Robin nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
After he left, she went to check on the children again. Aaron tossed restlessly, and Robin sat beside him for a while. Gradually his breathing calmed.
A swell of tenderness washed over her as she watched him. How did the children manage to resemble angels while asleep when they could be such imps during the day?
Walking from the boys' bedroom to Caitlin's, Robin again sensed how powerful the connection was between her and the children. She would give her life to save them from danger. I may not be their mother in the conventional sense, but I sure feel like I am.
She wished she understood why Flint kept retreating. Every time he started to open up, he flipped right back into defense mode.
Gazing at Caitlin, so innocent in slumber, Robin thought of the warmth Flint was capable of showing. That night when they'd danced and made love, he hadn't behaved like a man incapable of committing himself to another woman.
If only he weren't so stubborn, they could work things out. She refused to give up this easily.
Leaving Caitlin's room, Robin pushed back an errant lock of hair. As her fingers brushed her scalp, she was startled to feel something gritty. Sand.
After spending yesterday afternoon at the beach, she'd taken a long bath at Gigi's apartment. To her embarrassment, Robin realized she'd become so involved in reading a novel that she'd forgotten to wash her hair.
Well, she had a long, solitary evening ahead. Now she knew what to do with it.
As she started toward the stairs, Robin heard Aaron muttering. She hurried in, but he seemed fine.
She didn't want to be downstairs if he started screaming with a nightmare. Aaron needed her. The other children needed her, too. Once awakened, they'd have trouble returning to sleep and would be cranky the next day.
Making a quick decision, she fetched her towel, shampoo, mousse and hair dryer. She would use the children's bathroom.
After only a moment's hesitation, Robin left the door ajar. Otherwise, she'd never be able to hear Aaron over the running water.
The oversize tub didn't have a curtain. Despite Robin's doubts, the children had proved that the water didn't spray out when they took showers, and she wasn't worried about modesty. Flint wouldn't be home for hours.
Soon the hot water was soothing away her anxieties. Maureen had probably already recovered from Gigi's foolishness, and Flint might someday lay his late wife to rest. Someday soon.
*
Staring at his revised report without seeing it, as he'd been doing for the past ten minutes, Flint kept replaying tonight's conversation in his mind He hadn't tried to blame Robin for her mother's behavior. He hadn't criticized her in any way. He'd stated his case in a calm and rational manner. Then why did his brain keep riding a roller coaster?
He admitted the fault was his, that he kept wanting Robin to be like Kathy—steady, reliable and organized. Mostly, it bothered Flint that Kathy was slipping away. Sometimes he had to check her photograph to refresh his mental image of her. Other times, he would discover he'd gone for days without thinking about her. He was losing her all over again.
And now he was losing Robin, as well. He'd seen her distress, this evening in the kitchen. She wouldn't stick around forever. Sooner or later one of those schools would hire her. And eventually she'd fall in love with someone, like one of those bare-chested fellows that hung around the beach, or the dancer who’d twirled her on his shoulders.
Flint slammed his fist onto his desk, sending darts of pain up his wrist. Oh, hell, why had he done such a stupid thing?
Because, for once, sitting in the office was making it hard to concentrate. Flint could work better at home.
With a grimace, he copied his report onto his cloud backup so he could access it from home, and switched off the computer.
Chapter Fifteen
Robin didn't believe in wasting water, but the hot stream across her tight shoulders felt wonderful. Only after luxuriating in the warmth for several minutes did she begin shampooing her hair.
She closed her eyes and arched against the soothing flow. Beneath her fingertips, sand loosened and washed away. She couldn't imagine how she'd managed to get so much in her hair, until she remembered a toddler running on the beach, waving a plastic shovelful of the stuff. Robin had ducked and shielded her eyes, but he’d deposited a cloud of the stuff atop her head.
If she didn't rinse the tub properly, the kids could build a sand castle in here tomorrow. Smiling at the notion, Robin began to hum. The song was "I Will Always Love You.”
Suddenly Robin had the sensation of being watched. Amid the steam, she caught a flicker of movement in the mirror. Was she hallucinating again?
She swung toward the door and caught her breath. Flint stood in the hall, his expression a mixture of astonishment and longing.
His gaze traveled across her body, lingering on her mouth and then her breasts. He moved into the doorway, his hands flexing as if to reach for her.
Pleasure tingled through Robin. Flint hadn't lost his desire for her. His words tonight about keeping their distance had been part of an outdated defense system. Now surely…
And then he changed. Lowered lids shaded the hunger she'd witnessed a moment before. His hands forming fists he turned away, his spine stiff with resolution.
In a rush of humiliation, Robin saw that she'd been wrong. She'd believed Flint did care for her, and that sooner or later he would discover that. Now she couldn't avoid the fact that his feelings were purely sexual.
She finished her shower and wrapped herself in a towel. Flint had disappeared.
Robin grabbed her gear and hurried to her room.
*
Flint shut himself in his bedroom. He couldn't believe he'd stood there gawking at Robin like a schoolboy, but she was incredibly beautiful. He hadn't meant to invade her privacy. He'd assumed one of the children must have decided to take a shower at this unusual hour and had peered in to make sure everything was all right.
