With a Little T.L.C. by Teresa Southwick Page B

must have been like,” he said as they stepped onto the porch. “But I’d like to hear about it. I’d like to get to know you better.”
    Liz shook her head. “No you wouldn’t. Boring.”
    â€œI doubt that,” he answered. Nothing about her was boring.
    Especially the way she looked. He noted her white canvas tennis shoes and red T-shirt tucked into white shorts. When he’d finally gotten hold of her at work to find out where she lived, he’d told her to dress cool and casual because the party was going to be on the patio and the weather rumor was for a May heat wave.The way that shirt outlined her breasts and disappeared into the small waistband of her white shorts accentuating her curvy hips—well it was more than a rumor that his temperature had climbed a degree or two higher in the blink of an eye and continued to shoot up.
    Before he could dwell on that any longer, he opened the door and listened. “It’s too quiet. They must be on the patio,” he said.
    He led the way through the house. When he glanced over his shoulder and found her missing, he retraced his steps and found her admiring the family room.
    â€œThis room is bigger than the apartment I grew up in,” she said. “Do I need to leave a trail of crumbs to find my way out?”
    â€œJust send up a flare and someone will rescue you.”
    â€œOkay.” She shook her head in awe. “The furniture is beautiful. I love the floral sofas and that shade of beige carpet,” she said. “This house is wonderful.”
    â€œWait till you see the backyard.”
    He grabbed her hand, just so he didn’t lose her again, he told himself. Certainly not because he was trying to keep her close. But he felt pretty good when she didn’t pull away. They walked through the dining room and kitchen, then out the back door onto the brick patio.
    â€œHi, everyone,” he said raising his hand in a wave.
    â€œJoey.” His mother got up from the glass-topped patio table and walked over to them. She gave him a hug, then smiled warmly at Liz.
    â€œMa, this is my friend, Liz Anderson. She works at the hospital where Rosie had Stephanie.”
    â€œI remember,” Flo said. “You’re practically a legend in this family the way you took care of Joe.”
    â€œIt was nothing,” Liz said with a grin.
    â€œDon’t encourage her, Ma. Liz and I ran into each other and she said she never gets to see the babies when they go home so I invited her to the party.”
    â€œFlorence Marchetti,” his mother said smiling warmly as she shook Liz’s hand.
    â€œIt’s a pleasure to see you again, Mrs. Marchetti,” Liz answered.
    â€œFlo please. And that’s Joe’s father, Tom. There’s the birthday girl digging in my garden,” she said ruefully.
    Joe saw his niece with her father hovering close by, laughing as she filled her chubby fists with dirt and tossed it in the air.
    â€œThe last time I saw her,” Liz said, “she was so tiny. Just look at her now. All that dark hair. And those wonderful curls. She’s adorable.”
    â€œPlease don’t look at her until I get her cleaned up.” Rosie had opened the door behind them just in time to hear what Liz said. She came out with a washcloth in her hand. “Hi, Liz.” His sister’s smile of greeting was genuinely friendly.
    â€œHi, Rosie,” Liz answered.
    â€œObviously you two need no introduction,” Joe said to his sister.
    â€œShe’s one unforgettable nurse. It’s not every day a woman her size can bounce you out of a hospital room. My hat’s off to you.”
    â€œYou, too?” Joe said. “My whole family is turning against me.”
    Ignoring him, Rosie said, “It’s nice to see you again, Liz.”
    â€œSame here,” Liz said laughing. “It looks as if we’ll be seeing you in my neck of the hospital woods