When I woke up the next morning, I heard the girls padding around, knowing it wouldn't be long before they would come to my room, looking for me. I loudly whispered Harold's name, trying to wake him up. I didn't want to have to explain to the girls why Mr. Styles was in my bed. He began to awaken slowly, but  I whispered again, “The girls!” He knew exactly what I meant and practically leapt out of the bed.

“Um, go into the bathroom!” I told him. Then I quickly intercepted the girls in the hallway and herded them to the kitchen.

“Let's make some waffles for breakfast!” I told them excitedly. I instructed them to begin getting out the mixing bowls and utensils. I quickly went back to my room and let Harold out of the bathroom.

“I'm so sorry. That was probably really rude of me. I just didn't want the girls to-”

“It's all right, Lise. I'm a parent, too. I know you have to set a good example for your children.” His reassurance made me feel better.

“Would you like to stay for breakfast? I will tell the girls you stayed in the guest room.”

“Certainly. You're the best cook I know.”

“I'm the only cook you know here!” I countered.

I entered the kitchen and carefully explained, “Mr. Styles slept in the guest room last night after the alarm went off. He wanted to make sure we were safe. Wasn't that nice of him?”

“Yeah! Mr. Styles!” Rory and Grace began jumping up and cheering. “Yeah! You scared away the bad guys! You're a hero!”

I chuckled but then I felt it important to clarify, “Girls, there was no bad guy. You know how we had a big storm last night?” They nodded. “Well, the wind made our house alarm go off. The police came and said we were all safe. Mr. Styles just stayed to make extra sure.”

But then they started jumping up and down again chanting, “Hero! Hero!”

I just laughed and told him, “You have a fan club.”

I speedily mixed up the waffle batter and heated up the waffle iron. Then I started a pot of coffee brewing.

By the time the waffles were done, the coffee was ready and we all had a seat. We had just begun eating when I heard Rachael crying. It never failed. I hardly ever ate a warm meal, but I didn't complain much. It was almost funny that I could predict the children's needs better than my own.

“Would you mind if I get her?” Harold asked. “That way you can eat before you have to feed her.”

“Sure,” I replied hesitantly, not knowing if she would be happy to see Mr. Styles coming to get her instead of me.

But when he returned holding my sweet baby in his arms, she was all smiles.

“Mommy!” Aurora screeched in excitement. “Mr. Styles can be our new daddy!”

At that moment, I'm quite sure that my face became the color of a fire engine. Harold just looked down at the floor with a funny little smirk on his face.

When I regained my composure, I stuttered, “Rory, honey, Mr. Styles is a good friend, but he has his own family. He's just helping us out a lot.”

“And your mummy is helping me a lot, too,” Harold chimed in.

“Okay,” Aurora said, her face falling. I couldn't exactly tell, but I think she looked a little disappointed.

After breakfast, I sat the girls in front of their favorite morning cartoon show so that I could clean up. Harold informed me that he was going to go home. As I walked him to the door, I felt a little awkward about the last twelve hours.

“Thank you so much for coming to help last night. It feels good knowing someone cares about us. I'm just a little embarrassed about having you sleep over and, well...I just hope we didn't make you uncomfortable.”

He pulled me into a warm hug and said, “Nonsense. I'm glad to help in any way I can, especially after all you've done for me. No more worrying, okay?”

“Okay,” I smiled, pulling away from the hug.

He leaned in again just to kiss my forehead. “Have a good day, Lise.”

"Thanks, you too.” I closed the door behind him and glanced at the time. It was after 9:00 AM already and my mom would be here any minute to watch the girls. I wouldn't have time for a shower before work, that's for sure. I raced to my room and changed into a nice pair of slacks with a sleeveless top, and then I grabbed a lightweight blazer to complete the outfit. I rushed into the bathroom and threw on some makeup, ran a brush through my hair and voila! I was ready for work. It used to take me hours to get ready to go anywhere, but since I had children, I could get ready in 15 minutes. It was a handy skill to have.

I didn't have time to tell my mom about the previous night's excitement, but as soon as I got to work, I sent my sister a quick email.

Maggie,

Can you come to my house after work tonight? I need your advice!!!

