The Nanny Proposal

by Donna Clayton

Again, the air in the room seemed to close in on her. She wanted desperately to look into his eyes forever. She wanted just as desperately to look away.

  “Now,” he murmured, “let’s get to that turkey before my daughter wakes up.”

  Greg made it a practice to cook his stuffing in a casserole dish as opposed to inside the turkey, so he had her season the cavity with salt and pepper and a crushed garlic clove. Then he instructed her to fill the bird with a halved onion, a halved orange and some celery stalks, explaining that the fruit and veggies would keep the meat moist as well as impart a delicious flavor.

  He helped her lift the turkey into a huge roasting pan and then he had her smear the outside skin with butter. On top of that, she sprinkled some savory spices. Because Jane’s fingers were now a glistening, spicy mess, Greg popped the lid onto the roaster and shoved the pan into the oven.

  “We’ll start basting in a couple of hours.”

  She washed the butter from her hands. “Where did you learn all this?”

  “How to cook a turkey?” he asked.

  “Yes. Don’t most bachelors eat out?”

  He cast her a wide-eyed, openmouthed look of horror. “Eating Thanksgiving dinner in a restaurant would be sacrilegious!”

  Jane laughed at his antics.

  As she dried her hands, she heard sounds coming from the monitor that told her Joy was awake and playing happily in her crib.

  “Do you hear that?” she told Greg. And they spent several seconds listening to Joy gurgle and coo to herself.

  “You know,” Jane said, “no parent could ask for a more good-natured baby.”

  She was staring at the monitor, so when his mouth descended on hers, she was taken completely by surprise. His kiss was swift, but sound. And when he pulled back from her, she was as wide-eyed as he had been just a moment before.

  “I’d like to be able to say that’s a thank you,” he said, his tone silky, warm and sweet as maple syrup. “I’d like to say it’s for loving my daughter as much as I do. But…”

  He paused, the sheer intensity of his gaze pinning her to the spot for another moment or two before he continued.

  When he did speak, his tone was hushed. “But that would only be half the truth.”

  And then he left her standing there feeling terribly excited, her thoughts chaotic, as she pondered the meaning behind his words.

  Greg’s apartment had always seemed large to Jane with its three bedrooms, two bathrooms, formal dining room, large living area and kitchen. But with Travis, Sloan and his nearly teenaged triplets, Rachel, plus Greg, Joy and Jane, the apartment seemed cramped. However, it wasn’t unpleasant. Not by any stretch of the imagination. Sloan’s daughters played with Joy, read her books and made castles out of wooden blocks for her. The men enjoyed a beer, Rachel and Jane a glass of wine, as everyone talked and laughed and joked together.

  These people were so nice, and they treated her well. As if she’d always been one of them.

  “So, Travis,” Greg said to his friend, “any word on the adoption?”

  “Yes.”

  Travis showed clear signs of his Native American heritage in his piercing coal-black eyes and his prominent and high cheekbones. His hair was longer than what was conventional, but he kept it tied back in a neat ponytail. The man’s gaze lit up when Greg asked him about the adoption.

  “The council has requested another meeting.” Sudden anxiety clouded his handsome features. “I hate to get my hopes up, but I really would like to have Jared and Josh home for Christmas.”

  “I think it’s a wonderful thing that you’re doing,” Rachel said. “You’ve spent so much time with the boys…gone out of your way to help them. I don’t understand why that…committee, or whatever it is, doesn’t see how hard you’ve worked.”

  Greg caught Jane’s attention. “Travis made it possible for the boys to have heart surgery a few years ago,” he told her. “He’s kept in touch with them, and now he’s decided he’d like to adopt.”

  “That’s marvelous, Travis.” She wasn’t able to keep the awe out of her voice. Well, that was okay, she figured. He was endeavoring on an awesome task.

  Travis smiled. “They’re pretty marvelous kids. I just hope the Kolheek Council of Elders will allow me to become the boys’ father.” His gaze scanned them all. “I’ll be leaving for the reservation next week.”

  “I’ll be happy to cover for you,” Greg offered.

