Switched, Bothered and Bewildered (8 page)

Jackson
's face remained so stunned she wondered if he'd remain upright. He reached out for a polite handshake in a rather unconscious gesture. Jana Lee shook his hand.

"Well then, goodnight. I'll see you in the office tomorrow," she said. She wedged herself into Jil-lian's Honda Acura and shut the door behind her. She waved again to Jackson, who looked perplexed as he stuck his hands in his jacket pockets and walked away. She rounded the parking garage and smiled to herself. Jackson Hawks was going to be eating out of Jillian Tompkins's hands by the time she was done with him.

Boy, it was refreshing to play with her sister's life. Her car was pretty cool too. When the wooden arm popped up to release her from the garage, Jana Lee hit the gas.

Jackson
had never in his life ended a date with a handshake, and that counted his first date at fifteen with Backseat Brenda Reese. At this moment, he didn't even know what to do with himself. He, the great smooth-talking Jackson Hawks had struck out?

He decided to walk home the twelve blocks to his duplex. The air would be good for him. When he emerged from the parking garage he sent Pops

home, assuring him he'd be fine. The sun hadn't set yet. It was an early-summer sun that stayed up late. He walked past people sitting on their front stoops, people from everywhere in the world.
San Francisco was his kind of town.

Maybe he'd play Jillian's game and do the whole flowers, candy and courtship thing. He was bound to wear her down.

But why would he want to put in that kind of effort when he could have any Babette from the Pacific Bank teller pool down the street cozy in his bed in one night's work?

True, but shallow. Maybe he was tired of shallow. Something about this woman just stuck with him. He couldn't stop thinking about her. Damn it.

⁵

Out of the Frying Pan into the Fire

{"vnV"} "Give me that dog biscuit, Andy, I

^>J\*S
 
mean it."

"You're mean. Where's Mrs. Stivers?"

"She's on a vacation. I'm her sister, I told you that already. We're twins, remember?" Jillian slowly crept up on Andy, but he bolted.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa you can't catch me!" he yowled as he ran in circles around the living room, even across the ugly brown leather sofa.

Jillian watched in horror as the other three kids joined him. What did Mom used to do with the two of them? What the hell did her sister do with four?

Jillian backed up against a safe corner of the wall and watched, frozen in terror. At that moment, the front door opened and she saw Carly walk in.

Carly took a good look around, dumped her backpack on a bench, and stared directly at Jillian, who knew she'd been found out. It had only taken two days! Jana Lee had underestimated her daughter.

Carly let the screaming stream of five-year-olds pass by and went directly to a drawer in the kitchen. "Who wants Kudo bars?"

"Ya ya ya ya ya yay!" they shrieked in shattering unison.

"Line up here," Carly commanded. She pointed to a spot on the kitchen floor.

Jillian couldn't believe they actually did what she said. She watched as Carly demanded they sit around the kitchen table to eat them. "Get juice," she yelled to Jillian.

Jillian jumped to the fridge, grabbed the apple juice and flung a few cupboards open till she found glasses and started to count down four.

"Plastic," Carly called.

"Right." Jillian abandoned the glass and found pastel plastic cups on the same shelf. What was she thinking, arming these crazy kids with glass? She threw the plastic cups on the table and filled them with apple juice as their little grubby hands reached in to snatch them.

Carly ran to another drawer and brought out a plastic bin of crayons, plus a pile of blank coloring sheets. "Who wants to make monsters?" she asked.

"Yay!" They all scrabbled for paper and started

scribbling. Amazingly there was a small, minute, minuscule moment of peace as they chewed, colored, and drank juice in big gulps.

It sure felt like Miller time to Jillian.

Carly left the scene of the crime and came over to the kitchen. She smiled all know-it-ally and poured herself a big glass of apple cider. "So,
Aunt Jillian,
what the freak is going on? Where's Mom?" She tipped the glass to her lips and kept her eyes on Jillian.

"Urn. Thanks for the rescue. You'd think I'd know kids better working for a toy company," Jillian stalled.

"We better get food ready. After that she sends them outside. There's a jungle gym in the backyard. Their parents pick them up at five-thirty so that about covers it."

"I'm on it. I've got the stuff she put on her list right here. The macaroni sort of turned into paste, so we'll have to start over, I guess."

"She made you a list? And is my mother still at the spa, or did she run off and join the navy? Here's a clean pot. We'll boil some more macaroni quick." Carly rummaged in the drawer below the stove.

"She's being me at my office." Jillian refilled her coffee cup and sipped a good, strong sip. Bracing. She needed it. She set down her coffee, took the pot from Carly and started filling it with water. "We had a bet regarding how long it would take you to notice she wasn't me, otherwise I would

have stopped you on your morning run out of the house. It wouldn't hurt you to look up and take notice of what's around you, Carly"

"Who won the bet?" "

"I did. Less than a week."

"I'm glad you're here, Aunt Jillian. Things have been a little weird around here."

"I see that. I'm supposed to be the one getting a break, but I think it's turning out your mom needs one worse than I do."

Carly sat down on a tall kitchen stool opposite her aunt. "That's for sure."

Jillian put the pot on the stove, hiked up the burner to high, then crossed over to her niece. She put her arms around her and squeezed. "I've missed you, kiddo. I love you."

"Me too, Aunt Jilly." Carly squeezed back. Jillian could feel emotion in that hug.

"Watch out," Carly said sharply. Jillian felt something whiz by her head and spotted a green crayon as it smashed into the wall.

"Hey, monsters, no crayon throwing." Jillian marched over to the table of five-year-old terrors. Little redheaded Andy giggled. Jillian rounded the table, looking at their drawings. "Wow, kids, these are great. Andy, is that a two-headed snoz-wonker?"

