Substitute Sitter

"Why didn't you tell me? I've always tried to be supportive of things you kids want to do. If this is important to you, I'd have done it before...," he offered, trying to reinforce his support for his son and worried that he might not feel it.

Anthony shrugged, "You were always busy with Iris and Evan," he offered quietly, "I wasn't sure I wanted to do it and I didn't want to take up more of your time going someplace else, so when she offered to come here..." he trailed off and dropped his gaze, digging his toe into the carpet. "Thought it wouldn't be as much of a bother."

"Oh, son...," he breathed, instantly moving to his side, dropping to one knee, and wrapping his arms around Anthony. "Tony. I love you. Every bit as much as your brother and sister. You're all important to me. If you have something you want to do, tell me and we'll figure it out. Of course, you can learn cooking with Miss Faith if she's willing. I'm sorry if I gave you the impression that you couldn't ask..."

Anthony shook his head, "You're so tired," he offered finally. "Miss Faith said she could come here and if we're cooking together you won't have to cook dinner. I just thought..." he trailed off with a shrug, "Just want to make life easier for you, Dad."

He tightened his arms. "I love you, son. I'm not too tired for you. But yes, if you want to learn with her and she's willing, I'll set it up. You're such a good boy, and I love you so much...," he said, on the verge of tears as his heart swelled with love for his youngest son who had always been so conscientious of other people and their feelings.

"Love you, Dad," he hugged back tightly, hiding his face in his Dad's neck for a moment, then turned back to the TV as the commercial ended and Faith came back, this time the show was in a warm kitchen filled with shiny pans. The family watched the entire episode and then Jordan got up and walked to the kitchen as the kids went off to do other things. He looked at the piece of paper for a long moment, then pulled out his phone and dialed the number she'd left.

"This is Faith. Hello, Mister Berryman, how are you this morning? Did you find the leftovers OK?" Faith's voice greeted him happily.

"I did, and they were wonderful," he said, remembering how good the meal had tasted the following day. "I... We actually just finished watching your show and...," he paused, then swallowed. "I think we'd... Anthony... would like to take you up on that offer if you're still interested. For him to learn cooking with you?"

"I would be delighted," she murmured with a smile. "He's a sweet kid. Hope and I also had a discussion when I got home and over the course of the day." She paused for a moment, "May we come over and visit?"

"Sure. Our day is kind of free today, though I need to pull my snowblower apart and work on it some this afternoon. Get ready for winter and all, don't you know?" He winced as he caught himself settling into the Minnesotan colloquialism. He'd been there ten years, but it still felt almost weird. He was neither a 'good old boy' nor was he of Swedish descent. But people rub off on you in Minnesota. They often call it 'Minnesota nice', and it's contagious.

"Oh aye, winter is coming, eh?" She teased back, then gave a happy laugh. "Hope and I will be there shortly, I'll bring some muffins." She hung up the phone before he could respond. She hoped he said yes to the idea, it would be fantastic for the six of them.

His mouth was still hanging open when she hung up the phone. Muffins? He was dumbfounded for a moment longer before he blinked and looked around. Quickly he began picking up. Jordan was not a particularly messy man, and for the most part, his kids were responsible and picked up after themselves as well. As a result, there were only a few things that were out of place and needed to be put away, and he was done in plenty of time when the doorbell rang.

Opening it, he smiled and stepped back. "Welcome Faith... Hope. How are you two ladies this morning?"

"Good," Faith smiled as she entered, carrying a basket. Hope followed along with a second basket and he could smell the scent of chocolate and bananas. "Thank you for allowing us to come over."

"Hi, Mister Jordan," Hope said with a smile that was similar to her mother's. "It's good to see you again."

"I hope you're feeling better, Hope," he said, then realized how dumb that sounded. "Er... You seem to be feeling better. I'm glad."

Hope giggled and Faith matched it, "Yes, I am thank you. Female issues, what can you do?" She smiled, "May I take the kids to the backyard to play? Mom wanted to talk to you privately."

"It's more so they don't overhear and try to convince you before you've had a chance to actually think over the cost-benefit analysis," Faith murmured with a small smile.

