of chaos and destruction was revealed. A lamp was upside down on the floor, along with pillows and books and a tumbled table and chair set. Toys were everywhere, most of them covered with baby powder that someone had been squirting out of the container. And on the other side of the room were two little blond boys, crowding into a window they could barely reach. They saw the adults coming for them, looked at each other and shrieked—and then they very quickly shoved one fat fluffy pillow and then one large plastic game of Hungry Hungry Hippos over the sill. The hippos could be heard hitting the bricks of the patio below.
“What are you doing?” Jill cried, dashing in as one child reached for a small music toy. She grabbed him, swung him up in her arms and held him close.
“You are such a bad boy!” she said, but she was laughing with relief at the same time. They seemed to be okay. No broken bones. No blood. No dead cat.
Connor pulled up the other boy with one arm while he slammed the window shut with the other. He looked at Jill and shook his head. “Wow,” was all he could say. Then he thought of something else. “Oh. Sorry about the door. I thought …”
“You thought right,” she said, flashing him a look of pure relief and happiness. Her babies were safe and right now that was all that mattered to her. “I would have had a heart attack if I’d had to wait any longer.”
Mrs. Mulberry was blubbering behind them and they both turned, each carrying a child, to stare at her.
“I’m so sorry,” she was saying tearfully. “But when they locked me out …”
“Okay, start at the beginning,” Jill told her, trying to keep her temper in check and hush her baby, who was saying, “Mamamama” over and over in her ear. “What exactly happened?”
The older woman sniffled and put a handkerchief to her nose. “I … I don’t really know. It all began so well. They were perfect angels.”
She smiled at them tearfully and they grinned back at her. Jill shook her head. It was as though they knew exactly what they’d done and were ready to do it again if they got the chance.
“They were so good,” Mrs. Mulberry was saying, “I’m afraid I let them stay up longer than I should have. Finally I put them to bed and went downstairs.” She shook her head as though she still couldn’t believe what happened next. “I was reading a magazine on the couch when something just went plummeting by the bay window. I thought it was my imagination at first. Then something else went shooting past and I got up and went outside to look at what was going on. And there were toys and bits of bedding just lying there in the grass. I looked up but I couldn’t see anything. It was very eerie. Almost scary. I couldn’t figure out what on earth was happening.”
“Oh, sweetie boys,” Jill muttered, holding one closely to her. “You must be good for the babysitter. Remember?”
“When I started to go back in the house,” the older lady went on, “one of these very same adorable children was at the front door. As I started to come closer, he grinned at me and he …” She had to stop to take a shaky breath. “He just smiled. I realized what might happen and I called out. I said, ‘No! Wait!’ But just as I reached the door, he slammed it shut. It was locked. He locked me out of the house!”
Jill was frowning. “What are you talking about? Who locked you out of the house?”
She pointed at Timmy who was cuddled close in Jill’s arms. “He did.”
Jill shook her head as though to clear it. He’s only eighteen months old. “That’s impossible. He doesn’t know how to lock doors.”
Mrs. Mulberry drew herself up. “Oh, yes he does,” she insisted.
Jill looked into Timmy’s innocent face. Could her baby have done that? He smiled and said, “Mamamama.” No way.
“I couldn’t get in,” Mrs Mulberry went on. “I was panicking. I didn’t know what I was going to do.” Tears filled her eyes again.
Jill stared at her in disbelief and Connor stepped forward, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We believe you, Mrs. Mulberry,” he said calmly. “Just finish your story. We want to know it all.”
She tried to give him a grateful smile and went on. “I was racing around, trying all the doors, getting more and more insane with fear. Finally I got the idea to look for a key. I must have turned over twenty flower pots before I found it. Once I got back into the house, I realized they were up here in the bedroom, but when I called to them, they locked the bedroom door.”
She sighed heavily, her head falling forward on her chest. “I thought I would go out of my mind. I tried to call you but I couldn’t do it. I thought I ought to call the police, but I was shaking so badly …” She shuddered, remembering. “And then you finally came home.”
Jill met Connor’s gaze and bit her lip, turning to lay Timmy down in his crib. He was giving her a warning glance, as if to say, “No major damage here. Give her a break.”
For some reason, instead of letting it annoy her, she felt a surge of relief. Yes, give her a break. Dear soul, she didn’t mean any harm, and since nothing had really happened, there was no reason to make things worse. In fact, both boys were already drifting off to sleep. And why not? They’d had a busy night so far.
Turning, she smiled at the older woman. “Thank goodness I got back when I did,” she said as lightly as she could manage. “Well, everything’s alright now. If you’ll wait downstairs, I’ll just put these two down and …”
Connor gave her a grin and a wink and put down the already sleeping Tanner into his crib as though he knew what he was doing, which surprised her. But her mind was on her babies, and she looked down lovingly at them as they slept. For just a moment, she’d been so scared.…
What would she do if anything happened to either one of them? She couldn’t let herself think about that. That was a place she didn’t want to go.
Connor watched her. He was pretty sure he knew what she was thinking about. Anything happening to her kids would just about destroy her. He’d seen her face when she first realized she was losing Brad. He remembered that pain almost as if it had been his own. And losing these little ones would be ten times worse.
He drove Mrs. Mulberry home and when he got back, all was quiet. The lights that had blazed out across the landscape were doused and a more muted atmosphere prevailed. The house seemed to be at peace.
Except for one thing—the sound of sniffles coming from the kitchen where Jill was sitting at the table with her hands wrapped around a cup of coffee.
“Hey,” he said, sliding in beside her on the bench seat. “You okay?”
She turned her huge, dark, tragic eyes toward him.
“I leave the house for just a few hours—leave the boys for more than ten minutes—the first time in a year. And chaos takes over.” She searched his gaze for answers. “Is that really not allowed? Am I chained to this place, this life, forever? Do I not dare leave … ever?”
He stared down at her. He wanted to make a joke, make her smile, get her out of this mood, but he saw real desperation in her eyes and he couldn’t make light of that.
“Hey.” He brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “It’s not forever. Things change quickly for kids. Don’t let it get you down. In a month, it will be different.”
She stared up at him. How could he possibly know that? And yet, somehow, she saw the wisdom in what he’d said. She shook her head and smiled. “Connor, why didn’t you come back sooner? I love your smile.”
He gave her another one, but deep down, he groaned. This was exactly why he had to get out of here as soon as he could. He slumped down lower in the seat and tried to think of something else reassuring to say, but his mind wouldn’t let go of what she’d just said to him.
I love your smile.
Pretty