by Elsie Davis
“Not me. That was exhaustion from the trip kicking in. With kids around, you get sleep when you can, trust me.”
“I’ll have to remember that.” He slid out of his suit coat and loosened his tie. “I was just about to start a movie, but only because I was determined to stay up and wait for you. We need to talk.” She placed the movie back in the case.
He shot a quick glance around the room, suddenly tense. “What’s wrong?”
She frowned. “Nothing close to what you’re thinking. Relax.”
“Okay.” He let out a sigh of relief. If nothing had gone wrong the first day with his new family established in his home, then Garrett considered it a huge success. Cause for celebration, in fact. He poured a glass of wine and joined April in the living room.
“Thanks for all the groceries. Ted’s wife added a few things to the list, which was nice right about lunchtime.”
“I hadn’t thought that far in advance. I’m sorry.”
“Can I get you something to eat?” April asked.
“No, thanks. I had food delivered to the office. I’ve got a deal about to close, and it’s important I stay on top of it. After being gone, I had to play a bit of catch-up.” He crossed the room to the armchair at the right side of the couch and sat, loving the feel of the soft leather and comfortable cushions at the end of a long day.
Garrett took a sip of wine and glanced around the room. Something didn’t feel right. He cocked his head to one side and did another pass, trying to figure out what was wrong.
“What’s wrong? Did one of the kids leave something in the chair?” She got up immediately to help.
“No. It’s not that, but the chair’s been moved.” He nodded. “The question is, why?”
“The kids were probably playing. I don’t know.” She shrugged, as if it didn’t matter, and sat down.
“I don’t want things rearranged. I like them exactly as they are,” he retorted, his voice sharper than intended. His father had been a drill sergeant when it came to keeping everything neat and orderly, and Garrett had caught on fast. It was either that or punishment, something he’d quickly learned to dislike. To this day, when it came to his own personal space, he kept things the same, neat and orderly.
“Fine. Then move it back. You need to get used to having kids around. This is part of the deal.” April shrugged. She didn’t understand, and he wasn’t about to explain. The kids would have to adapt, it was the only possible solution. If he could do it when he was a kid, so could they.
He set his wineglass down on the coffee table and pushed the chair back where it belonged, anger filling him when he realized why it had been moved in the first place. “Is this part of the deal?” He scowled and pointed at the floor. A bright orange spot marred the light gray carpet. Orange juice was his guess.
April leaned over the edge of the sofa and cringed.
“I’m sorry, that would be my fault. It’s my juice. I must have left it out here, and the kids knocked it over. They must have been afraid to tell me and tried to cover it instead. I figured something was up when they were acting strange this morning, but I never figured it out.” She looked at him, her blue-green eyes full of remorse, making it hard to remain angry.
He let out a deep breath, biting back any comment he might let slip.
“I’ll clean it. Be right back.” She practically fled the room to the kitchen in search of cleaning supplies. He was grateful for the opportunity to get his emotions under control. It was just orange juice. It could be fixed.
April returned with paper towels and a bowl of warm water mixed with dish soap. She blotted the liquid stain until it was almost invisible and finished by dabbing at it with some of the water-soap mixture. “It’ll dry by tomorrow and be like new.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry if I snapped. I understand what you’re trying to tell me about kids and messes, but it’s not an adjustment that can happen overnight. I’m bound to lose my temper, but I’ll try not to let it get to me. It’s just that neat and orderly is my way of keeping things under control.” Garret tried to apologize but was making a mess of it.
“I didn’t say you couldn’t get irritated. It’s just how you handle it with the kids that counts. Learn to count to ten before you speak when the kids do something to provoke you. Give yourself ten seconds to process and adjust. Like you did just now with me. It worked.” Her smile was encouraging.
“I’ll try to remember that.” Garrett sat back in the chair. “What was it you wanted to talk to me about?”
“The kids and I are going to be bored sitting here day after day. We’re used to wide open spaces and going everywhere. I don’t know the first thing about the city, and I’m afraid to even attempt to take them anywhere.” She got up and walked over to the window. Neon lights lit up the black sky in every direction.
“Manhattan’s a fun place, and you’ll be fine. Central Park is just down the street from here. There’s the Statue of Liberty, the Empire State Building, an art museum, theaters, a library, restaurants, and shopping galore. You can do an internet search for details. And if you hail a taxi, they’ll stop and take you anywhere you want. A lot of people in the city don’t have cars.” He didn’t have time to take them around sightseeing. Maybe after the deal closed, but not now. The situation wasn’t ideal, but he hoped she was up to the challenge.
“Well, judging by the traffic out there, there’s plenty of people who do.”
He chuckled. “That’s New York.”
“I talked with the agency today, and they are sending several candidates out on Thursday. I’ve got a good feeling about this place.” April pulled her hair into a ponytail with a band from her wrist. The motion revealed the sleek length of her throat. Graceful and elegant came to mind.
“That’s wonderful news.” If it took her the full two weeks, it was okay by him. He kind of enjoyed coming home and having her here to talk to. “So how were the kids today aside from the orange juice fiasco?”
