Apprentice Father by Irene Hannon

with relief.
    During the meal, he did his best to engage the children in small talk, following her lead. He managed a joke or two, teased Emily about her milk mustache, and tousled Josh’s hair twice.
    But nothing worked. Both of the children picked at their food. Even their fries were hardly touched.
    After it was clear they’d eaten as much as they were going to, Cate and Clay gathered up the remains of the lunch. As Clay slipped back into the booth after disposing of the trash, arching an eyebrow in her direction, she laid her hands on the table, palms up. “Let’s all hold hands for a minute, okay?” Signaling to Clay, she wiggled the fingers of one hand in his direction and extended her other hand toward Emily, who sat beside her.
    Clay immediately enfolded her fingers in his. Despite the serious nature of this tête-à-tête, his strong, sure touch played havoc with her metabolism. But this wasn’t about her. Or them, she reminded herself. This was about helping the children. She needed to focus.
    And Emily’s hand creeping into hers helped her do that.
    Smiling down at the little girl, Cate gave her an encouraging squeeze. Josh had taken Clay’s hand, too, and the children also reached across the table and linked fingers. The four pairs of hands formed a lopsided circle on the Formica top.
    â€œThat’s better, isn’t it? It always makes me happy to hold hands with people I love.” Cate said the last word without thinking, and her cheeks grew warm. Risking a quick peek in Clay’s direction, she couldn’t tell if the emotion in his eyes was residual anger—or something different but equally powerful.
    Fixing her gaze on the children, Cate focused on them. “It’s also easier to talk about things you’re worried about if you hold hands. Uncle Clay told me your grandfather came to visit today. Are you worried about that?”
    A sniffle preceded Emily’s answer. “Do we have to go with him?” Her question came out in a tremulous whisper.
    Though Cate was far better at dealing with situations like this than he was, Clay knew it wasn’t fair to let her handle the toughquestions. So he stepped in, doing his best to imitate her gentle, encouraging inflection. “I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you don’t. I want you to stay with me. Would you like that?”
    â€œYes. We don’t like him. He’s scary,” Emily responded.
    Clay could empathize, but he wanted to hear their version. “How come?”
    â€œHe used to come and visit sometimes. But he wasn’t very nice. And he never smiled. He told me if I wasn’t a good girl, I’d go to hell.”
    â€œHe said in hell, people burn. I don’t want to burn.” Josh’s words quavered as he added his recollections.
    Once more, Clay’s fury escalated. To instill fear into two innocent children too young to know the meaning of the word bad was no less than criminal. But Cate’s gentle warning squeeze of his fingers helped him stifle his anger as he struggled to maintain a placid expression.
    â€œYou aren’t going to go to hell, Josh,” Clay assured him. “And you aren’t going to go to live with your grandfather, either, if I can help it.”
    â€œBut what if he comes b-back?” Emily’s voice caught on the last word.
    Based on his father’s parting words, Clay suspected that was a probable scenario. But he didn’t plan to let the old man have the children. Period.
    â€œYou live with me,” he told Josh and Emily in a firm tone. “And your grandfather lives far away. You don’t need to worry about him coming back very often. If he does, I’ll be here to keep you safe.”
    It was a promise Clay intended to keep, and he said it with sufficient conviction to ease the children’s tension.
    â€œWe like it here with you,” Josh told him, and Emily bobbed her