When Harriet Came Home by Coleen Kwan Page B

the horror of what she’d done.
    Another cry shuddered from the house.
    “Jarrod…” She scrambled to her feet and stumbled back into the house.
    The little boy stood in the middle of the family room, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks. He bolted toward her and latched on to her legs. Soothing him with nonsensical babble, she picked him up and gave him a cup of water. He took a few gulps, whined and pointed toward a jar of pink iced biscuits.
    “Bikkie!”
    “Cindy usually lets him have a handful of those in the afternoon.” Adam stood in the doorway.
    He didn’t seem keen to reenter the kitchen. Perhaps he feared she might launch herself at him a second time. Cold dismay fought with her blushes, leaving her cheeks feeling blotchy. Jarrod wrapped his arms around her neck and grizzled into her hair.
    “They look too sugary. I think I’ll make him a cheese sandwich instead,” she said, struggling to sound normal.
    Jarrod refused to let go of her. When she tried to lower him to the floor, he clung to her even tighter, moaning as if she’d asked him to walk on hot coals.
    “Jarrod,” Adam called. “Do you want to come outside and help me build something?”
    The moaning stopped. The boy jumped off Harriet and ran toward Adam with a shriek of joy. Adam scooped him up and carried him outside.
    Harriet breathed a sigh of relief, but as she busied herself making a cheese sandwich, her mind began to churn. What had she done out there on the deck a minute ago? Adam had paid her a mild compliment, and it had all gone straight to her head like cheap wine. She’d swayed against him, leaned in and puckered up her lips. Ugh! How humiliating! But hang on, didn’t he put his hand on her neck? Probably just to haul her off him. Double ugh! What would have happened if Jarrod hadn’t woken up? Would she have grabbed Adam and pashed him against his will? Her stomach rolled.
    She found a plastic plate for the cheese sandwich, cut an apple into quarters and filled a beaker with milk. She had a strong inclination to loiter in the kitchen, but she couldn’t let Jarrod go hungry. She ferried the food outside to find Adam and Jarrod playing on the deck with a stack of wood off-cuts. Jarrod was totally immersed in constructing a bridge, while Adam sat cross-legged next to him, giving him advice and encouragement.
    Harriet stopped, caught by the unexpected scene. Adam looked so at ease playing with the three-year-old. He glanced up at her, no disgust or wariness apparent in his face, and she sat down gingerly beside them, laying the plate of food and the milk next to Jarrod.
    “Looks like Jarrod might be an engineer one day.”
    He sounded so normal, she thought. As if nothing had happened between them just a few minutes ago. As if she hadn’t experienced a temporary brain explosion. Adam wanted to ignore what had happened just as much as she did, that much was obvious.
    “Thanks for helping me with him,” she said. “I hope we’re not keeping you from your work.”
    He glanced at her over Jarrod’s head. “That’s okay. I was just finishing up for the day.”
    An uncomfortable silence settled on them. Jarrod demanded Adam help him with his bridge, and Adam obliged. Thank goodness for three-year-olds, Harriet thought. Without Jarrod’s distractions she would have gone crazy under the tension.
    Cindy arrived home a few minutes later and Jarrod launched himself on to her like a spider monkey, refusing to let go. Dropping her clutch of shopping bags, Cindy collapsed onto the nearest couch, and gave in to her son’s noisy greeting.
    “Oh, Adam, you can give Harriet a lift home, can’t you?” Cindy yelled as she unwrapped a chocolate bar for Jarrod. “I think I’ve had too much to drink.”
    Adam was still out on the deck, lacing up his work boots. He paused to shoot Harriet an enigmatic look. “Sure,” he said. “No problem.”
    Wonderful, Harriet thought. Now she’d be alone with Adam again. She climbed into