She shot him a sweet grin, revealing two dimples at the sides of her mouth and one on the chin. “Angels.” He’d always heard the one on the chin meant the devil within. Did that mean she meant the opposite of angels, or was she telling the truth?
“Proof you’re good at what you do. Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay?” He chuckled, determined to find out one way or the other.
“Not really, and no. When kids act strange, they are usually guilty of something. Goes along the line of—if things seem too good, they probably are.”
“Another of your rules regarding kids to live by?” She was a wealth of knowledge. The kind of stuff he couldn’t possibly learn in years.
“Yes. You should be writing these down,” April teased.
They talked for another thirty minutes before April yawned and realized how sleepy she was. “I should head to bed.”
“I was thinking the same thing, but you’re on my bed, making it hard for me to do.” He smirked.
“I’m sorry. It’s not fair. Maybe we could—”
“No.” He laughed. “On my bed, not in my bed. As in, you’re sitting on the sofa. So, unless you plan on sleeping with me on the sofa, you need to head to my room if you’re looking for a bed. Five a.m. comes early.”
“Sorry. I didn’t even think about that.” April stood and hurried out of the room, but not before he noticed the blush flooding her cheeks and throat.
Chapter Ten
Yesterday was like a scene out of Leave It To Beaver, the old black and white sitcom from the fifties and sixties. April had watched hundreds of episodes of the reruns. Mr. Cleaver arriving home every night after work right on time, June cleaning the house and fixing dinner, and the two kids getting into mischief but always learning something by the end of the day. Except in her case, Sandy made it three kids, and April found more than her share of mischief.
She’d managed to keep the kids occupied with reading and drawing and movies, and she taught them how to make pancakes, which they loved. Garrett h
ad surprised her by coming home on time, and it had been a pleasant evening watching movies and eating popcorn. The day had been a success.
They’d been like one big happy family. But they were running out of things to do, and she needed to convince Garrett to take them out, at least so April could get more comfortable.
Wade arrived right on time and took Rufus for his walk, getting the dog out from underfoot so she could set the table for breakfast. She made a pot of coffee, as much for the candidates as for herself. This was one of those mornings she was making another exception. Caffeine was the only antidote to the exhaustion of trying to keep the kids safely entertained in a posh penthouse more suited for a photoshoot than kids. If she wasn’t careful, it might actually become a habit.
Sandy woke up right on schedule. April helped her get dressed and then situated for breakfast. Still having to help her with the spoon meant the meal took longer, but Sandy was getting better and better every day. April continued to talk as she fed Sandy, hoping to bring her out of the shell she’d retreated into.
April glanced at her watch. The other kids should have been up by now. And she still needed to get them ready. Sandy pushed her bowl away.
“All done, sweetie?” April washed her hands and face and set her down. “Why don’t you play with your dolls while I get Bryan and Melanie up.” Sandy understood everything and nodded.
They walked out of the kitchen to discover Bryan was already awake.
“Hey, I didn’t know you were up yet. You’ve got to get dressed and eat. And I thought we talked about this.” April pointed to the coloring book and crayons on the coffee table. “This is only to be done at the kitchen table. You need to pick those up right now and then eat.
“I like coloring here. I can look out the window and pretend Superman is flying by. Or Spiderman comes crawling across the window.” The animation on Bryan’s face made it hard to stay mad at him for disobeying the rules.
“I understand, I do. But please, pick everything up. I’ve got to wake your sister. The first candidate for the nanny position will be here in about forty-five minutes.”
“We don’t need anyone else. You could stay. None of us want anyone else.”
“I’m sorry, Bryan. I’ve got to head back to Hallbrook and start my college classes. I can’t teach if I don’t graduate. Try to understand, I care about you all, I do, but this is a chance for me to finish school and teach children, something I’ve always dreamed of doing.” She ruffled his hair, trying to let him down gently.
“Okay,” he mumbled, the tone of the single word in direct opposition to the word itself. In his world, April leaving wasn’t fine. And she understood. They’d been through a lot of changes. As soon as he started to gather up the crayons and put them in the box, she left to wake Melanie, satisfied to see Sandy playing in the corner.
It took a bit of doing, but finally, the two older kids were eating breakfast. Thirty minutes to go, and she had just enough time to clean up the dishes. As she rounded the bend to the living room to check on Sandy, the sight that greeted her made her stop short. “No!” Sandy looked up with wide-eyed innocence. April flinched as she drew close enough to assess the damage. Red lines in every direction were haphazardly drawn on the cushions of Garrett’s Italian leather sofa that he’d had flown here from Italy.
She raced forward and took the crayon from Sandy. “We don’t draw on the furniture, Sandy. This was wrong.” Huge crocodile tears formed, and Sandy started to cry.
“Bryan, get out here.”
“What’s wrong,” he asked, his mouth forming a wide O when he spotted Sandy’s artwork.
“I thought you picked your crayons up?”
“I did, but I couldn’t find the red one. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry won’t cut it if we can’t fix this. We need to work on this together.”
Melanie came to see what was going on. “Mr. Garrett is going to kill you.”
