“Now, Mama, maybe there’s a reason he wanted to do things his own way.” The man looked meaningfully at Susan. “We’re Mindy’s grandparents,” he explained. “We like to pop in when we can on Sundays.”
“That macaroni salad is from Shop Giant?” the woman asked, picking up the container and studying it. Then she walked over to the refrigerator, opened it, and scanned the contents.
Susan took a breath. There was no reason to feel defensive of this kitchen; it wasn’t hers. “Yes, Sam picked it up on the way home from church.”
“Oh, men.” The woman waved a perfectly manicured hand. “They never know what to get, and with Sam so busy... Are you in charge of the cooking? Because I’d recommend Denise’s Deli in town, if you don’t have time to make homemade.”
Susan’s stomach knotted and she flashed back to her mom trying to please her dad with her culinary skills. It was a role Susan had vowed to avoid, so why was she feeling as if she needed to make an excuse for not having labored over doing all the chopping and boiling herself? For a family that, after all, wasn’t her own?
The door from the deck burst open. “Grandma! Grandpa!” Mindy shrieked. She flung herself at the man.
He bent to pick her up. “Oh, missy, you’re getting too heavy for an old man!”
Sam followed with a plate of grilled chicken breasts. “Hey, Ralph, Helen. I thought you two might stop by.”
He had? Why hadn’t he warned her?
“We can slide a couple of extra places in at the table. Susan, would you mind...”
“Consider it done,” she said drily, adding just one place setting. And then, as soon as both grandparents were occupied with Mindy’s excited explanation of the grilling process, she grabbed Sam’s arm and pulled him into the playroom that adjoined the kitchen. “Look, since it’s a family meal, I’m just going to leave you to it,” she said. “Everything’s ready to go here, and I’ve got a new thriller from the library that’s calling my name.”
“You have to eat,” he said, frowning. “I’d like it if you’d stay.”
“They seem a little...overwhelming,” she admitted. “I’d feel more comfortable if—”
“Come on, Miss Susan, you forgot to make a place for Grandma! I got the extra placemats.”
“Just stay for dinner,” Sam said as Mindy tugged at her hand. “Then you can take off all afternoon.”
“But—”
“I’m paying you to be here.”
Clenching her teeth, Susan helped Mindy add another place setting to the table.
They all stood around it, and Sam said a prayer, and then they took their seats. Susan busied herself for a couple of minutes with bringing over food and fetching drinks, but then that was done and Sam urged her to sit down.
“Oh,” the grandma, Helen, said, “are you eating with the family?”
Susan raised an eyebrow at Sam. “Not my idea.”
“Susan’s agreed to eat with us. Mindy needs a female role model.”
“Oh, right,” the older woman said. “At least until...” She gave Sam a meaningful look.
“Right,” he said.
So was something in the works, then? Was Yacht Club Grandma cooking up a girlfriend for Sam? That would be ideal, Susan told herself as she helped cut Mindy’s chicken breast. It would take her off the hot seat and out of a role she obviously wasn’t suited for.
Amidst the clanking silverware and clinking glasses, there was a noticeable absence of small talk. Finally, the awkward silence was broken by Mindy’s grandfather. “What are you?” he asked Susan.
“Hey, now, Ralph...” Sam started, a flush crossing his face.
Susan drew in her breath and let it out in a sigh. “It’s fine,” she said to Sam. She’d been answering that question all her life, but the questions had gotten a little more frequent since she’d moved from California to the Midwest.
Mindy looked alertly from one adult to the next, sensing the tension.
“I meant no offense,” Ralph said, lifting both hands, palms up. “I’m just curious. You look a little...” He broke off, as if he was trying to think of the word.
As a person who blurted out the wrong thing herself fairly often, Susan thought it best to cut off his speculation. “I’m half-Japanese.”
The older man snapped his fingers. “I thought so! You look a little bit Mexican, but I was guessing Oriental. Your mom’s Japanese?”
Yes, he was a blurter. But that was so much more comfortable than his wife’s sputtering disapproval. She smiled at him. “Nope. We don’t fit the stereotype. It’s my dad who’s Japanese.”
“Your English sounds just fine,” the older man said reassuringly.
“I hope so!” Susan said, chuckling. “I was born in California.”
Helen made a strangled sound in her throat, whether regarding California, Japan, or her husband’s line of questioning, Susan wasn’t sure.
“California,” Mindy broke in, “that’s where earthquakes are, and Hollywood.”
“You’re right!” Susan smiled at Mindy. Hooray for kids, who could break through adult tension with their innocent remarks. She took a bite of macaroni salad. Not bad. She’d definitely choose Shop Giant’s brand over anything she could make herself.
“Mommy was from Ohio, like me,” Mindy informed Susan. “You’re sitting just where she used to sit.”
Everyone froze.
Wow. Susan’s stomach twisted. She hadn’t meant to intrude, hadn’t wanted to take anyone’s place. Should she apologize? Offer to move? Ignore the remark? Suddenly, the food tasted as dry as ashes in her mouth.
“Mindy,” Sam said, taking the child’s hand in his own, “honey, saying that might make our guest feel uncomfortable.”