"A what?" Andy squealed.

"Two-headed snozwonker." Jillian pointed.

"Yeah, yeah! It
is."
Andy seemed delighted.

"Lemme see/' Susy leaned over.

"Very neat work, Susy" Jillian said.

"Thank you, Miss Lady," Susy smiled.

"You're welcome, Miss Susy." Jillian walked back over to the kitchen and pried open a box of macaroni and cheese. She dumped the whole thing into the water, then had to fish out the cheese packet. "Oops." A few stirs, and she picked up her coffee as she watched the noodles boil. She noticed Carly had a cup of coffee. Coffee at fifteen? What was that about? "So, kiddo, what's new in high school?"

"Sophomore year sucks."

"How's your art coming?"

"It's the only thing that keeps me sane. I placed second in the spring exhibition. What's new in the big city?"

"Burnout. I hit the wall. That's very cool about your award."

"Thanks. So you picked our house to chill in?" Carly sipped her coffee.

"Yup. Why are you drinking coffee?" Jillian asked.

"Mom lets me."

"It looks to me like Mom just waves when you pass. Give me that stuff. I'll fix it up for you."

"No way."

"It'll be better, I promise. Trust Aunt Jillian."

Carly looked at her funny but slid the cup over the counter.

Jillian took it away from her and went to the pantry for the hot chocolate mix she'd seen. At least she could minimize the effects. She used the scooper to dump a goodly amount in the cup and stirred by swirling it in the air. Then she headed for the fridge and the new half and half cream she'd bought at the market. She stirred the heck out of the whole mess and gave it a small blast in the microwave, then squirted whipped cream out of a can on top. Ta da.

She passed it to Carly "Mocha Java a la Jillian."

Carly sipped. "Not bad."

"With a little effort, I was thinking we might change things around here. It might make your mom perk up. What do you think?"

"Like
Trading Spaces?"

"Yeah, like that. I mean hey, this is the same stuff as when I lived here in 1985."

"My parents thought it looked retro."

"Retro would be an improvement."

"What would I have to do?"

"Work your butt off. Strip that duck wallpaper border off, paint walls, stuff like that. And honey, clean your horrible room."

"Can we do my room over too?"

"I'm only supposed to be here a week, but they make it look easy on television. And I do know how to do one thing. Hire people. I hired a guy to fix the washer today. Which reminds me, I have a

date with him. Well, your mother has a date with him. I thought he was very interesting and maybe I could leave her something to come home to."

"Geez, Aunt Jillian, fast worker. But I'll have to check him out, you know. I get final approval. Can we do over my room?" Carly asked again.

"Yes, yes. But I've watched enough home makeover shows to know you've got to gut the place first."

"I've got a bunch of ideas."

"I do too. Like you doing all your laundry, because I ain't touchin' it."

"Okay, if you promise that no matter what I come up with for my room you'll do it."

"How about no matter what you come up with I'll look it over and make sure it works, and you'll do your laundry no matter what."

"Deal." Carly slurped up the rest of her mocha and popped off the kitchen stool. "I've got math homework, but I can do that fast. I'll stick a load in first."

"Deal, and I love math, so after the rugrats are gone, I get to look at it, okay?"

Carly rolled her eyes. "I'm only saying yes because you'll bug me anyhow."

"Good." The sound of a whiney female child rose in the air. "Susy, that's quite a siren you've got going there! Air raid alert! Let's move our act outside, kids. There's an Oreo in it for you."

"Aunt Jillian, bribes?"

"I bought four packs of cookies, and I know how to use them. Want one?" She pointed to the familiar cellophane package on the counter.

"You should have told me before I finished my coffee."

"We're going to cold turkey you off coffee, girl. There's a kettle on the stove and you can move to cocoa."

"Are you going to hold my room hostage and make me do what you say?"

"Now you're getting the idea."

"You are the meanest aunt alive." Carly made a face and went for the Oreos. She broke them open and took a handful, then handed the package to Jillian.

"Thanks. I try. Okay, kids, let's roll!" The kids followed like rats after the pied piper, and Jillian led them out the sliding door, over the deck, to a stretch of wood chips and a climbing structure at the back of the house.

She very much liked the blackmail-slash-bribery thing with Carly. It was working well. And making Carly her partner in makeover crime would be a great way to get to know her again. It also made Carly stop long enough to talk to her aunt. Jillian liked that.

Jillian watched the frightening four stuff Oreos in their mouths and run for the climber. Two more days of them, and she'd be a free woman. The sun

shone full out on the happy bunch. Their energy level should be bottled. She didn't know how her sister did it. Kids were just. . . scary.

Jillian was exhausted from her first afternoon of kid care. She'd cleaned up and was now faced with date spruce-up. But how could anyone feel sexy in a denim jumper? And where could they go for an intimate drink on a Monday night? Maybe it was two-fer-night happy hour somewhere and the cute repair guy could save money. Or was she paying, since she was the one who'd asked him out?

Jillian was getting frantic. She dumped the contents of her sister's closet on the bed and gazed at the pathetic pile of rag-bag thrift store specials. The only thing decent was a vintage dress from their grandmother's era. 1965, here we come. She pulled it out of the pile and shimmied into it.

Back in those days they must not have believed in back zippers. She all but dislocated her shoulders, but the damn thing went on. Wow, Grandma was skinny. Jillian gazed in the full-length mirror and smoothed the dress out around her waist. The black lace of the bodice was as delicate as spider-webs, and the peach-colored satin lining made it look like it was just lace, no lining. Very
Cher in
Mermaids.
It hugged her waist and flared out into a slim black skirt. The neckline ran straight across, but the back was a bit plungy Good grief, Granny, who was this dress for?