The effect of long hair sweeping across her nude body had given Flint the impression of a nymph bathing in a waterfall. Robin possessed such natural sensuality, he'd almost ripped off his clothing and joined her.
He couldn't yield to this passion. To abandon his inhibitions, to fling his reservations aside, meant plunging into a future out of his control. It meant a free-fall through life.
Robin's vitality fascinated him, and her kindness softened his heart. But she was dangerous, as well. Flint wished he could identify what it was that troubled him. He'd supposed it was Robin's unpredictability. He'd even accused her more than once of being irresponsible. But something else worried him more, something he couldn’t put into words.
Flint had only his instincts to rely on, although he hated to admit it, because he considered himself rational. He simply knew that he must never again yield to his longing to possess Robin and let her possess him.
And now, like it or not, he had to finish his damn report.
*
That night, Flint did something he hadn't done since high school—he fell asleep at his desk. When morning light awakened him, he ached from his cramped position.
His mood didn't improve when the phone rang, and the assistant to the firm's president informed him that her boss's airplane had been delayed arriving from New York last night. The meeting had been moved back to its originally scheduled time, tomorrow afternoon.
"I'll see you then," Flint growled. A delayed flight wasn’t anyone’s fault. He’d work out his frustrations and his cramped muscles at the gym, he decided, and put on his exercise clothes.
When he reached the kitchen, the coffee was ready. Robin, blonde hair floating around her like a halo, was fixing scrambled eggs for the kids. She didn't look dangerous in the least.
She gave him a short nod. "Morning," Flint said. "Meeting's postponed."
"I heard you talking on the phone. I figured it was something like that." Robin set the pan aside and dropped whole-whea
t bread into the toaster. "Breakfast!" she hollered so loud Flint's head ached.
"Gotta go." He set the cup aside and shuffled toward the garage.
The triplets nearly bowled him over as they raced in. "Eggs! Eggs!" screamed Aaron in delight.
"Can I have chocolate milk?" Brick demanded, about two inches from Flint's ear.
Caitlin let out a shriek that could have awakened the dead. "Brick stepped on my foot!"
Flint wished he'd drunk something alcoholic last night. Then he'd have an excuse for suffering a hangover.
He had almost reached the garage when the doorbell rang. Vowing to strangle any salesman who dared disrupt the family at this hour, he thrust open the door.
There stood Aunt Maureen, bandbox perfect in a navy skirt and white blouse. "I've come to talk to Robin," she said.
"She realizes her mother was out of line." Flint stepped aside as his aunt marched past.
"Maybe yes, maybe no." Maureen disappeared into the house.
He was definitely losing control, Flint reflected as he got into his Volvo. But he planned to take it back, starting today.
Only first he had to get these kinks out of his muscles, and out of his brain.
*
"It may be a harebrained idea, but I think I should go to the séance tomorrow."
Maureen and Robin sat on the front steps, watching the children ride their bikes. The kids were pretending to be the Pony Express, delivering imaginary packets of mail from one end of the block to the other.
Caitlin had insisted it was unfair to make bad guys out of pretend Indians, so instead they feigned being under attack by pirates. This might be the first time, even in fantasy, that pirates had attacked the Pony Express, Robin thought.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked.
The older woman blinked against the sunshine. "For forty years I've hung onto my anger. Oh, I denied it. I thought I got over Freddy long ago, but you were right the other day. I've never trusted a man again. I felt I must be unworthy of love or he wouldn't have abandoned me. "
"You think the séance will help?" A car approached, and Robin leaned out until she saw all three children move to the side of the road. As soon as it passed, they resumed cycling.
"I consider it a form of exorcism," Maureen said. "Either this so-called spirit really is Freddy, or he's a fake. In either case, I think I'll finally be rid of him."
"It’s always hard to know when it's time to move on," Robin observed.
Maureen shot her a curious look. "You're not thinking of leaving, are you? The children adore you."
“I feel the same about them," Robin said. "But from the way Flint acts, my days are numbered."
Maureen shook her head but found nothing further to say. The fact that she approved of Robin was gratifying. Maureen's good opinion wasn't easy to come by. But Maureen didn't know the whole story of Robin's relationship with Flint, and Robin wasn't about to tell her.
Was it time to move in? Robin decided to let destiny make the decision for her. After Maureen had gone and the children were busy with their workbooks, she called the director of A Learning Place.
"Perfect timing," he said. "I was planning to call you today."
Robin's pulse throbbed. "Good news, I hope?"
"Excellent." His smile transmitted over the cellular network. "We received full funding for a theater and dance program. We'd like you to come on board."
She could hardly believe she was hearing those words. "I'm delighted. I accept."
Robin couldn't concentrate on what he was saying for a moment through the buzz in her mind. Then she realized the director was explaining the fall schedule.
"Classes start August twenty-eighth," he said. "That's a bit earlier than the public schools, but our parents like the idea of a longer academic year."
The twenty-eighth was not quite three weeks away.
"We'll have two weeks of faculty orientation and planning," the director continued. "That’s because we have an entire new school to organize. I’d like you to coordinate with our art and music teachers about performances."