He was right, it did...but that wasn’t something Mindy should have to worry about. Just like that, Susan’s own discomfort melted away as her training clicked in. Stifling a child’s natural comments about a loss was a way to push grief underground, causing all sorts of psychological issues. “That’s probably kind of sad for everybody,” Susan said quickly. “Did your mom like to cook out?”
Mindy looked uncertainly at her father. “I think...she liked to lie down the best.”
Susan’s throat constricted. Mindy had only been four when her mom died. She couldn’t remember much of what had happened when she was younger, of course.
Couldn’t remember her mother as a healthy woman.
“Oh, no, Marie loved cooking of all kinds.” Helen’s eyes filled with tears. “You just don’t remember, honey, because she was sick.”
Ralph was staring down at his plate.
This wonderful family meal was turning into an outright disaster. The grief of parents who’d lost their beloved daughter was way beyond Susan’s ability to soothe. She met Sam’s gaze across the table. Do something, she tried to telegraph with her eyes.
Sam cleared his throat and brushed a hand over Mindy’s hair. “I remember how Mom loved to make cookies with you,” he said. “At Christmastime, you two would get all set up with icing and sprinkles and colored sugar. Mom let you decorate the cookies however you wanted.”
Susan breathed out a sigh of relief and smiled encouragingly at Sam. He was doing exactly the right thing. “That sounds like fun!”
“Did I do a good job?” Mindy asked.
Sam chuckled, a slightly forced sound. “There was usually more frosting and decoration than cookie. You were little. But Mom loved the cookies you decorated and always made me take a picture.”
“I remember those pictures!” Mindy said. “Can we look at them later?”
“Of course, honey.” Sam leaned closer to put an arm around Mindy and give her a side hug, and Susan’s heart melted a little.
“That reminds me, I want to take some pictures today,” Ralph
said, “maybe out by the pool.”
The conversation got more general, then, and the awkwardness passed.
Later, Susan insisted on doing the dishes so that the family could gather out by the pool. But after a couple minutes, Helen came back in. “I didn’t want you to put things away in the wrong place,” she said.
“Oh...thanks.” That was a backhanded offer of help if Susan had ever heard one.
“Marie always had this kitchen organized so perfectly, but every time I come it’s more messed up.”
Susan’s hands tightened on the platter she was washing. “I’m sure it’s hard for Sam to manage the house along with his business.”
“It’s not Sam’s job to manage.” The remark sounded pointed.
Susan lifted her eyebrows at the woman, wondering where this was going. “If not Sam’s, then whose?”
“Well, I just hope you’re not thinking it’s your job.”
“Of course not!” Susan burst out. Where did Helen get off, coming over and criticizing the help? She wasn’t Susan’s boss!
She glanced over at the older woman and noticed that her eyes were shiny with tears, and everything started to make sense. Helen didn’t want the kitchen arrangements to change, because she was trying to preserve her daughter’s memory. But inevitably, things would get moved around, and sentimental treasures misplaced. Life had to go on, but for a grieving mother, every change must feel like losing another piece of her daughter. “Look, I’m sorry,” she said, drying her hands and walking over to give the woman she barely knew a clumsy little pat on the arm. “It’s a loss I can’t even imagine.”
“It’s just hard to see another woman in her place,” Helen said in a wobbly voice.
“I’m not trying to take her place,” Susan said, feeling her way. “No one can do that, but especially not me. I’m just here for the summer.”
“You’re just not the kind of woman Sam and Mindy need.”
Susan blew out a breath and plunked the platter down on the counter. Grief was one thing, but outright rudeness was another. “Did you...did you want to talk, or would you rather be alone?”
“Alone,” Helen croaked out, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.
“Sure. You go ahead and put stuff away wherever you want. I’ve got some reading to do.” Half-guiltily, she fled the kitchen and made her way to her apartment via the front door, the better to avoid Sam and Mindy and Ralph.
Helen was right. Susan wasn’t the kind of woman Sam and Mindy needed. But why that truth felt so hurtful, she didn’t have a clue.
Chapter Five
Sam pulled into his driveway the next Friday afternoon, right after lunchtime. It would be good to get out of this monkey suit and work the rest of the rainy afternoon at home. He had a little planning to do on the summer picnic he put on for his employees, but it was all fairly low-key; Mindy could interrupt without bothering him.
And he had to admit to himself that seeing Susan was part of what had drawn him home. Not really seeing her, he told himself, but rather, seeing how she was interacting with Mindy.
He’d been so busy the past week, catching up on all the work he’d put off during the no-nanny period, that he hadn’t spent a lot of time at home. Mindy seemed happy and Susan had said things were going well. He knew they’d visited the library and gone to the park with a couple of other kids. One day, Mindy had had her friend Mercedes over to play.
Sam was feeling pleased with the solution he’d come up with for Mindy’s summer. She seemed to be thriving under the supervision of an active and engaged nanny.
Susan herself seemed guarded, but he had to assume she’d get more comfortable as the summer went on. That Sunday dinner with Ralph and Helen had been awkward, but that was because they hadn’t understood that Susan was only a temporary fixture in the home. Next time would surely be better.