He blinked, having the sudden realization that the two women were ganging up on him. Jordan swallowed and nodded. "I'm sure the kids would love that. They really enjoy spending time with you," he replied, looking at Hope who beamed at him and walked off toward the den. Turning to look at Faith, he gestured to the kitchen table. "Can I get you anything? Coffee? Juice? Water?"

"Coffee would be nice, thank you," she smiled up at him. "I promise this is an ambush of good intentions, not intervention." She held up three fingers, "Scout's honor."

"Let's picnic in the backyard!" Hope said from the den, all three kids bounded out after her, and each swerved to hug Faith in greeting before chasing her outside. Faith's smile relaxed and brightened at the hug.

In the kitchen, Faith set up muffins for each of them, easily making herself at home. "Now, to start with the simple. Hope has volunteered herself to assist you with the children," she held up a finger, "They have mentioned wanting more one on one time with you, so we thought that perhaps if Hope, myself, and you alternated taking the children to their after-school activities it would both give you breathing room and a chance to spend more time one on one. It is not because you are not enough or failing, it's simple mathematics." She paused, then turned to look at him, "Unless you have a clone machine in the basement... then I will be put out for you not sharing it."

"A cloning machine...?" he murmured, blinking. Then he shook his head to clear it. "No. I don't have a... But... don't the two of you have... better things to do?" he asked. "I mean, surely you weren't waiting around thinking, 'Maybe today will be the day some overwhelmed guy will come along for us to pick up the slack for'?" he offered with a wry smile.

She leaned over and poked his side. "Stop that," she stated firmly. "We are offering to help you because we care about you and the children. We don't have 'better things' because we are part of your circle. You are worth helping and worthy of our help." She nodded firmly. "Now, onto the second part of the discussion, one that might be a little less palatable for you."

"OK...," he said tentatively.

"I'm fairly sure by now you've figured out who I am," she offered. "My network has been after me for some time to do a cooking-with-children show. And despite my apparent ease with your children I typically do not... click with most children." She crinkled her nose cutely at that. "However, due to how easy and fun it was to cook with your children... I would like to explore moving towards developing a relationship with them and starting a new cooking show with them in the spring and into the summer months."

He sat down after setting the coffee in front of her and one in front of himself and stared at it for a long moment. Finally, he murmured, "All right. I'm not inclined to say 'no', because it would be a good opportunity for them. I will confess to being a little worried about them being on television regularly. The publicity? It getting to their heads?" he offered softly, finally taking a sip of his coffee as he tried to sit with his unease and examine it objectively.

"That is part of my proposal," she offered. "Hope has experienced that to an extent, being the daughter of someone 'on TV' isn't much different. That is also why I want to build a relationship with you and the children before proposing it to them." She held up a finger, "I want to build a relationship regardless, I enjoyed my time with the triplets. However, I also don't want to come to you later with this concept and have you start questioning 'Was she being nice just for this?'."

He nodded slowly as he thought about it, turning it around in his head. "You said... you want to build a relationship regardless. Why? I mean... we're not exactly the...," he raised both hands and made air quotes, "... 'fun' family. Or one that has really any semblance of its... sh... stuff together. Usually, in a relationship, both sides give back. Most of the time, I'm barely keeping my nose above the waterline. Everything I've got goes to those kids. They didn't deserve what N... what happened to them," he corrected himself, not wanting to get into the habit of speaking ill of their mother. "I've got to fix it. I've got to...," he trailed off finally.

She reached out to place a hand over his, "Alright, let's take it from the top. My daughter, Hope, has been babysitting for several years now. Her favorite children, the ones she praises the most when she gets home, are your three. Sure, sometimes they do things that are aggravating, but that's what kids do. They always try to fix it, apologize, and clean up after themselves when they screw up. That's the hallmark of someone who is teaching their children properly. Second, being the 'fun' family depends on your definition of fun. I am more inclined to stay home, Hope likes to go out. We compromise and find ways to have fun together. Yes, I acknowledge and anticipate developing a relationship will take time and effort, but as I said before you are worth it. They are worth it."

She swallowed, taking a sip of coffee, then continued, "No, they don't deserve what happened to them, but we don't live in a world where people get what they deserve, we live in a world where choices are made, some are good, like you stepping up to be their father, some are not so good, like her leaving."