Robin studied a calendar hanging near the refrigerator. “That means I start next week."
"Actually, a lot of the teachers are getting their offices and classrooms ready this week," the director advised. "I know this is short notice, but I didn't get the okay until yesterday."
So many things to do. Robin needed to compile a list of supplies, go shopping and decorate her classroom. "Could I come by tomorrow and pick up a key?"
"Certainly. I appreciate your willingness to hit the ground running," the director said. As they finalized arrangements, Robin leaned against the counter, her emotions slamming into each other. She’d landed her dream job.
It meant leaving Flint's house, as she knew she must. But she hadn't expected change to arrive this abruptly. She hated to break it to the children. How could she stand not seeing them every day?
After the call ended, Robin went to the laundry room to transfer a load of wash into the dryer. She was thrusting in an armful of whites when a sock leaped out of her hand almost spitefully and landed behind the machines.
With a grimace, Robin peered into a maze of pipes. The narrow space resembled a jungle into which socks might disappear forever.
She couldn't let the darn thing go without a fight. Besides, help was at hand. On a shelf above the washer lay an old toy of the children's, an eighteen-inch mechanical arm that could pick up objects.
Robin seized it and began probing for the sock. She felt the arm bump something soft and pulled a lever so its jaws closed on the object. What it brought up wasn't a sock, however. It was a pink sweatband.
Dropping it on the dryer, Robin probed some more. Eventually the sock yielded and she retrieved it, covered with dust and a trace of grease. It would have to wait for another load of wash.
The sweatband must belong to Caitlin, Robin thought as she picked it up. Then she saw that it bore the initials KLH.
She didn't know what the L stood for, but the band had belonged to Kathy. It must have lain there undiscovered for more than three years, yet it looked neither dirty nor greasy. As she held the feather-light stretch fabric, she thought about Kathy standing in this same room, performing these same tasks.
I wish I could bring you back, Robin thought. I have to leave these children, and they need a mother. I would give you Flint and the kids and everything, just so you could keep them safe and happy.
In the silence of the room, her ears hummed. She had the odd impression that she'd been listening to someone else's thoughts instead of her own. Could she be turning ditsy like her mother?
Shaking her head, Robin switched on the dryer and left the sweatband to wash later and give to Caitlin.
That night, she told Flint the first chance she found, when they were alone in the kitchen. He turned away without a word. She’d expected a scolding about the suddenness of her departure, or a flicker of regret, but he busied himself in helping fix dinner.
Robin’s eyes brimmed. But she refused let him or the kids see how hurt she felt.
At dinner, she waited until everyone finished eating before breaking the news. The children sat around the table staring in disbelief. Robin’s heart sank as she took in Caitlin's shock, Brick's crumpled face and Aaron's tears.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I applied for the job before I started working here. Besides, you guys will be off to school soon yourselves."
Flint hadn't mentioned any more about boarding school, and to her relief, he didn't now. "No long faces," he said. "I can arrange day care after school and I'm sure Maureen will fill in on weekends."
"Can't Robin come over?" Brick asked. "On Saturdays, I mean?"
"You shouldn’t count on it." Flint cleared his throat. “She may find that once she gets busy with her new job, she’ll prefer to keep her free time for herself.”
"Can we go to Robin's school?" said Aaron. "Then we’d see her every day."
"I'll take
it under consideration. But probably not."
“Dad! It’s a great school,” Brick protested. “It has to be. They hired Robin.”
Flint sighed. "I looked into it, some time ago. Kids work at their own pace, in flexible classrooms. I’m sure it has its merits, but you kids need more structure." He cut off further protests by turning to Robin. “When are you leaving, exactly?”
She hadn’t been specific earlier. Reluctantly, she said, “Tomorrow, if that’s okay.”
For an instant, panic flickered over his face. "I'm expected at City Hall in the morning to meet with the planning director, and I have another important meeting in the afternoon."
"I'll call Maureen." Then Robin remembered that the older woman would be attending the séance. "She's tied up in the morning, so I'll stick around until she's free."
"I'd appreciate that." Flint got busy loading the dishwasher.
Robin retreated to her room. If he was hurting, why didn’t he say so? If he’d give her an opening, they could work something out. If nothing else, she’d like to visit the kids on weekends, but he’d rejected that idea.
Her eyes stinging, she folded clothes into her suitcase. As she lifted a blouse from the hanger, she noticed the old lady dresses hanging at one side of the closet.
At least she hadn't fled like the other nannies, leaving her possessions behind. The only thing Robin would leave at Flint's house was her heart.
*
By bedtime, the atmosphere in the house had become oppressive. The children avoided their father as much as possible, even passing up his offer of a bedtime book, as if they blamed him for Robin’s departure.
"We can read our own books," Caitlin said.
"Yeah, we've outgrown night-night stories." Brick folded his arms.
"Me, too," said Aaron.
Watching them head off to brush their teeth and go to bed on their own, Flint felt a sharp sense of loss. No matter how much he tried to tell himself that it was good for the kids to become more independent, he missed those little hugs and the rapt attention when he performed different voices for the story characters. As for Robin, she retreated to her room and stayed there.
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