Courting the Clown by Cathy Quinn

little brat. And I haven’t been able to help Lana.”
    “Of course you have! She’s a troubled little girl, obviously, but you two have a good relationship. She obviously adores you. She’ll come around.”
    He smiled. “Thanks. I appreciate the confidence.”
    “And Emily is just... spirited. She needs discipline, and you’re giving it to her. So, don’t feel like you’re not good enough. I can’t imagine a better father for the girls.”
    “Thanks. I appreciate your confidence.”
    The cat twisted out of Sylvie’s grasp and walked across the table to the windowsill where she sat down to watch the falling snow. Nick stole a piece of chocolate out of Sylvie’s hand and popped it in his mouth. “By the way, that was not a bad Abba performance.”
    “What? You promised not to listen!”
    “I promised to look out the window and keep my hands over my ears. I did. But I couldn’t help it if the whole show was reflected in the window and the sound to carry just fine through my hands.”
    “I was doing a job,” Sylvie muttered. “Clowning around.”
    “You did a great job. All the kids loved you.”
    “I don’t think this is going to help Lana much though.”
    “It already has. You don’t know how it’s been. Just to have her ask for something...” He shook her head. “Kids are always asking for something. Most of the time it’s damn annoying. But when they don’t ask for anything at all... it’s terrifying.”
    “She’ll come around,” she said. “I’m sure she will.”
    “Yes. She’s at least speaking again, at school. For many months she didn’t talk at all. The doctors called it ‘elective mutism.’ She simply didn’t want to talk, so she didn’t. Fortunately she didn’t lose her speech at home. God, that would have driven me crazy.”
    He took a deep breath. “Enough about us. How are you doing? Did you finish your Christmas shopping?” he asked. He didn’t seem about to let her go. Not that she blamed him for wanting an adult, any adult, to talk to, if he spent most of his free time in the company of preschoolers. There was only so much you could say on the topics of glow-in-the-dark shoelaces and knock-knock jokes.
    She shook her head. “Nope. Haven’t even started. I’m a last minute kind of a person. How about you?”
    “Mostly done. I’ve learned to be early. Emily pushes. And pushes and pushes and pushes. She’s not happy until she knows everything is piled away in my bedroom closet – which I’ve put a lock on. The tree is in the garage. We’ll be decorating it soon. Lana will be the brains, Emily the brawn, and I’ll be the poor sap stuck between a rock and a hard place.”
    Sylvie grinned. “They’re very different, aren’t they? Does one of them take after you, and the other her mother?”
    Nick shrugged. “Not really.” He looked at his watch. “You’ve been here three hours.” He pulled up a checkbook and started writing. She put her hand on his to stop him.
    “You’re not trying to pay me, are you? You’re already paying me through R&R.”
    He looked up, and suddenly his skin felt warm under her hand. She pulled away as he started speaking. “This is not a part of that job. I already told you I’d pay ten times the going rate. Believe me, it’s worth that much to us.”
    Sylvie shook her head. “I’m not taking that much money, Nick. I’m not even a real clown.”
    He finished signing the check and pushed it towards her. “You’re real enough to Lana and Emily. Lana was stuck to you all evening. And Emily already wants to reserve you for her birthday in July.”
    She pushed the check back across the table. “Oh, Lord. Fortunately, you’ll all have forgotten me by then.”
    “I wouldn’t count on that.” Nick reached out and dragged the wig off her head. “Isn’t it hot under that thing?”
    “Hot and itchy.” She ruffled her hair with her fingers. “Yet I stopped noticing it after a while and forgot all about it.” She stared at