Waiting For Nick
Page 36
Seamlessly Trace passed Freddie to Frank, so that she was caught up in surprisingly ropey arms and became part of the dance. "You dance, boy?" he shouted at Nick.
"Actually, I—"
"Dad, let them catch their breath." Chuckling, Abby turned from the stove and moved to Nick. "Welcome to bedlam. I'm Abby Crosby."
"You were an O'Hurley first," her father reminded her.
"Abby O'Hurley Crosby," she corrected. "And if you sit down quickly enough, Dad won't be able to make you learn to do a time step."
They were quite a crew, Nick discovered. Before he fell into his own extended family, he hadn't really believed people lived this way. But, like the Stanislaskis, this confusing, noisy group was a family.
And Nick had learned that such families often talked over each other, around each other, and very often through each other. They picked petty fights, argued over nothing, chose sides. And united like steel against any outside foe.
He knew he was going to enjoy them, could already tell some of the kids apart by the time the chaotic meal they shared was over. Twins and triplets abounded, just to confuse things. But it was no surprise, he supposed, as Maddy and her sisters were triplets themselves.
After the kitchen was cleared, both Freddie and Nick had agreed willingly with Maddy's suggestion that they run through a few numbers.
It didn't take long for Nick to adjust himself to the household's jumpy rhythm. They even managed to get a little work done between distractions.
"Mom." Maddy's oldest girl came to the music room doorway. "Douglas is being a jerk again." Cassandra's gaze was dark as she complained about her twin.
"He's just a male, honey," Maddy told her. "You have to be patient."
Reed shot his wife a bland look over her opinion of his species. "Cassie, your mother's working, remember?"
"I remember." Cassie heaved a sigh. "No interruptions unless there's blood. Maybe there will be," she muttered before moving off.
"Why don't we take it from the second verse?" Maddy suggested, obviously unconcerned about the possibility of fratricide. "Don't stop now. I've got places to go, people to see."
"From the diaphragm, Maddy," Frank instructed as he strolled in three measures later. "You won't reach the back row that way. It's a nice tune," he told Nick and Freddie. "Had me whistling. In fact, I was thinking about the movements. You know, if we—"
"Dad, we really need to get the vocals before we worry about choreography. Where's Mom?" Maddy asked, before he could tell her why she was wrong.
"Oh, off with some of the kids. Now, I was thinking—"
"Probably went for ice cream." If her mother wasn't around to jerk his chain, Maddy knew, she had to resort to dirty tactics. "I heard a rumor about fudge ripple."
"Oh?" Frank's eyes glazed, then gleamed. "Well, then I'd better go find them. Can't have the children overindulging. Dentist's bills, you know."
"Sorry." Maddy lifted a hand as her father scooted out. "My family."
"No problem." Nick tried a new chord. "I've got one of my own. Second verse," he said, then lost every thought in his head as Chantel sauntered in.
"Oh, don't mind me," she purred. "I'll just sit over in the corner, quiet as a mouse."
"A rat," Maddy muttered. "Go away, Chantel, you're distracting my composer."
Amused that it was no less than the truth, Chantel shrugged her creamy shoulders. "Well, if you're going to be temperamental, I'll go out by the pool. Maybe some of the kids want to take a dip." She aimed a last melting smile at Nick, and glided away.
"Don't worry." Maddy patted Nick's shoulder as he stared blankly at the keys. "She affects men that way. Testosterone poisoning."
"Second verse, Nick." Freddie helped the reminder along with an elbow to his ribs.
"Right, I was just… thinking."
He made the effort, managed to complete the verse, move into the chorus, but then Abby raced by the music room window, screaming with laughter as she was pursued by her husband with a very large water gun.
"The children," Reed said, and shook his head. "Why don't we consider this a successful day's work and take a break? A swim sounds like a good idea."
"A brilliant one," Maddy agreed.
"You go ahead." Freddie picked up a sheet of music. "I'd like to fiddle with this for a few minutes."
"Come out when you're done, then." Maddy reached for Reed's hand. "If you can face it."
Nick craned his neck to try to get a glimpse of the pool. "Do you think she'll wear a bikini?"
Freddie lifted a brow. "Maddy?"
They both knew who he'd meant, but the alternative wasn't an image a man would sneeze at, either. Seeing that Nick was lost in consideration of numerous bikini-clad O'Hurleys, Freddie laughed.
"Animal."
He ran his tongue over his teeth. "You think Abby's going swimming, too?"
"I think you can get in trouble ogling married women. Now, if you can get your hormones under control, I'd like to run through 'You're Not Here.' Maddy might like to work on it later."
"It's rough yet."
"I know, but the core's there."
True enough, he thought. And it might smooth out the edges if they could work on it with Maddy, face-to-face. "Okay. I was thinking, if we tried it this way…"
Freddie closed her eyes, listened as the first notes drifted out. Nodding to herself, she added her voice to his music.
On the patio, Maddy held up a hand, then laid it on Abby's shoulder. "Listen."
"It's lovely," Abby murmured as her eyes misted. "Sad and lovely. She doesn't hide it very well when she sings. Being in love with him."
"No." Chantel slipped an arm around Abby's waist, so that the three of them stood together. "I guess they'll muddle through it."
"We did." With the music floating over them, Maddy gazed out over the lawn, toward the pool.
There was Dylan, coaching one of Trace's girls in a back flip. And Chantel's triplets, in a heated lap race, with Gillian and Cassie playing referee. Douglas was being the jerk his twin considered him, splashing Trace's other daughter.
