Yesterday's Embers by Deborah Raney Read Free Book Online Page B

to each hand, but at the sound of Doug’s voice, they let loose and made a beeline for the door. “Daddy!”
    Harley squealed and toddled toward him, too.
    Even Landon jumped off the sofa where he’d plopped in front of the TV with the remote. “Hey, Dad.”
    Doug squeezed his shoulder, patted the girls’ heads one by one, and scooped Harley into his arms. But he kept his eyes on Mickey. “Hope you haven’t been waiting long. It took me a little longer than I thought.”
    “No, we just got here. I hope you don’t mind that I…came on in. The kids sort of…” She shrugged.
    He shook his head. “Of course not. I appreciate you bringing them home. Sorry it worked out that way.”
    “It’s no problem.” Feeling awkward, she picked her way through kids and toys to the door. “I’d better get back…let you guys eat your dinner.” She looked pointedly at the Dairy Barn sack, which masked the mustiness with a fragrant burger-and-onions-and-fries aroma.
    Sarah grabbed her hand again. “You can have supper with us. Can’t she, Dad?” Like an eager puppy, she wagged her blond head, sending her curls bouncing.
    Mickey avoided Doug’s eyes. “That’s sweet, Sarah, but…I need to get going.” Reaching past him for the doorknob, she glanced up and thought she saw relief in his eyes.
    But he surprised her by picking up the Dairy Barn bag and giving it a little shake. “Sure. Stay. There’s plenty.” He tousled Landon’s hair. “That is, if this little wolfhound doesn’t get carried away.”
    “We’ll share. Won’t we, guys?” That was Sadie, always the mediator.
    Mickey held up a hand and opened the door, shaking her head. “Thanks, but I couldn’t.”
    “Stay.” Doug beckoned her and carried the Dairy Barn bag to the adjoining dining room.
    She traipsed after him and stood by dumbly while he moved mounds of junk-mail catalogs and a stack of what looked like sympathy cards off the tabletop.
    “This’ll be your reward for hauling the kids home. It’s the least I can do.”
    She felt trapped now that she’d followed him back here. It was awkward, being here with him and the kids. But the burgers smelled good, and it would be more awkward to bow out now. “You’re sure there’s enough?”
    “Oh, yeah. No problem.” He set Harley on the floor and clapped his hands. “Kayeleigh, you and Landon get the paper plates and napkins.” He turned to Mickey, looking sheepish. “We avoid dishwashing at all costs around here.”
    She laughed. “Hey, I hear you.” But looking through to the kitchen behind Doug, it was apparent he wasn’t kidding. The sink was piled high with dirty dishes, and the countertops were strewn with cereal boxes and empty juice bottles.
    Doug pulled out a chair. “Here. Sit.”
    She did as she was told while the twins vied for chairs on either side of her. Kayeleigh and Landon put slightly crumpled paper plates at each place. Doug got the toddler settled in the highchair with a handful of French fries. Stuffing her mouth full, Harley banged on the tray for more.
    Doug obliged, then disappeared into the kitchen. He came back with a half-empty bottle of ketchup, a two-liter bottle of store-brand pop, and a stack of plastic cups.
    Kayeleigh doled out burgers and fries, putting two on every plate except her own. “Tear some of yours off for Harley,” she told the twins.
    “Thanks, honey, but I can’t eat two. Here…” Mickey handed back one of her burgers.
    The twins looked relieved, but she felt bad that Kayeleigh had still ended up with only one hamburger.
    Without prelude, everyone bowed their heads around the table and recited a blessing Mickey had sometimes used at the daycare center.
    “Thank You for the world so sweet .
    Thank You for the food we eat .
    Thank You for the birds that sing .
    Thank You, God, for everything.”
    D oug’s “Amen” seemed to be the signal for everyone to snarf down the food in front of them. Kayeleigh unwrapped her burger, tore off a