<3 Lise

My sister's name is Margaret, after my great grandmother, but we never called her that. She had been Maggie for as long as I could remember. I can't imagine how my parents decided that was a good name, but the nickname has worked out just fine.

I began reading my work emails, making appointments and jotting things on my to do list. Before long, Maggie returned my message with a quick:

Lise,

Sure, I'll be there at 6:00.

<3 Maggie

As an afterthought, I called my dad to ask if he could help me by either tightening up the front door or replacing it. He said he could come by tonight to look at it.

Then I really got to work, knowing I had several clients who were looking to buy houses relatively soon.

The afternoon flew by. When I returned home, my girls greeted me with happy hugs as always. But my mom had a suspicious look on her face. Rachael snuggled against my neck while the other girls went back to playing with Play-Dough at the table.

My mom gingerly stated, “Your girls said that Mr. Styles spent the night here last night....”

“Oh...” I laughed. I'm sure it sounded terrible, especially since I hadn't had a chance to explain in my rush this morning. “It's not what it sounds like, Mom. There was a bad storm, the security alarm went off, and he came over to make sure we were okay.”

“And? He spent the night?” She asked, not really accusing me, but she didn't sound very happy either.

“Mom, I was terrified. And he offered to stay. Really. Nothing else happened, okay?”

“Okay.” She started to smile. “At least he slept in the guest room.”

I nodded awkwardly. Of course he did, I thought.

I was so lucky to have my mom watching my kids while I went to work. I couldn't imagine having to drop them off at daycare, and I'd always made just enough to only have to work 20-30 hours per week. But I was also thankful because it meant she was there for me, too. I could talk to my mom about anything and I trusted her advice.

After my mom filled me in on the day's events with my children, my father arrived to fix the door.

My kids came running and yelling like banshees, “Grandpa! Grandpa!” He picked the girls up one by one and gave them big smooches and tummy tickles. He really was the number one man in their lives, and I was happy to have him around so much.

As soon as he was done greeting the girls, he said, “How's my big girl?” and he gave me a squeeze.

“Doing okay, Dad, but like I said, we didn't get much sleep last night. That wind really rattled the house and it set off the burglar alarm. It was kind of a scary night.”

I asked Mom and Dad if they wanted to have dinner with us since Maggie was coming over, too. When they accepted, I called Maggie and asked if she'd pick up some pizzas on the way and I told her I would pay her back.

Maggie arrived at 6:00 PM on the dot with pizzas in her hand.

I carried the pizzas into the kitchen and called to the girls, “Look who's here now!”

They came running in and squealed when they saw my sister. “Aunt Maggie!” I got out some paper plates, scooped Rachael up from her play mat and we all sat down to dig in to the twin cities' best pizza, Davanni's. The girls happily chatted with Aunt Maggie about swimming and play-dough and Sesame Street and all the things that matter to little girls.

Maggie was happy to indulge them. She and her husband Jim had been married a few years and had only recently started thinking about having children. My girls were the first grandbabies in the family, and thus received all the doting from the grandparents and my siblings.

About halfway through dinner, there was another knock on the front door. “Grand Central Station,” I said, laughing and got up to answer it. There stood Harold, looking just as handsome as ever.

“Come in and have some pizza,” I told him.

He gladly accepted and after I'd made all the introductions, he said, “I just wanted to find out if you need help fixing your door.”

“Help has already arrived,” I smiled, motioning to my dad. “He's going to look at it after dinner. My dad can fix just about anything,” I said proudly.

“Well, that's good, because I don't really know the first thing about hardware,” he said while all of us erupted in laughter.

“So, why did you offer to help then?” I asked, trying to stop laughing.

“Well, I was going to offer to hire someone to fix it for you,” he said, stifling a small smile himself. “But I can see you've already got the situation in hand.”

Harold chatted with my parents and Maggie while we finished dinner, but he excused himself shortly thereafter.

It didn't take long for my dad to find the problem with my front door. He tightened up a few screws and it seemed as good as new.

Before leaving, my dad said, “Your neighbor seems like a very friendly person. Just be careful, okay?”

I gave him a strange look and then turned to hug my mom.

