Mom Over Miami - By Annie Jones Page 0,13

baby juice. Or came off looking like a slob in front of the DIY sisters when they stopped to find me doing my best Pippi Longstocking in pink fuzzy slippers on skunk-stink day. You want me to do something that the whole town can get a big chuckle out of.” She poked him in the ribs, then spread her hands out as if to better visualize the whole scene. “Me and my minivan with an old, beat-up rocking horse strapped to the roof, riding through town like a one-woman parade!”

He covered his mouth and laughed.

She couldn’t recall ever having felt so worried, so tired, so anxious and so happy all in the expanse of a few minutes. Well, not since the last time Tessa had put her through it.

Children.

How had she ever lived without them?

“I didn’t think how it would look.” Sam spun off some more towels. “It just seemed like it would work.”

“You know what? It probably would.” Hannah gathered the dirty, dripping towels into one large lump. She scooped them up in both hands, got to her feet and headed off to deposit them in the bucket. “That’s what I like about you, kid. You are a source of almost boundless imagination!”

His eyes lit up.

“Boundless imagination! Did you hear that, Jacqui? It’s almost as if Hannah heard us coming!”

“Jacqui! Cydney!” Hannah gasped, or did she gulp? Whatever she did, it was involuntary. At the sight of the sisters standing inches away in the toddler room doorway, all conscious thought had fled her mind.

“Good. We caught you!” Jacqui stuck out her hand.

In one fluid movement—a bit too fluid, as it turned out—Hannah thrust the mess of waterlogged paper directly into the woman’s open palm.

“Oh, no! I am so sorry.” Hannah pulled back, snatched up the bucket and dumped the foul mess into it. “Really. So, so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Jacqui laughed—though not nearly as much as Cydney did.

“That’s right.” Cydney pushed past her sister into the room. She turned on her glittery tennis shoe and waved one hand in the air. “We don’t mind getting dirty. We’ve come to help.”

More like come to witness another of her disasters, Hannah thought glumly. Not that they had intended that, but more and more it seemed the obvious conclusion to anything Hannah did that involved interacting with normal human beings.

Hannah stepped into the hallway hoping the sisters would follow her lead.

Not only did they not follow, Cydney sat down at the table and began shuffling through Hannah’s parcel of mail, humming as she did.

Distraction. That’s what was in order.

It had worked with Sam. Why not the DIY-Namic Duo?

She gripped the handle of the bucket and retreated another step.

Thunk.

Her heel clomped against one of the paint cans she had yet to finish hauling to the church basement.

Suddenly she knew just what task she could use to get them out of her hair—and, more importantly, out of her nursery.

“Terrific! So fabulous for you both to offer your time, but we’re actually all done for the day here.” She clunked the bucket back down and shook the last bit of damp from her hands. “Tidied up as much as we can for now and…Say, maybe there is something you two can do to help me out.”

Jacqui tipped her chin up and shook back her short, sassy blond hair. “Name it.”

“Well, you see, when I got here this morning, I found this room being used for storage, but I knew we were going to need it if we wanted to expand our infant and toddler programs. So, with that in mind, I started clearing the way, grabbing some paint cans and carpet samples and—”

“No!” Jacqui flashed her sister a stunned look, then turned to Hannah again, blinking slowly as she asked, “Really?”

“I…uh…” Hannah glanced at Sam, who looked a lot like he did the day he came in to find the dog had rubbed skunk spray all over their living room.

“Can you believe it?” Cydney shot upright so fast that her tot-size chair tipped over backward. She raised the rolled-up edition of the Wileyville Guardian News, like Lady Liberty lifting high her torch, and marveled, “I never dreamed I’d see the day.”

“The day when someone would ask you…” Hannah motioned toward the pile of junk waiting for relocation.

“Ask us.” Cydney pressed the paper to her chest. “Us, sister.”

“I heard it.” Jacqui held up her hand, always the one to remain calm and take charge. “But let’s not go all flighty and ridiculous about it.” She fixed her