  Sloan added, “You know I’ll pitch in, too.”

  Jane felt warm inside. Never in her life had she experienced or even witnessed this kind of closeness between people. Concentrating on simply surviving had kept her from developing any real friends.

  Your sister should be a friend. The thought whispered through her head, haunting and painful. But Jane shoved it away. She didn’t want to spend one second of this wonderful day pondering regrets.

  “Dad?”

  Sloan turned to face one of his daughters. When they had first arrived, the girls had introduced themselves, but they looked so much alike, Jane would have been hard-pressed to guess which was Sophie, which was Sydney and which was Sasha. But evidently Sloan didn’t have that problem.

  “Yes, Sydney?”

  “Can we paint the baby’s fingernails?” the girl asked.

  “Absolutely not!” Sloan stood, a frown marring his brow. “I don’t allow you to paint your own fingernails. Why would I allow you to paint Joy’s? What are you doing with fingernail polish, anyway?”

  “Take a chill pill, Dad,” Sydney said. “If you don’t want me to do it, I won’t.” She shrugged. “No big deal.”

  “It is a big deal, young lady,” he scolded. “Bring that bottle of polish to me. Now.”

  Sydney did as she was told, heaving a huge, melodramatic sigh that only an adolescent on the verge of being a teen could.

  Out of Sloan’s line of vision, Jane saw one of Sydney’s sisters stealthily slip something—Jane suspected it was yet another bottle of nail polish—into her small leather shoulder bag. Jane looked at Rachel, who seemed to be sending a silent message to the child with an intent “put that away quick” gaze.

  “You didn’t answer me, young lady,” Sloan said. “Where did you get this?”

  “I bought it with my allowance.”

  “Sloan—” Rachel spoke up “—Sydney did ask permission. From me. She bought it when I took the girls shopping this past weekend.”

  A moment of awkward silence ensued.

  Then Sloan softly said, “B-but you were only supposed to be looking for those…those hair things—”

  “Barrettes, Daddy.” Another sigh erupted from Sydney. “Those hair things are called barrettes. And I don’t see why we can’t paint our nails. Rachel made me pick out a light color. We’re going to be thirteen in just a couple of months.”

  “Yeah, Dad,” one of the other girls added in.

  “Yeah.” The third sister stifled a snicker.

  Oh, boy, Jane thought. Having one daughter on the threshold of her teen years would be bad enough, but it was clear that Sloan was going to have his hands full with his triplets. Especially when the three of them were obviously smart enough to realize that a unified front was a strong front.

  Sloan’s handsome features transformed into what could be described in no other way than a “daddy face.” One eyebrow cocked, lips pursed. The change shouted a silent warning that Jane certainly would have heeded had she been one of the girls. However, none of the children seemed to be the least concerned with or deterred by their father’s stern expression.

  Sydney continued, “Geez, all the other girls at school paint their nails and wear lip gloss.”

  “I’m not concerned with the other girls at school,” Sloan said, his tone clear evidence that he was doing his utmost to control his response to his daughter’s argument. “First off, Rachel shouldn’t have given permission for you to buy the polish without checking with me first.”

  Rachel looked utterly miserable. “I realize that
now.” Her words were nearly whispered. “And I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be mad at Rachel,” Sydney said, her tone seeming to be nudging toward a battle. “She’s only trying to help us tear free of your control freak clutches.”

  With her eyes wide with silent horror, Rachel remained mute as she lifted her hand and pressed her palm to the base of her throat. Sympathy for the woman welled up inside Jane. She wished there was something she could say to alleviate the evergrowing tension of the situation. But she’d just met these people. Didn’t know them well enough to butt into their business. Particularly in something as momentous as this—challenged parental control.

  Sloan’s frown deepened as he looked at his young daughter. Quietly but firmly, he said, “This is not the place to discuss this.”

  “That’s right,” Greg interjected. “This is a day of celebration. And I think dinner is just about ready. Jane, maybe you, Rachel and the girls can set the table while I make the gravy and check the rolls.”

