A Season of Angels (Angels Everywhere #1)(49)

“Bad time,” she repeated with a phony laugh. “Of course not. Come on in, Michael.”

Chapter 11

“You’re sure you don’t mind?” Pam asked, leading Scotty by the hand into Leah’s house. “After all the trouble I’ve gone through for this silly Christmas party of Doug’s, who’d believe my baby-sitter would come down with the flu? At the last minute, no less. It was the oddest thing. One minute she was fine and the next she was sick.”

“You should have brought over Diane and Jason too,” Leah said.

Pam laughed outright at that. “Even my mother won’t take all three at once.” Flustered and in a rush, she set everything down on the sofa and started unpacking the items she’d brought along for her middle son. Sorting through the brown paper sack, Pam removed Scotty’s pajamas, an extra set of clothes for the morning, his stuffed dinosaur and a tattered yellow blanket. “He’s mostly given up his blanky, but he might need a bit of security to sleep in an unfamiliar bed.”

“I’ll make sure he has it with him.”

“I brought along some extra training pants,” Pam said, setting out a stack of them.

“I don’t wet,” Scotty said, his fists braced against his small hips. “I’m a big boy.”

“I forgot his potty seat,” Pam cried. “Oh, well, you’ll just have to hold him over the toilet.”

“Don’t worry, Scotty and I’ll figure everything out as we go. Isn’t that right, bud?”

“Right.” She held out her hand for him to slap, which he did with enthusiasm, his arm making a high arch into the air.

Pam straightened and held back her hair with both hands. “I hope to heaven that’s everything. Here’s the number where Doug and I’ll be,” she said, pulling a slip of paper from her coat pocket. Getting down on her knees, she wrapped her arms around her three-year-old. “Promise me you’ll be an extra good boy for Auntie Leah?”

Scotty clung to her neck and planted a wet kiss on her cheek.

“We’re going to have a great time, aren’t we, Scotty?” Leah urged, knowing how bad Pam felt to be leaving him in an unfamiliar setting.

Scotty nodded, but looked uncertain when his mother left. Pam was halfway out the front door when she turned back. “He probably needs to go now.”

“Pam,” Leah said, ushering her friend out of the house, “scoot, otherwise you’ll miss your hair appointment.”

“I’m hurrying—”

“Stop looking so worried. Everything’s going to be just fine.”

Scotty was standing at the window, his mouth pressed to the cold glass as he watched his mother pull out of the driveway. He looked at Leah and his bottom lip started to tremble.

“Scotty, how about helping me with lunch?” she asked, holding out her hand. “You can decide what to fix for Uncle Andrew, all right?”

The boy shook his head, smearing his lip prints from one pane to the next.

“Are you hungry?”

Once more Scotty shook his head. “I want my mommy.”

“She’s going out to dinner with your daddy and his friends from work.”

“I want to go too.”

“This dinner is only for mommies and daddies.”

Apparently this wasn’t what Scotty wanted to hear because the tears started in earnest. He was breaking her heart, standing with his back to the window, rubbing his eyes and sobbing softly. She couldn’t bear to see her godson weeping so pitifully, so she lifted him into her arms to comfort him. Scotty buried his face in her shoulder, snuffling into her expensive cashmere sweater. Leah smiled to herself and shook her head. This was what it meant to be a mother, to be loved and needed. She’d treasure every moment of the time with this precious little boy.

It took Leah only a few moments to get Scotty interested in helping her assemble sandwiches. Andrew arrived about the time the boy was licking the jelly off the knife and sticking it back inside the jar.

“So we have company,” he said, removing his jacket and hanging it on the peg just inside the door.

Scotty looked at her husband as an unknown entity, his big dark eyes following Andrew’s movements around the kitchen as Leah explained Pam’s sorry predicament.

“Peanut butter and jelly?” Andrew grumbled under his breath, eyeing their lunch.

“That was what Scotty wanted us to have.”

“You sure he didn’t suggest pastrami on rye?” Andrew mumbled out of the corner of his mouth.

“Scotty made the peanut butter and jelly all by himself,” Leah said, urging her husband to compliment the boy on his efforts. There was more peanut butter on the countertop than the bread, but Scotty had done it himself and beamed with pride.

“So I noticed.” Andrew skeptically lifted one corner of the bread. The peanut butter was spread so thin the white bread showed through. He looked at Leah and they both burst into laughter. It wasn’t especially funny, but they seemed to find it so.

Scotty studied them as if he didn’t know what to make of the two. Leah kissed his chubby cheek and set the sandwich and a small glass of milk down on the table. Moving out the chair, Scotty climbed onto the seat. He knelt on the cushion and leaned against the glass tabletop, his small hands circling the glass.