Kids Is A 4-Letter Word Read Online Free

“Stall them—I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
    “Jo, how was the Sterling appointment?”
    At that precise moment, Billy’s blankie slid to the floor. On cue, the toddler’s bottom lip jutted out, his head dropped back and he howled.
    “Jo? Do I hear a baby?”
    “Shh, shh,” Jo breathed to Billy, and switched the phone to her left shoulder. Keeping one hand on the wheel, and one eye on the road, Jo stretched as far as she could, but couldn’t reach the blanket without risking life and limb of everyone in the car.
    “Jo? Are you there?”
    Billy’s cries had reached a crescendo when he saw even Jo couldn’t get his blanket back. “Hattie,” Jo gasped. “I’ll be right there.” She slammed down the receiver and tried to console Billy, but he thrashed his arms in fury.
    Jo looked in the rearview mirror for help, but Claire had buried her nose in the new book. Without glancing up, the little girl did offer one morsel of wisdom.
    “He’s difficult.”
    Jamie seemed quietly preoccupied with making tortuous faces at the little girl in the car next to them. Both of the older children appeared adept at tuning out their little brother—an acquired skill, Jo noted.
    She welcomed the next red light, and used the-opportunity to unfasten her seat belt and retrieve the blanket, but Billy was wound up and not ready to relinquish his control over his captive audience. The car to her left honked and Jo looked over to see the woman passenger had rolled down her window. Jo frowned and did the same, only to hear the woman screech, “Can’t you control your own children? That boy of yours is scaring my Kathy.”
    Jo craned her neck in time to see Jamie cross his eyes at the little girl. “Jamie!” she admonished over Billy’s cries.
    “I’m Peter!”
    “Stop making faces!”
    Jamie glared, and sat back in a huff, then shouted, “Itsy, Bitsy Spider.”
    “What?” Jo asked, wincing at the decibels Billy reached.
    “Sing ‘Itsy, Bitsy Spider,’” Jamie yelled. “It’s Billy’s favorite.”
    Jo rolled her eyes, and declared, “I don’t sing.” But minutes later when Billy had turned blue from his efforts atbreaking the sound barrier, she sighed and started singing low and off-key.
    Billy stopped midscream and looked at Jo expectantly.
    “You gotta do the hand motions,” Jamie supplied in a bored voice.
    Jo leaned forward and slowly banged her forehead against the steering wheel.

2
    J OHN S TERLING shifted in his first-class seat, then folded a stick of sugarless gum into his mouth and began chewing to ease the pressure in his ears. Somewhere behind him in coach an infant started crying, and he hoped the mother knew enough to give it a bottle or a pacifier to suck on. An instant later, he bit down on his bottom lip and shook his head in self-recrimination. As if he were some parenting guru to dole out advice.
    The faces of his children passed through his mind—Claire and Billy so blond, Jamie as darkly redheaded as himself. His heart wheeled, as it always did when he thought of his rambunctious crew. Once the plane reached cruising altitude and the drink carts emerged, he inserted a credit card into the phone slot on the seat in front of him and released the receiver. Within a few seconds of dialing, the flat peal of his home phone sounded in his ear. After five rings, the recorder picked up and Jamie’s gruff little voice came on the line.
    “This is the Sterling house, home of the great Peter Pan. Leave a message at the beep and my daddy’ll call you back. Oh, and talk fast.”
    John smiled and injected extra cheer into his voice. “Hey, kids, it’s Dad. Just calling to see how things are going. I’m sure you’re being very good for Miss Michaels, because we’re lucky to have her and we really need to keep her around, right, guys? I’ll be home in time to tuck you in.” John swallowed. “Daddy loves you. Bye.”
    Surmising Miss Michaels had taken the kids to the park in the unusually warm