  Relief flooded Jane. She could have kissed Greg for diverting everyone’s attention. But since she couldn’t kiss the man in front of his friends, she settled for sending him a grateful glance.

  Greg tossed her a sexy grin and left for the kitchen, enlisting Travis’s help. But before Jane could even make a move toward the dining room, she witnessed something extraordinary.

  All three of the girls gathered around Sloan, hugging him around the waist.

  “Don’t be mad at us, Daddy,” one of his daughters said, gazing up into his face.

  “And don’t be mad at Rachel,” another one added.

  The third pressed her face against her dad’s biceps. “We love you, Daddy.”

  The tension in the air—and on Sloan’s face—dissipated as quickly as it had surfaced.

  Rachel came to stand within a foot of the father-daughters hug-fest. “And I really am sorry.”

  Something shone in the woman’s eyes…some-thing profound, something that hinted to Jane that Rachel harbored deep feelings for Sloan.

  “It’s okay,” he told Rachel.

  The tender concern expressed in the woman’s eyes only intensified, but Jane was sure Sloan had missed it, as he’d immediately turned his attention back to his daughters.

  “I love you, too,” he told the girls. “And I’m not angry. I just need you to know that…I’m only trying to…”

  He sighed as, evidently, the difficult words seemed to fail him.

  “I just think your mom would be so upset to know that you guys are trying to…to grow up too quickly.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t like to think she might be looking down from heaven feeling disappointed in how I’m raising the three of you.”

  Jane noticed that several things happened at once: everyone’s gazes averted at the mention of the deceased woman, Sloan’s voice trailed in a strangle as he grew all misty-eyed, and Rachel suddenly looked distressed beyond measure.

  As much as Rachel’s face revealed her feelings for Sloan and his girls, it was also just as clear that he seemed oblivious to the woman’s feelings for him and the children.

  The moment had simply grown too awkward for Jane to bear, and because Greg had already disappeared into the kitchen with Travis, she forced herself to reach out to touch Rachel on the sleeve. Quietly, Jane said, “Let’s go set the table.”

  Rachel nodded, and the girls seemed eager to escape the tight and uncomfortable scene that had somehow developed in the living room.

  Scooping up Joy into her arms, Jane followed Rachel and the girls into the dining room. However, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for Sloan as he stood there all alone with grief that was all too raw and exposed.

  Festiveness and fun quickly returned to the afternoon when everyone sat down together at the dinner table. Another great tradition was revealed as each person present was asked by Greg what it was that he or she was most thankful for.

  “Well, even though nothing is final yet,” Travis was quick to say, “I’m very thankful for the opportunity to try to adopt Josh and Jared.” The man’s voice softened as he added, “I just hope I have them home by Christmas.”

  “It’ll happen,” Greg assured him.

  Jane, Sloan and everyone else couldn’t keep from nodding in agreement and encouragement.

  Rachel softly said, “I’m very grateful for my job. And for the fact that all of you are willing to put up with me during holidays.”

  “Uh-oh.” Greg’s tone took on a teasing quality. “Our normally calm, cool and collected office manager is being downright silly.”

  His laughter had everyone chuckling, too. And he had Rachel coloring prettily.

  “We’re grateful that you run the office so well, Rachel,” Greg said. “Aren’t we, guys?”

  Travis said, “Absolutely.”

  Sloan merely smiled and nodded.

  Jane wanted to smack Sloan for not complimenting Rachel when he had this perfect chance. The man’s head must be thick as concrete.

  “And as for us putting up with you,” Greg continued. “Well, I say you’re one of the family. Right, everyone?”

  The girls shouted “Yes!” in unison and then broke up into gales of laughter.

  “I’m grateful for my giggling girls,” Sloan said. “How about you, Sasha? What are you thankful for?”

  Sasha had only had a split second to contemplate her answer when one of her sisters shouted, “Sasha’s thankful for the telephone.”

  “Yeah,” the other sister concurred. “We’re looking into making her life simpler by sewing the receiver to her ear.”

  Sophie and Sydney shared a look and then snickered at their sibling.

