Page 47 of Out Of A Fix

I nodded.

“Here, is it fine?” Darwin asked, bringing the clean knife over for me to inspect.

“It is. Good job. Now you gotta get ’em outta there because the pan’s still hot and they’ll keep cooking, and you don’t want the bottoms to burn.”

“Got it,” he said, leaving us.

“Darwin bakes?”

“He’s tryin’ it out to see if he likes it. Baking is a more scientific endeavor, which appeals to his logical mind.”

His eyes did not leave my face.

“You have questions, I have answers,” I said, while wondering why their father wasn’t being hugged. No one had embraced him in greeting, and worse, in my opinion, he didn’t seem to be missing the affection. What the hell was happening?

“A fixer? What even is that?”

Lost in thought, I didn’t answer him.

“Nash?”

“Sorry, I protect and solve problems,” I stated, glancing around at all of them. They were all busy, not one of them gazing at their father with longing. Had they missed him at all? “I have been with your kids since Sunday of last week, so nine days counting today.”

He was quiet a moment, and then his eyes got big like his daughter’s did when she had an epiphany, and because he reminded me of her, I sighed.

“You weren’t a school counselor calling about Griff.”

“No, sir. Fixer. And that Sunday turned out to be quite eventful.”

“That’s why the six or seven calls.”

“Yes.”

He took a deep, shaky breath.

“I’m sorry the house was locked when you arrived, but there are new keys, and your set is on the hooks over there,” I said, pointing to the new area we’d made right under the glass cabinets with the house phone. “The code is different now too, and both those security measures were taken because no one could tell me precisely who had keys to the house and who knew the alarm code. Without knowing specifics, I had no choice but to have a redo.”

He nodded solemnly.

“So I’ll give you everything.”

“Okay,” he whispered. “I tried to get in through the garage, but there’s a deadbolt on the door into the house now.”

“Yes. Safety protocol.”

“What’s the alarm code?” When I gave it to him, he smiled. “Like the town in Jaws?”

“Finally,” I announced to the room, and the kids laughed.

“I love that movie,” he said, his eyes back on me. “But the dog dies at the beach, and that would upset Tatum.”

“Yes, it would,” I agreed, grinning at him as Tatum put a mug of coffee in front of him, along with a spoon and a napkin.

“Pass him over the half-and-half, Nash,” she directed me. “He likes that.”

I did as I was told as Darwin set a muffin on a dessert plate in front of his father and then one for me. Both had butter on them already.

“I like more than this,” I griped at him.