“Don't listen to him,” she said. “He's just worried about you after what happened with Eric.”

“No,” my dad insisted. “Of course, I worry about you, honey, but I just get a weird feeling from that guy. I don't know if you can trust him.”

“Okay, Dad,” I said just to placate him, but I still believed that Harold was harmless. I hugged him one more time and then waved good-bye to both of them.

Maggie offered to give Grace and Aurora their baths while I nursed Rachael and put her to bed. Of course, I accepted, not usually having the luxury of only putting one child down to sleep.

I must have dozed while nursing the baby, because I didn't even hear Maggie come into my room. I felt the bed dip down and my eyes popped open. I got up and put Rachael in her crib and crawled back onto my bed next to my big sister.

“So?” She asked excitedly.

“So, what?” I asked, teasing. I was the one who invited her over so she knew I had something juicy to talk about.

"Who's Mr. Styles???” She asked.

“Well, you already met him,” I teased.

“Yeah, the girls couldn't stop talking about him, how he came over and saved you from the bad guys and then slept over. I'm very interested in hearing this story, sis!”

I laughed out loud at my daughters' penchant for blowing things out of proportion. “You heard the story about last night, how the alarm went off and he came over to make sure everything was all right. After the police left, he offered to stay and I gladly accepted because I was really freaked out. What I didn't tell Mom was that he actually didn't sleep in the guest room...he slept in my bed.”

My sister gave me a crazy look, clearly waiting for more information.

"I was scared, so he held me. That's all!” I told her everything about Harold, everything that I knew, anyway. “But Dad just told me that Harold gives him a weird vibe. Like Dad doesn't know if I can trust him. Do you get that feeling from Harold?”

“Not at all,” she responded. “You know Dad, Mr. Overprotective.” It's true, our dad had always been kind of a bulldog when it came to protecting his girls. “But if you really want to get a good reading on him, you should introduce him to Ryan.”

Ryan was our older brother. If my dad was a bulldog, then Ryan was a pitbull. He was never one to tease his little sisters. No, on the contrary, he insisted on accompanying us everywhere and defending us against every enemy until we were at least 12 or 13. And when boys came into the picture, watch out. He told Mom and Dad, in no uncertain terms that, not only was he willing to chaperone our dates, he also wouldn't think twice about breaking a few knee caps if any boy ever messed with us.

Finally I told her, “I think I like him.” I curled my lip a little, wondering how my sister would react to everything I just told her.

“Well, I say, go for it!” She giggled.

“Did you hear me say that he's 39? And he's only here for five years? And that he's from England?”

“Yes, I heard all that. So what if he's 11 years older than you? You're both adults. That shouldn't matter at all. After dealing with that deadbeat ex-husband of yours, you deserve to indulge yourself.”

I cringed a little at the word indulge, as if we were talking about eating something decadent rather than about dating a guy.

"But I have to be responsible, too, Maggie. I can't just have a fling and hope it won't affect the girls. They already think he'd make a good Daddy. I don't want to start dating him only to find out that we're not compatible and then have the girls think that another father figure is abandoning them."

“Lise, do you hear yourself? You're talking about dating the guy, not moving in with him or marrying him! Just take it slow and decide for yourself. If the girls already think he's 'Daddy material,' then they have their mind set on that, even if you don't start dating him, right?. But if you do start dating him, you can keep it on the down low and tell them that he's just a friend, until you know for sure. Your girls are smart, but they don't know everything. They will believe what you tell them, and what they see.”

I nodded, absorbing Maggie's thorough examination of the situation. “I don't even know if he wants to go out with me. But he did tell me I'm beautiful. And amazing. And strong.”

“There you go. I'm sure it's only a matter of time before he asks you on a proper date,” she told me, trying to pronounce the last few words in an English accent.

“Thanks, Maggie. What would I do without you?” I hugged her and she got ready to leave.

I walked her to the door and then she turned to me with one last request. “If you marry this guy, tell him he has to move here permanently because there's no way I'm letting you move to England!”

I laughed and shooed her out the door. Then I put on my pajamas and climbed into bed, a smile slowly creeping across my face as I considered the possibilities of Harold...and me.