  Sasha was clearly incensed. “Well, Sophie, everyone knows you’re thankful for Bobby Snyders.”

  Sophie gasped in horror.

  “And Sydney,” Sasha continued, “is thankful that Rachel promised to take her shopping for an over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder. Even though she has no boulders yet.”

  Sydney was just as mortified as Sophie now. Sloan just seemed confused. It was Rachel who cleared up everyone’s bewilderment when she silently mouthed the word bra to the adults. The color seemed to drain from Sloan’s face.

  Jane sensed another awkward moment fast approaching. To head it off, she said, “Do I get a chance to be thankful?”

  All eyes were on her as she hadn’t said much during the meal.

  “I am very grateful to be spending this holiday with Joy,” Jane said. Emotion welled up from seemingly nowhere, but she plowed ahead. “She is definitely the…light of my life.” Looking at Greg, Jane lifted her water glass toward him. “I offer you a toast, Greg. In appreciation. I thank you for allowing me the privilege of being your daughter’s nanny.”

  “Hear, hear.” Travis raised his glass, too. And, one by one, so did everyone else.

  They sipped to Jane’s toast, and when things settled down once more, it was Greg’s turn to speak.

  He began slowly, his voice quavering with emotion. “I think I’m more thankful this year than in any year past. I have a daughter. A gorgeous baby who has changed my whole life for the better. And for her—for Joy—I am more appreciative than words can express.”

  Travis and Sloan refused to allow their friend to bask in this somber moment for long. After just a couple seconds, they razzed him something fierce about his sentimentality. Greg absorbed the good-natured ribbing with humor, and soon the table broke up into several smaller conversations as everyone began enjoying their dinner.

  The turkey was succulent, the mashed potatoes smooth and rich with butter, the stuffing, delicious. Sloan fussed at the girls for playing with their food, and Travis and Rachel talked about some work-related topic.

  Greg curled his fingers around Jane’s wrist and leaned close to her. For her ears alone, he whispered, “Words can’t express how much I appreciate you and the help you’ve given me, either.”

  Heat built inside her, starting down at the very bottoms of her feet, and it swelled quick
ly to fill her to the brim.

  “Thanks,” she murmured, not knowing what else to say.

  “Jane—” Sloan’s voice made her start “—did you know that Greg tested out of high school in the eleventh grade?”

  Her eyebrows raised. “Wow.” She looked at Greg. “That’s impressive.”

  “Ah—” he waved aside the compliment “—it was nothing.”

  “His mom had to fight the whole school system to get him the privilege of taking that test,” Travis said. He chuckled. “She threatened to sue them.”

  Jane looked wide-eyed at Greg for confirmation. He laughed.

  “That was my mom.” His grin got bigger. “She was tiny, but was a barracuda when she had to be. Besides, I had enough credits to graduate. The school board was just being difficult.”

  “Greg and I have been friends since grade school.” Travis spooned out a second helping of sweet-potato casserole. “Sloan is the old man of the group. We didn’t meet him until med school.”

  “Now, now,” Sloan said, “let’s not start this again.” He leveled his gaze on Jane. “Can I be blamed for getting married young and having kids before realizing I wanted to become a doctor?”

  “Absolutely not.” Jane knew that’s the answer Sloan was looking for.

  “See there. Jane’s on my side.” He winked at her. “Smart woman.”

  And that’s the way the day went. Joking, storytelling, laughing. Jane had the time of her life.

  “The whole day was perfect, don’t you think?”

  Jane sipped a glass of wine in front of the hearth. The fire was burning itself out. But the embers still glowed, hot and inviting. Greg’s guests had gone home about thirty minutes ago, and Joy had been asleep for more than an hour. The dishes were washed, the food put away, and all that was left to do was reminisce about the successful gathering.

  “It sure was,” Greg said. “It’s always fun. Our holidays together.”

  Instinctively, Jane knew he was speaking of his celebration dinners with Travis, Rachel, Sloan and the girls.

  “I like your friends. Very much.”

  But it was evident from the look in his green gaze that Travis, Sloan and the others were not what he wanted to talk about.