"You're... trying to logic at me," he said. "Mister Moorwind does that too. It's...," he trailed off, then sighed. "I just wish I could be enough. Just once...," he breathed, staring back down into his coffee.

"May I hug you?" She asked softly. He slowly lifted his head and shrugged, not understanding why she'd bother. He looked exhausted. Somehow, the mask had slipped off, and what she saw was a shell of a man. One that was desperately trying to pour from an empty cup. She rose to her feet and walked around to his side of the table. Her arms folded him in and his head rested against her chest, the steady sound of her heartbeat filling his ears. "I've got you, lean into me, let me help you. I've been in your shoes and am happy to step up to help you."

His body shuddered and he breathed, "Why? I'm not... worth your time." The wounds were deep, and they'd never healed the way hers had. Admittedly, she'd had much more help. Her parents were wonderful and had gotten her counseling since her dad worked at the hospital and knew some people. They'd helped with Hope when she was little and were both involved in their lives and were an excellent support system. It had still been rough, but she'd come through OK, and while it still occasionally hurt, it was more an ache of wondering what could have been rather than the sharp pain it had been closer to her teenage years.

She tightened her grip, "Well, to continue the logic, it is my time, so I decide who is worth it." She leaned down and whispered in his ear, "And I think you're worth it, therefore since it's my time, it's my choice and my decision. Boom, baby."

He looked again, making sure that the children were outside, and then closed his eyes, which caused the moisture that had been building up there to overflow and slowly drip down his cheeks. "And what about when you realize you were wrong...," he asked again.

"Then I do this thing, called communicating," she said with a smile. "You wouldn't know it because of the blond hair but I'm actually quite good at it." She ran a hand down his side and back, surrounding him with warmth and comfort. "I tell you what the problem is, and we work together to find a solution... isn't that what engineers do?"

He slowly lifted his head off her chest and looked up at her, stunned that she'd just said that. "You're mean," he murmured before he put his head back where it had been. "That was mean," he reiterated softly.

"You're just upset that I'm giving you irrefutable logic and appealing to your engineer brain rather than the emotive morass you've locked yourself into." She stated, then slid her fingers up to dig in slightly under his armpit.

"Hey!" he yelped, squirming. "That's not fair either. What is it with the hostility? All the logic and the tickling when I'm trying to sulk?" he grumped. She was right, of course. He knew it. It was just so hard to listen to when he had to live with the voice in his head all the time that told him that he'd never be good enough. That Nicole had been right to abandon him and the kids. That he didn't deserve anything more.

"Who in the nine levels of satire and sarcasm told you I would be fair?" She asked curiously, then tucked him into her chest again. "If you want to sulk, I will let you, but if you're going to try and argue with me as to how I should or shouldn't spend my time, I will be mean and unfair." She raised a brow, "What are you going to do, spank me? I'd just giggle and enjoy it."

He froze as the thought of bending such a beautiful woman over his knee and spanking her danced through his head. The softest of groans escaped his chest as he found himself affected by the thought with a surprising degree of arousal. "Fine. You're right, OK? I'll stop. Or... try anyway," he conceded. Then, he softly added, "Just... tired."

She ran her fingers through his hair and massaged his temple, "I understand," she smiled softly. "So, we start, the six of us, and figure it out together." She continued to gently touch and massage his head and shoulders, surrounding him with soft warmth and comfort. "Now, with regards to meals, how about I start coming over to cook with Anthony and on the days Evan and Iris don't have practice they can join me. We can work out a schedule for the driving and events for you and Hope, then hopefully when February comes around we can discuss the move toward the show again. How does that sound?"

"You're really sure you want to do this?" he asked softly. "It's not just... pity?"

"If it was in pity, I would pick someone else," she said and rolled her eyes, "Do you have any idea the sheer number of 'Notice me' and 'Love me' letters I get?" She sniffed, "I am choosing you because I like you and think you're worthy. More importantly, my daughter likes you and wants to help you." She giggled, "Plus, your kids are absolutely adorable."

His lips curled into a small, fond smile as he looked up at her, then murmured, "They kind of are, aren't they?"