When he got inside, the sound of a busy, humming household met his ears, confirming his satisfaction with the arrangements he’d made for Mindy. He stopped in the kitchen to look at the mail, and the sound of voices drifted his way.
He heard his nephew, Xavier, explaining the finer points of Chutes and Ladders to Mindy. That meant Xavier’s little sister, Baby Emmie, must be here, too, but he didn’t hear baby fussing or cooing; apparently she was sleeping or content.
The low, steady murmur of women’s voices let him know that his sister-in-law and Susan were both in the room with the kids.
“I know I can talk them into it,” Susan was saying doubtfully. “The payment will just be a week late, maybe ten days. It’s tips versus wages, that’s all. I expected to have a little more money by now.”
“Troy and I could probably loan you the—”
“No! Thanks, but I’ll be fine.”
Angelica made some sound as if she was comforting a baby, which she probably was. “What’s your mom going to do with your brother away?”
“Enjoy her freedom. And I’m hoping I can send her a plane ticket later in the summer.”
“That’s so nice she’s coming to visit you!”
“Oh, she’s not visiting me,” Susan said, sounding alarmed. “I want her to be able to go to New York to see some shows, or to a nice spa. Coming to see me would be nothing but stress.”
“I doubt that. You’re her daughter! Or...are things bad between you?”
Sam took a step closer and leaned on the counter, eavesdropping unabashedly. Mindy and Xavier argued a little in the background. Sam could smell the remains of a mac-and-cheese lunch. He saw the tell-tale blue-and-white boxes in the trash and shook his head, a grin crossing his face. Susan hadn’t claimed to be a cook.
“I’m...a bit of a disappointment to her.”
“I’m sure—”
“Don’t feel bad, it doesn’t bother me anymore. I know she’s really just upset about her own life. She had a vision for me to do a better job than she did, to be a perfect wife who made her husband happy, but I’m not falling into line.”
“Well, considering that you don’t have a husband at all—”
“Exactly.” They both laughed.
There was a little more murmuring and the sound of a baby fussing, then some quiet shuffling.
Sam felt bad about eavesdropping, knew he should say hello to let them know he was here, but if Angelica was feeding the baby, he didn’t want to intrude. Quietly, he grabbed a fork and the pan of leftover mac and cheese and picked at it, thinking about what Susan had said.
Wages versus tips. Of course, she’d been expecting to make speedy cash as a waitress. He needed to bump her paycheck forward rather than waiting the customary two weeks to pay her.
“You should just ask Sam to advance you the money,” Angelica advised as if she was channeling his thoughts.
“No way! That wouldn’t be right. This is a job, and you don’t ask for special favors in a job.”
Sam got himself a glass of water, making some noise about it, to warn everyone of his presence.
“Daddy!” Mindy called, and ran to him.
“Hey, sugar sprite. Having fun?” He swung her up into his arms, feeling that odd mixture of joy and concern that was fatherhood for him.
“Yeah! Xavier is here!”
“Go back and play with him,” he said, putting her down. “I’m going to change my clothes, and then I’ll want to talk to Susan a couple of minutes.”
He’d move her payday up, no matter whether she protested or not. And as he trotted up the stairs, an idea came to him: he’d send her mother a go-anywhere ticket. It was a benefit of his airline program and frequent flyer miles; it wouldn’t even cost him anything. And it would help out proud, independent Susan.
Which, for whatever reason, was something he very much wanted to do.
* * *
“No!” she said twenty mi
nutes later. “I’m sorry you overheard that, but I don’t need any special favors.”
“It’s not a favor, it’s just a change in pay date.” He for sure wasn’t going to tell her about the ticket he’d just told his assistant to send to her mother. That would go over about as well as rat poison.
“Why are you doing this?”
“To help you out,” he said patiently.
“I don’t need your help!” She banged open the dishwasher and started loading dishes in. Thankfully, they were plastic ones; the china wouldn’t have survived her violent treatment.
He cocked his head to one side. “I thought someone was hassling you about a late payment. If that’s not the case...”
“Oh, it’s true, but I can talk some sense into them. Probably.”
“What’s the problem? The car?” Maybe now was the time to offer her the services of his car dealer.
“No!” She scanned the now-empty counter and slammed the dishwasher shut. “My car is paid for. It’s...it’s my brother.”
“What’s wrong?”
“His camp. The last installment for this special camp I want to send him to, it’s due Monday. It’s why I’m working this summer. He’ll just love it, and he needs the extra stimulation. And my mom needs the break.” She let out an unconscious sigh, and Sam felt the strangest urge to put an arm around her.
She was a little thing to be bearing the burden for an entire family, but she didn’t complain; she just accepted the responsibility. Exactly what he would have done in the same situation. Admiration rose in him, along with a strange little click of connection. Maybe he and Susan weren’t as different as he’d initially thought.
“Will your first paycheck cover the payment?” he asked her.
“Just about exactly.”
“Then give me the number and I’ll have the money wired today.”
Relief warred with resistance in her dark eyes. “But it’s not fair—”
“Look,” he said, “it’s nothing I haven’t done for other people who work for me. I take care of my employees. Go get the information.”
Small-Town Nanny Page 6
