Mom Over Miami - By Annie Jones Page 0,50
on me to keep my ducks in a row.”
“Ducks?” He jutted his square chin out. “Funny you should mention those.”
Because you look just like one in that fluffy sweater, downy ruffle of blond hair and sticking your chin out like that? One blessing of the driving desire to make everybody love her—she didn’t say half the stuff that popped into her head.
“Because what I’ve been thinking was not about ducks. More like how do you think you’d manage with doves?”
“Doves?” she cooed.
“And sheep?”
“Sheep?” she bleated.
“And camels?”
“I’m sorry, but did you say—?”
He nodded. “Camels.”
She tried to swallow, but her throat had gone dry as the desert. “I—I don’t know how I’d manage any of those. It would be like playing zookeeper.”
“Or innkeeper,” he murmured, his smile breaking slowly.
“Innkeeper?”
“Or innkeeper’s wife, more precisely. It’s not mandatory, but we’ve found Innkeeper’s Wife is an ideal part to grant total access to the stage.”
“The, uh, stage?”
“The best vantage point to oversee things, you’d have to agree.”
“I would?”
“Without the demands of memorizing lines. I assume you wouldn’t want that?”
“Demands? No, I prefer to avoid demands whenever possible.”
“So, it’s the Innkeeper’s Wife, then?”
“For?”
“You, Hannah. That or Stable Man—Stable Person, I guess, in your case.”
Stable Person. She supposed she should consider it a kind of compliment that someone would string those two words together to refer to her. Even if that person was using that string to tie her into knots! “Reverend Tappin, surely you’re not asking me to—”
“Take charge of the children’s Christmas pageant. Yes, Hannah, it’s yours if you want it.”
“But after the redecorating—the chaos, the confusion, the cost—only to end up looking just like it did before I started.” She flattened her hand against the shadow of an elephant’s face lurking beneath her meticulous Eggshell surface. “Don’t you think that shows…something?”
“Indeed I do.”
She exhaled in gratitude.
“It shows that you can handle stressful situations.”
“I don’t think so.”
“And cope with childish behavior.”
“Uh-uh!”
He laughed, and with one fell swoop whisked his hair back into place. Unruffled. The word fit him at this moment in more ways than one as he said, “Hannah, you don’t have to do this.”
“Oh.” He didn’t want her? “Uh, thank you.”
“After all, Jacqui and Cydney are probably free.”
She gave him a sidelong glance.
No, he wouldn’t guilt her into rushing to the rescue.
Not this time.
Really.
“I’d only make a mess of it.”
“I seriously doubt that, Hannah, but if you don’t feel led to participate this year, we understand.”
“We” again. Suddenly she got it. We—the church, her community, people who looked to her to pull her weight around this place.
“I’m so sorry. But Sam and Tessa, you know, they need me.”
“Of course.” He gave her a quick pat on the back, turned and in passing wrapped one knuckle on the freshly painted wall. “You’re right. This covered the old stuff perfectly. Great choice.”
Don’t you dare.
She clenched her jaw and watched the stout fellow striding down the hallway away from her.
“The kids need me,” she called after him. “Everyone is counting on me. If I thought my family could spare me for the time it would take to do it up right, I’d go for it.” She snapped her fingers. “Like that.”
“Then do it.” Payt’s hand closed over her raised hand.
“Wha—Payt!” She spun around and bumped heads with her sweet but sneaky hubby.
“Ow.” He plastered his hand across his forehead.
She did likewise. “Serves you right for creeping up the back stairs to scare me like that. What are you doing here?”
“Arriving in the nick of time, apparently.”
“To do what?”
“To make sure you don’t miss out on doing whatever you were just shouting about.”
“Running the Christmas pageant.”
“Perfect.”
“How so?”
“Because you are bright, talented and great with kids.”
“Oh, yeah, great with feeding them junk food and getting it all over the house and even getting part of the house in the junk food.”
“Hannah…”
“Yeah, yeah, listen to myself. I heard. Now you listen to me, Bartlett. I told Reverend Tappin I can’t do the pageant because I have to take care of my own kids.”
“Then take care of them—and take them with you.”
“Payt, I…” She let her voice trail off and she shook her head.
“Give Sam a part.”
She froze midshake.
“Given the size of your talent pool, every kid in the church will have a part, right?”
“I suppose they’d have to, except the babies like Tessa. Wait a minute, where is Tessa?”
“Mrs. Tappin grabbed her from me the second I hit the door. Sam went over to Stilton’s. All kids accounted for, so you can take a break from worrying.”
“Oh.” Take a