Firefighter Daddy by Lee McKenzie Page B

Miranda’s shoulder. “Mom, this is Betsy’s son, Mitch, and his daughter, Miranda.”
    Copper extended her multi-ringed hand. “Ah, yes. The firefighter.” Then she shifted her attention to Miranda and smiled. “And what do you do?”
    She giggled. “I go to school. I’m in Miss Sunshine’s class.”
    “You are? Is she a good teacher?”
    “The awesomest!”
    “I thought she would be. Do you like art?” Copper asked.
    Miranda’s head bobbed excitedly. “We do art at school, and Miss Sunshine’s bringing us here on a field trip next week.”
    “So I hear.”
    “Did you paint all these pictures yourself?” Miranda asked.
    “Yes, I did. What do you think of them?”
    “I think they’re very watery, like the ocean.”
    Copper’s smile indicated she was impressed. “That’s an excellent observation. I was thinking about the ocean when I painted them.”
    She shifted her attention to Mitch. “She’s very perceptive for someone so young.”
    He was tempted to tell her that Miranda didn’t get it from him, but he had a hunch Copper Pennington already had him pegged. Before he could think of something intelligent-sounding to say about her paintings, they were joined by a tall, intellectual-looking man and a young, hip-looking woman.
    “Dad? What are you doing here?”
    Rory hadn’t said anything about her father joining them, and her surprise suggested she hadn’t been expecting him. In an instant, Copper’s demeanor switched from warm to icy. Her greeting was a single word.
    “Sam.”
    If his appearance caught her off guard, she wasn’t letting on.
    Rory hugged her father warmly, but when she spoke to her mother, there was a hint of accusation in her tone.
    “Did you know he was coming?”
    “Of course. He knows better than to show up at one of my openings unannounced.”
    “Why didn’t you tell me?”
    “He asked me not to.”
    “I wanted to surprise you,” Sam said. “And I wish the two of you wouldn’t talk about me as though I’m not in the room.”
    Copper gave him a wry smile. “If you’d rather we talked behind your back—”
    “Okay, okay, okay,” Rory said. “Let’s be nice.”
    “ Nice isn’t in your mother’s vocabulary.”
    Copper ignored the jibe and studied his much-younger companion instead. “At least I’m not—”
    Rory cut off her mother’s response. “For heaven’s sake, stop. Please.”
    She made another round of introductions and while she did, Mitch took stock of the newcomers. Rory’s father was as carefully put together as his ex-wife, albeit very differently. If he was deliberately striving to look literary, he’d succeeded. Longish salt-and-pepper hair pulled back into a ponytail. Bifocals low on his nose. Black turtleneck. Charcoal tweed jacket with suede elbow patches. Blue jeans. His only accessory was the stunning young brunette on his arm.
    “I’d like everyone to meet my assistant, Daisy Dumont,” he said.
    “It’s spelled D-a-y-z-e-e. ” She smiled as though she was revealing a secret.
    D-a-y-z-e-e? What was wrong with D-a-i-s-y? At least with that she wouldn’t have to go through life spelling her name every time she was introduced.
    Sam made a pretense of taking Dayzee’s hand in his. “Copper. You’re looking well.”
    Between Rory, her mother and the girlfriend, Mitch wondered who would strangle Sam first. He usually was not a fan of family drama, but this was more interesting than art. Especially this art, because no matter how long or how hard he stared at these paintings, he couldn’t make out anything familiar. At some point he would have to say something to the artist, and he had no idea what that would be.
    These are mighty big paintings for such a small woman. Even he knew better than that.
    Nice use of color. Duh.
    Go ahead and strangle him. Yep. Under the circumstances, that seemed most fitting.
    “Did you fire your last assistant or did she find a real job?” Copper asked. Ouch.
    Sam didn’t respond.
    Her next