Word has it that opposites attract. Jessica Keith would give the pithy expression two middle fingers because a wild party girl like her and the prim do-gooder, Matthew Parkinson are opposites hopeless to attract, let alone breathe the same air.
Howe...
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Matthew regarded his brother's boys with amusement. Coby and Kyle had refused to take a shower and his brother, Cade is chasing them around the playground, towels over his shoulder.
He had been early as Kathie requested their triplets' godfather to help her out. And as Matthew sees her in her pink apron with cupcakes still needing decorating for the birthday party, he had been right to be there early in the morning.
Although Audrey, Rachel and Kylie had been there with him, he was glad he was there.
"I can't thank you enough for being here, Matthew. My sister and her husband are on her way with their kids, but I need every help I can get."
Matthew gives her a polite smile. "I rang Andrei and Chandra on my way over here. I hope it's okay."
"You did?" Her rich brown eyes melted in relief. "You are such a god-send, Matty."
"Where's the godmother of the birthday celebrants?" Audrey questioned out, a little frown marring her poker face.
Rachel and Kylie look up from the cupcake batter. "Probably on her way."
"I'll text her," Kylie reassured.
Just when they thought the hectic day was starting to look up, Emma – the nanny his sisters in-law shared entered the kitchen, a problematic uncertainty on her face. "Chloe, doesn't want to wear her dress," she murmurs to Kathie.
Their heads snapped to the little girl standing by the doorway, still in her fluffy bathrobe. There was a stiff frown on her cute face that made her look a lot like her daddy. And there's no mistaking that she wasn't pleased and wouldn't be sweet-talked into wearing anything.
"I'll take care of the cupcakes," Emma offers with an apologetic smile.
Kathie took off her apron and handed it over to Emma. "Sweetie, you have to wear the dress for your birthday party."
The little girl folded her arms stubbornly across her chest. "I don't like it."
Her mother knelt to her eye-level and finger combed her brown hair. "But your grandmas pick it out for you."
"I don't want to look like a princess." She stomped her foot, her blue eyes blooming with tears.
Oh, boy.
They all exchanged glances, none of them risking to interfere.
Kathie clasped a hand on her daughter's. "Baby, just because the dress is pink doesn't mean you'll look like a princess. Mommy's wearing pink too. And it won't make me look like a princess."
"I don't like the ruffles. They itch," Chloe grumbles.
"We'll change it up a bit. Whatever you like. We're calling grandma Lizzie and Margaret," she comforted.