“That’s enough, Melanie. He’s not going to kill anybody.” At least she hoped he wouldn’t. “Bryan and Melanie, take care of cleaning up the kitchen, and I’ll see what I can do here.” April picked up Sandy, feeling guilty for yelling at her. “I’m sorry I yelled, honey. We don’t draw on the furniture. Okay?”
Sandy nodded. April took the crayon from her, relieved to discover it was washable. She set Sandy down and went in search of a rag to clean the cushion. Hopefully, a damp cloth wouldn’t ruin the leather, but she had to get the glaring red marks off before the first interviewee showed up. It wouldn’t do for the woman to turn tail and run if she thought the kids were out of control. And then there was Garrett. April shuddered to think what he would say if he walked in to discover the mess.
He’d have every reason to be angry—but at her. She was the one who should have been watching Sandy closer. Or making sure Bryan had picked up every color. It was always her fault. Always. It was something she’d grown used to. Garrett would fire her, the same way her foster parents had gotten rid of her.
April rubbed gently, letting out a deep breath as the red wiped off until all except the barest hint of the lines remained. She rubbed harder but was afraid to damage the leather. It appeared the crayon was washable on washable surfaces, but it was clinging to the fibers where it was deeply embedded.
Sandy had gone back to playing with her toys while the older kids finished with the dishes. April tried to search the internet for ways to get crayon out, but she was out of time. The first interviewee was due any minute.
The doorbell buzzed at nine a.m., right on the nose. The woman must’ve been standing outside in the foyer, waiting for that to happen. Give the woman a mental check for punctuality. She opened the door, pleasantly surprised. Mid-fifties and dressed in a blue suit coat with a matching knee-length skirt and a white blouse, she appeared not only efficient, but kind, and a take-charge kind of person.
“Hello. My name is April. And you must be Helena Cordell.”
“Yes. It’s nice to meet you.” The woman took her hand in a firm handshake, exuding the confidence April appreciated.
“Come in, come in.” April gestured for her to enter. “Would you like some coffee?”
“That would be nice, thank you.”
“Just have a seat, I’ll be right out.” April directed her to the living room, urging the woman to sit in the armchair.
Helena ignored her suggestion and sat on the sofa. “It will be easier for me to take notes on the coffee table. I think I’ll sit right here.”
April poured two cups of coffee and made her way back to the living room, hoping the woman hadn’t noticed the faint red lines.
“I see you’ve had a bit of a problem with crayon. Let me guess, the three-year-old?” Helena smiled. So much for not noticing. At least she was still smiling.
“Yes. Her brother accidentally missed a crayon when he was picking up. Luckily, she only managed a few scribbles before I stopped her. Thank goodness, they were washable crayons. But apparently, leather doesn’t understand the meaning of the word washable.” April grimaced, handing Helena her cup of coffee.
“Apparently, neither do quite a few fabrics. I think the box should come with a warning label. But you should try degreasing detergent with a toothbrush. It will get down into the fibers and release the waxy crayon. Just be sure to wipe it clean of the soapy residue and then dry it.” Helena came equipped with tips, and April couldn’t be more grateful.
“Oh, what a fantastic idea. Thank you. It just happened, and I was searching the internet to come up with a few ideas, but none so far so as logical as yours.” April couldn’t wait to try it out—before Garrett arrived home. It was barely noticeable, but she imagined to a man such as Garrett, it would be like a parakeet repeating the words “not perfect, not perfect” over and over it until it drove him crazy.
“Trust me, it comes with years of experience with children. I just love the darlings, but sometimes they just get into mischief.” The woman shot her a half-smile with an odd snort as if remem
bering other charges prone to a wild side of trouble.
“I’m so glad to hear you say that.” The woman just kept checking off all the mental boxes April was looking for in a nanny-housekeeper. If the other two were as suitable as this woman, she’d have a hard time picking one.
By the end of the interview, April was positive Helena was perfect. The children met her and seemed to approve of her well enough, other than the fact they’d both made it perfectly clear they’d rather April stay instead. Bryan, of course, didn’t even think he needed a nanny, but Helena had made him realize how her being there would make it easier on him. The woman was a genius.
“I’ve got to interview two others today, but I hope to be able to get back to the agency later today and let you know.”
Woof. Woof.
“What was that?” Helena asked, a frown creasing her face.
“That’s Rufus. I left him in the bedroom, but it sounds as though I need to let him out. He won’t stop barking otherwise. Besides, you should meet him.”
April hurried down the hall and opened the door. Rufus barreled out, eager to check out their guest. It wasn’t the best way for the two of them to meet, but meet they would, if the result of today’s interviews ended the way she planned.
“Oh my.” Helena stood, clutching her purse to her chest. “Nobody mentioned anything about a dog.”
Rufus barked.
“No, Rufus. Lay down. I told the agency there was a dog.” April sensed there was a problem. The woman’s expression was no longer friendly and warm.
“I’m sorry, there seems to have been some misunderstanding. I take care of children, not dogs.” Helena shook her head and started for the door, leaving April to follow.
“Surely we can work something out. I think you’d be perfect.” April hadn’t meant to show her cards too soon, and now she was losing the perfect candidate. The solution was slipping away, and there was nothing she could do about it.
