“That’s what we need!” Sydney said. “Or rather, that’s what Dad needs. Woman troubles.”
“Okay,” Sasha agreed, “but we’re right back to where we were before. Where are we going to find a woman who would be the least bit interested in our father?” Again, her face screwed up as if the mere idea was downright repulsive.
“Lots of kids at school have parents who are divorced,” Sophie said.
Sasha blurted, “Hey, Debbie’s mom is single.”
“Don’t even go there!” Sydney shivered. “Could you imagine Dad hooked up with Debbie’s mom? That woman is too snobby for her own good.”
“I’m with you,” Sophie said. “I don’t mind going to Debbie’s party, but I don’t want her to be my step-sister.”
“Jeez,” Sasha said, anxiety lighting her eyes, “you never said this woman-trouble thing would turn into anything permanent. I don’t know…” She was obviously having some serious second thoughts.
“Hey,” Sophie said, “I don’t want Dad to get married…or…or even have a steady girlfriend any more than you do. But if we’re going to have any fun during our teenage years, we’ve gotta do something!”
Sydney spoke again, “And if there’s any chance of Dad gettin’ married, I sure don’t want to be related to any of the kids from school. Talk about weird.”
All three were silent as they thought about their dilemma.
Finally, Sasha said, “Well, I hate to keep bringing this up, but we still haven’t solved the problem of finding a woman.”
Just then Rachel arrived back at the table.
The clear and obvious solution smacked all three of the girls in the face at the same instant. Their eyes widened as they looked at one another.
And then they burst into gales of giggles.
Rachel cocked her head to one side. “What scheme are you girls hatching now?” she asked.
The girls laughed all the harder.
“I’m so glad you saved me a few of those onion rings,” Rachel said, swiping one from the plate and popping it into her mouth. Then she slid into the booth next to Sophie, like an innocent lamb strolling into a butcher’s shop.
Chapter Two
Something odd was going on. The girls’ behavior was…fishy. They seemed to be arguing among themselves, Rachel thought. However, their voices never rose above a hushed whisper and they seemed to engage in this secret battle only when they went into the dressing rooms to try on outfits. And every time Rachel was stirred to intervene and probe the problem, they would smile up at her innocently and make some remark that led her to believe that they were deliriously happy with their siblings and all was right with the world.
Yes, something was definitely fishy.
In the department store, Rachel had slipped into the fitting area with a lovely dress made of a fabric she thought Sydney would love. As she stood on one side of the curtain, Sophie and Sydney on the other, Rachel overheard Sophie snap, “I will not let you ruin my evening.”
To which Sydney had replied, “But this was your idea!”
Rachel had no clue what Sydney had suggested that might spoil their shopping trip at the mall, and she hadn’t a chance to hear another word as Sasha rushed into the fitting area behind her, loudly calling Rachel’s name and proclaiming how much she adored the dress Rachel had chosen for Sydney.
Luckily, whatever hullabaloo had been brewing between the triplets eventually subsided and died away completely. Or seemed to, at least. And two and a half hours after arriving at the mall, having visited only one major department store and three apparel shops, the girls were outfitted for the party.
“These after-Christmas sales are great,” Rachel said, smiling through her fatigue. “Your dad is going to be quite pleased when he learns how much money we saved.”
Judging from the girls’ lukewarm reactions, Rachel came to the conclusion that frugality wasn’t in their adolescent dictionary.
“What do you say we stop at the food court for an ice cream before we head home?” she asked them.
Their reactions to this suggestion weren’t the least bit hesitant or halfhearted. Rachel just shook her head and laughed.
Once the four of them were seated, each feasting on a mound of ice cream smothered in various toppings, Sydney said, “Rachel, would you consider coming to the party with us?”
Her spoon had been poised midway between her dish and her mouth, but Rachel forgot all about luscious fudge sauce, so surprised was she by the question.
Sasha piped up, “Oh, you wouldn’t be coming as a guest. You’d be a chaperone.”
“I see.”
Was that hesitation Rachel saw in Sophie’s expression? But when next she looked, the child’s face was filled with a smile, even if it was tight-lipped.
Sophie said, “Debbie’s mother asked last week if some of the parents could come to help out, but…w-well…we didn’t really want—”
Rachel smiled. “I understand. When you’re twelve years old, adult supervision is the last thing you want.”
She slipped the fudge-encrusted spoon between her lips and rolled the chocolate around in her mouth. After she swallowed, she asked, “But don’t you think you ought to talk to your dad about this? His feelings might be hurt if you don’t give him the opportunity to attend the party.” She hastily added, “As a chaperone, of course.”
The triplets looked at each other, and Rachel got the distinct impression that they were actually communicating by some sort of mental telepathy. It was silly, really, but then again, she’d read that identical siblings often had a special bond.
Finally, Sydney said, “Would you go?” She averted her gaze and added, “You know, if Dad says it’s okay?”
Rachel looked down at her dish of ice cream, swirled her spoon in the whipped cream and nudged at the cherry as she dealt with the sudden emotion welling inside her.
Warmth filled her heart, and unexpected tears blurred her vision. The love she felt for these children was overwhelming at times. Here they were, getting ready to go to their first semiformal party, one of them even contemplating experiencing her very first kiss, and they were asking her to be a part of their special evening.
Memories bombarded Rachel. In the blink of an eye, she was standing beside her best friend’s hospital bed, promising Olivia that she’d watch out for the girls. That she’d help to nurture them. That she’d do all she could to see to it that they grew into intelligent, well-rounded, happy individuals.
Olivia wasn’t here to attend the triplets’ first fancy party. Olivia couldn’t snap any pictures of them all dressed up for the evening. Olivia couldn’t give them advice about boys, or buy them pretty dresses, or act as a chaperone.
So Rachel would step forward and do all of these things.
“What’s wrong?” Sophie asked, a frown biting deeply into her young brow.
“Why are you upset?” Sasha put her spoon down and stared at Rachel with worry in her gaze.
“I’m fine,” Rachel assured them softly.