"Yes, they are," she smiled wistfully, "I remember when Hope was that age, getting into things, causing mischief..." she shrugged. "Plus, I like hugging you, so if I have permission I would like to continue to do so."

Jordan blinked. "I... I'm not so stupid as to tell such a breathtaking woman that I don't want her to touch me... whether I understand why she's doing it or not," he murmured.

"Because I want to," she stated simply, "Besides, you're cute, and it was adorable that you had no idea who I was," she giggled and bumped him with her hip. "It'll be fun."

"I just hope you still think that in a few months," he said softly. "All right... new friend. What would you like to do today?"

"Well, we're going to have muffins, then cook dinner together, I've got stuff in my car in a cooler. Then we'll watch a movie and then Hope offered to babysit so I could kidnap you for a better date."

"A... date? You were... there for my last date, right? The one that ended in a wreck? Where I wasn't... engaging? Interesting?" he offered.

She snorted, then giggled softly, "Yes, but that was a date with someone who only wanted you for your body. This date will be more fun," she held up three fingers, "And if it's not you can spank me..." she tilted her head, "Of course if it is, you can spank me anyways." She giggled, and smiled down into his eyes. "Trust me, I know what you need."

"How do you know what I need?" Jordan asked softly.

"Investigative research, extensive studying, and..." she smirked, "I listened to your kids."

He sighed and shook his head. "Still haven't figured out how to keep their mouths shut, apparently," he murmured. "And a date," he said softly. "Just... don't hate me if it's horrible, OK?"

"Are you going to hate me if it's horrible?" She riposted, "After all I am the one that planned it. It could be no good, very bad, horrifying stuff of nightmares."

He sniffed. "I seriously doubt that," was his reply.

"Either way, I get spankings," she giggled and hugged him again, tucking his head against her chest. She rested her cheek on his head and closed her eyes, savoring this for as long as she could. After several moments, Jordan slowly slid his arms around her waist, careful to keep them in an appropriate place, and held her. It was almost more than he could bear, and he never wanted it to stop. It had been so long since he'd held a woman in simple comfort, and he hadn't realized how much he'd missed it.

The kids came in a little bit later, saw them hugging, and quickly scampered in to join the hugs. "Are you going to be our new mom?" Iris asked curiously. "I wouldn't mind having Hope as a big sister, she's fun."

"I wouldn't mind not being the baby anymore," Anthony grumbled.

"As long as I get to eat tasty food," Evan said with a grin. "And Hope keeps running with me."

"Well I am planning on taking your Dad out on a date if that's OK with you three," Faith said with a grin. "Hope agreed to watch you."

"Yeah!" Iris and Evan said in unison. Anthony looked up at her, biting his lip and clearly wanting to ask a question.

"We're going to have dinner together first," Faith murmured with a smile, "And yes, you get to help cook if you'd like."

"I'll get the cooler," Hope said, then fist-bumped Iris, Evan, and Anthony, "And if I got to pick my siblings, I'd pick you three, ka chow!"

Faith started giggling softly, faint snorting snickers as the four children raced out to get the cooler. Her cheek rested on his head as she laughed, "Iris can be the flower girl..." she snorted and giggled again.

He watched the kids go and murmured, "They look really excited about the idea... But you didn't honestly wake up one morning here recently and say to yourself, 'I'm going to marry that single dad with triplets so that his little girl can be the flower girl,'... Did you?"

"I did not," she giggled, "But I am also not going to object to eventually moving in that direction either if we discover we enjoy each other in that fashion."

Jordan looked up at her again and then nodded slowly. Finally, he smiled a small smile. "I like your laugh. It's... warm. Nice."

"Just don't tickle me," she said warningly, "I turn into a snorting pig with a hyena cackle." She grinned at him, then released him. "So, what would you like for dinner? Or do you just want me to make my planned meal to seduce you?" She winked at him, "Slow roasted lamb, rosemary potatoes, buttery grilled asparagus, and a lovely garden salad."

His eyes widened at the mental image of that meal. "I... Isn't that... too much trouble?" Nicole had cooked, but the meals were of convenience, not fine dining the way this sounded.