"Actually, I—"
"Dad, let them catch their breath." Chuckling, Abby turned from the stove and moved to Nick. "Welcome to bedlam. I'm Abby Crosby."
"You were an O'Hurley first," her father reminded her.
"Abby O'Hurley Crosby," she corrected. "And if you sit down quickly enough, Dad won't be able to make you learn to do a time step."
They were quite a crew, Nick discovered. Before he fell into his own extended family, he hadn't really believed people lived this way. But, like the Stanislaskis, this confusing, noisy group was a family.
And Nick had learned that such families often talked over each other, around each other, and very often through each other. They picked petty fights, argued over nothing, chose sides. And united like steel against any outside foe.
He knew he was going to enjoy them, could already tell some of the kids apart by the time the chaotic meal they shared was over. Twins and triplets abounded, just to confuse things. But it was no surprise, he supposed, as Maddy and her sisters were triplets themselves.
After the kitchen was cleared, both Freddie and Nick had agreed willingly with Maddy's suggestion that they run through a few numbers.
It didn't take long for Nick to adjust himself to the household's jumpy rhythm. They even managed to get a little work done between distractions.
"Mom." Maddy's oldest girl came to the music room doorway. "Douglas is being a jerk again." Cassandra's gaze was dark as she complained about her twin.
"He's just a male, honey," Maddy told her. "You have to be patient."
Reed shot his wife a bland look over her opinion of his species. "Cassie, your mother's working, remember?"
"I remember." Cassie heaved a sigh. "No interruptions unless there's blood. Maybe there will be," she muttered before moving off.
"Why don't we take it from the second verse?" Maddy suggested, obviously unconcerned about the possibility of fratricide. "Don't stop now. I've got places to go, people to see."
"From the diaphragm, Maddy," Frank instructed as he strolled in three measures later. "You won't reach the back row that way. It's a nice tune," he told Nick and Freddie. "Had me whistling. In fact, I was thinking about the movements. You know, if we—"
"Dad, we really need to get the vocals before we worry about choreography. Where's Mom?" Maddy asked, before he could tell her why she was wrong.
"Oh, off with some of the kids. Now, I was thinking—"
"Probably went for ice cream." If her mother wasn't around to jerk his chain, Maddy knew, she had to resort to dirty tactics. "I heard a rumor about fudge ripple."
"Oh?" Frank's eyes glazed, then gleamed. "Well, then I'd better go find them. Can't have the children overindulging. Dentist's bills, you know."
"Sorry." Maddy lifted a hand as her father scooted out. "My family."
"No problem." Nick tried a new chord. "I've got one of my own. Second verse," he said, then lost every thought in his head as Chantel sauntered in.
"Oh, don't mind me," she purred. "I'll just sit over in the corner, quiet as a mouse."
"A rat," Maddy muttered. "Go away, Chantel, you're distracting my composer."
Amused that it was no less than the truth, Chantel shrugged her creamy shoulders. "Well, if you're going to be temperamental, I'll go out by the pool. Maybe some of the kids want to take a dip." She aimed a last melting smile at Nick, and glided away.
"Don't worry." Maddy patted Nick's shoulder as he stared blankly at the keys. "She affects men that way. Testosterone poisoning."
"Second verse, Nick." Freddie helped the reminder along with an elbow to his ribs.
"Right, I was just… thinking."
He made the effort, managed to complete the verse, move into the chorus, but then Abby raced by the music room window, screaming with laughter as she was pursued by her husband with a very large water gun.
"The children," Reed said, and shook his head. "Why don't we consider this a successful day's work and take a break? A swim sounds like a good idea."
"A brilliant one," Maddy agreed.
"You go ahead." Freddie picked up a sheet of music. "I'd like to fiddle with this for a few minutes."
"Come out when you're done, then." Maddy reached for Reed's hand. "If you can face it."
Nick craned his neck to try to get a glimpse of the pool. "Do you think she'll wear a bikini?"
Freddie lifted a brow. "Maddy?"
They both knew who he'd meant, but the alternative wasn't an image a man would sneeze at, either. Seeing that Nick was lost in consideration of numerous bikini-clad O'Hurleys, Freddie laughed.
"Animal."
He ran his tongue over his teeth. "You think Abby's going swimming, too?"
"I think you can get in trouble ogling married women. Now, if you can get your hormones under control, I'd like to run through 'You're Not Here.' Maddy might like to work on it later."
"It's rough yet."
"I know, but the core's there."
True enough, he thought. And it might smooth out the edges if they could work on it with Maddy, face-to-face. "Okay. I was thinking, if we tried it this way…"
Freddie closed her eyes, listened as the first notes drifted out. Nodding to herself, she added her voice to his music.
On the patio, Maddy held up a hand, then laid it on Abby's shoulder. "Listen."
"It's lovely," Abby murmured as her eyes misted. "Sad and lovely. She doesn't hide it very well when she sings. Being in love with him."
"No." Chantel slipped an arm around Abby's waist, so that the three of them stood together. "I guess they'll muddle through it."
"We did." With the music floating over them, Maddy gazed out over the lawn, toward the pool.
There was Dylan, coaching one of Trace's girls in a back flip. And Chantel's triplets, in a heated lap race, with Gillian and Cassie playing referee. Douglas was being the jerk his twin considered him, splashing Trace's other daughter.
