ankle. He set down the two suitcases he’d been carrying and then bent down and picked her up. “Sweetheart, I’m sure wherever your daddy is, he’ll come soon. I can’t believe he’d ever forget you.”

Suddenly one of the older girls burst into tears and, sobbing, ran back into the apartment across from him.

“Was it something I said?” Nick asked, frowning.

The woman stepped forward and took Missy into her arms. “Why are you here?” she asked him, looking around. “And how did you get in?”

Ah. She’d finally started asking important questions. “I’m subletting this apartment.”

“Grace’s apartment? She can only sublet it to a relative and what happened to her? The last time I saw her she was doing fine!”

“She’s moved into an assisted-living facility. And I’m her nephew.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll deal with you later. Now I have to—”

“Jennifer, the stove is exploding!” another young voice called out from inside the woman’s apartment.

“What? Get out of the kitchen! I’m coming!”

Seemingly without thinking, she set Missy down and ran back into the apartment, frantic.

Missy grinned up at him. “Won’t you be our daddy?”

“Uh, no, but I will see if I can help your mommy. Come on.” He scooped up the little girl and entered the apartment. Missy showed him the way to the kitchen.

The blonde was on her way out of the room. “What are you doing in here?”

“You forgot something.” He nodded toward the child in his arms.

“Just put her down. I’ve got to see about Steffi!” Then, like a whirlwind, she moved on to another room.

“Who is Steffi?” he asked Missy once he’d set her on her feet.

“She’s my big sister,” Missy said solemnly. “You made her cry.”

“I did? How did I do that?”

Missy’s big brown eyes sobered. “She remembers our real daddy. And he’s dead.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“What’s dead mean?”

Nick stared at the precocious child. “Um, I think you need to ask your mommy.”

“She’s dead, too.” The little girl was beginning to tear up and Nick felt his heart breaking for her and her sisters. He tried to think of something to distract her.

“What was exploding in the kitchen?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Jennifer was making sketti for us.”

“Sketti? What’s that?”

“You know, long, skinny things with red stuff on it. It’s my favorite!”

With Missy’s description and from what he could see in the kitchen, he figured out their mother was making them spaghetti. The stove was turned off under the big pan of water and pasta. Nick was an expert on spaghetti, by virtue of the hundreds of pounds he’d eaten just in his adult life. He checked the spaghetti and determined it still needed to cook awhile. The sauce, in a smaller pot, was already getting cold. He put Missy in a chair at a nearby table and told her not to get down.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want you to get burned.”

“Oh.” The little girl seemed satisfied with that logic.

He turned on the burners and stirred the sauce as he watched the water begin to boil.

“I didn’t know daddies could cook,” Missy commented from the table.

“Some daddies can,” he muttered, concentrating on what he was doing.

“Jennifer says we don’t need no daddy.”

“Who is Jennifer?” he asked, expecting to be told Jennifer was one of her sisters.

“She’s our new mommy,” Missy said with satisfaction.

“Your new mommy?”

“Yes. She’s our new mommy today.”