You're My Baby by Laura Abbot Page A

like cats. “Yeah, it’s kinda hard to change homes.” Crap. He hadn’t meant it to come out like that. He sounded like a big crybaby.
    â€œI imagine it is.” She hesitated. “Especially when you arrive to find a complete stranger married to your father.”
    What was he supposed to say to that? Damn right?
    She reached over and ran a hand down Viola’s back. “But I’m hoping you and I can be friends and that you won’t be too hard on your dad. I think he’s been lonely for a long time.”
    Her voice sounded sad. Come to think of it, he hadn’t ever considered that. About Dad being lonely. It always seemed like he didn’t need much of anybody, except for his team and stuff.
    â€œWe’ll all just have to work it out. How to become a family. As for school, I know it will be awkward at first to have me for a teacher, but I checked your schedule. There’s no way for you to take driver’s education without having English sixth period. I hope you don’t mind.”
    â€œIt’ll be okay, I guess.”
    â€œI’ll work hard not to show favoritism, and I hope you won’t let our relationship interfere with your learning.”
    â€œThe other kids’ll prob’ly call me teacher’s pet.”
    She chuckled. “We’ll have to be sure that doesn’t happen.”
    She had a nice laugh, too. Maybe it wouldn’t be toobad having her around. But of course she was sucking up now. She needed her stepson to like her.
    â€œHere we go.” With a bag of chips clutched under his arm, Dad juggled three glasses of soda. While they drank, they worked out when they’d bring over Pam’s boxes and furniture. Dad seemed kinda nervous about her plans for sprucing up the house, but Andy thought they sounded okay. Dad was a tan-and-gray kinda guy, but Pam was red, orange and yellow. After he’d scarfed down the last of the chips, he excused himself. Maybe he’d actually read “The Tell-Tale Heart.”
    Later he sprawled on his stomach across his bed, the lit book propped on the pillow. This was good stuff. He could almost hear the beating heart. Whoa. He could hear it. Then he realized it was Viola. Purring. While he’d been absorbed in the short story, she’d nudged his door open and now snuggled beside him on his bed.
    Cool.
    Â 
    G RANT HELPED P AM bring in the rest of her stuff, including litter boxes, one of which she placed beside the tub in the downstairs bath they would share. And he’d thought wet panty hose would be the most offensive addition to his bachelor quarters! He’d made room in his closet for her hanging things. Now, though, he could see he’d probably have to move his wardrobe to the upstairs spare bedroom, at least if he had any hope of leaving any space between garments. It had been a startlingly swift and complete invasion of his space—her robe hung from a hook beside the shower, the kitty nest was wedged between the bureau and the wall, assorted colognes were aligned on the dresser top and shoe boxes too numerous to contemplate were stacked on the floor. On the bedside table, as if it had always been there wasa dated photograph of a smiling young couple, her parents he presumed.
    He could hear Pam in the bathroom, rearranging the medicine cabinet to make room for her cosmetics and medications. He flopped on the bed, hands cradling his head. In retrospect how simple it would’ve been to ensconce a housekeeper in the guest room, close his bedroom door at night and relax in his masculine sanctuary. Now he was practically going to have to make an appointment to step into his own shower.
    Then there was Andy. Not only understandably upset and confused, but also on the lookout for evidence that he and Pam were behaving like a horny teenager’s version of newlyweds. He rolled over on his side, sat up and grabbed the bedside phone. No point postponing the inevitable.