by Jen Turano
Thaddeus’s eyes began to sparkle. “We could name him Chip, because that’s what I was going to name the dog my daddy said he was going to get for me someday.” The sparkle immediately faded from the little boy’s eyes. “Someday never came because Daddy went away.”
Not allowing himself a moment to consider his actions, Everett leaned over and scooped Thaddeus into his arms, ignoring that the little boy stiffened the second Everett touched him. To Everett’s relief, the stiffening disappeared a second later, right before Thaddeus snaked an arm around Everett’s neck and leaned his little body into Everett’s.
“Does this mean you’re getting me a dog?” Thaddeus whispered.
“I do believe it might mean exactly that, but . . . before we speak about it further, I think it might be a good idea if we set about the business of getting you and your sisters cleaned up. You’re only going to get itchier as that flour dries.”
“So I have to take a . . . bath?” Thaddeus asked rather glumly.
“I think there might be another option, one you might find a little more amusing.”
Everett turned and nodded to Elizabeth. “I’ll race you over to the fountain.” Giving her a head start, he finally took off after her, jostling Thaddeus around in his arms, which succeeded in having a loud burst of giggling erupt from the little boy every other second. Running behind Elizabeth, while being careful to never pass her, Everett heard her giggling as well. The sound warmed his heart.
Before he knew it, he’d reached his destination, and without bothering to kick off his shoes, he jumped into the large stone fountain that was situated halfway between the house and the cliffs that led to the sea. Splashing his way through the water, he reached the waterfall that had been built in the very middle of the fountain and stuck Thaddeus right into it.
Shrieking with clear delight, Thaddeus began to wiggle, the paste that still covered him making him remarkably slippery. Afraid of dropping him, Everett set him down and then straightened, discovering that while he’d been busy with Thaddeus, Elizabeth had joined them in the fountain.
Without so much as a by-your-leave, she sent water flying his way. And when Rose suddenly appeared in the fountain as well, he found himself splashed from all sides as the children went about the business of being children. Stumbling his way to the side of the fountain, he was just about to announce his surrender when a wave of water smacked him in the face, leaving him sputtering. When he finally caught his breath and pushed his hair out of his eyes, he found Millie grinning back at him, even as she scooped more water up into a bucket she’d somehow managed to procure.
War was immediate, and one he knew he couldn’t win. The children continued splashing him as Millie threw bucketful after bucketful of water his way. When Millie slipped and fell, he saw an opportunity he couldn’t resist. Grabbing the bucket, which was floating beside her, he scooped up water and aimed it at Thaddeus, who’d abandoned his purple frock and was splashing around in nothing but his drawers. Drawing the bucket back, he let the water fly, but Thaddeus ducked out of the way—which had the water winging out of the fountain to land directly on . . . his mother.
Even the peacocks that had been screeching just as loudly as the children had been shrieking seemed to realize the gravity of the situation. They stopped screeching, the children stopped shrieking, but Millie pushed soggy curls out of her eyes and simply smiled at his mother.
“You’re more than welcome to join us, Mrs. Mulberry, now that you’re all wet.”
For the briefest of seconds, Everett thought he caught a glimpse of longing in his mother’s eyes, but then she lifted her chin. “It would hardly be proper for me to frolic in a fountain, Miss Longfellow, nor is it proper for you to be in there, either.” She lifted her chin another notch as she glanced his way. “You’ve ruined my hat as well as soaked me to the skin.”
With amusement tickling his throat, he looked his mother up and down. “I’ll buy you a new hat, Mother, but all I can suggest about you being soaked to the skin is to perhaps recommend you either search out a towel or, as Millie suggested, join us. It’s rather fun to frolic about in a fountain, even if society wouldn’t approve.”
Dorothy cast another glance at the fountain, this one more longingly than the previous one, before she began wringing water out of her skirt. “Your father and I recently had the privilege of viewing pools over in England that were built specifically for the purpose of swimming.” She looked up from her skirt. “Since the children seem to be so fond of the water, but society does look askance at the idea of splashing around in something so common as a fountain, perhaps you should look into the feasibility of having your very own pool built here.” Everett could do nothing but stand in wide-eyed surprise as she said, “I would imagine if you were one of the first to build a personal pool, why, society would soon find them all the fashion.”
“That would probably be a more realistic goal than trying to convince society peacocks are soon to be all the rage,” he heard Millie mumble.
Pretending he hadn’t heard her because he really wasn’t up to explaining the reasoning behind the peacocks to his mother at that particular moment, Everett smiled at Dorothy. “While the idea of a personal pool is incredibly enticing, it might be easier all around if I were to just take the children swimming in the ocean, especially since there are many beaches to choose from here in Newport.”
“I suppose you make a most excellent point, although you will need to hire someone who knows how to swim to join you when you take the children into the ocean, unless . . .” She glanced at Millie. “Can you swim?”
“I’m afraid not, Mrs. Mulberry, but since you’ve dismissed me, I don’t believe it really matters at this point whether or not I know how to swim.”
“I’ve decided that I might have been a little hasty in that regard, especially since I’ve been reminded by my husband that nannies are always in short supply during this time of year.” She narrowed her eyes at Millie. “Having said that, do know that, if I witness any further shenanigans on your part, I will see you dismissed.”
“I don’t purposefully become involved with shenanigans, Mrs. Mulberry, but you should know that sometimes they just seem to happen to me.”
Dorothy’s eyes narrowed a bit more. “Don’t make me regret giving you another chance.”
“Of course, and I do thank you, but again, it’s not as . . .”
“You should stop while you’re ahead,” Dorothy interrupted before she turned to Everett. “I’m going to go dry off, but I expect to see you in the not-too-distant future in the library, where you and I, along with your father, are going to discuss a few things.”
“What kind of things?” Everett asked.
“Your progress with the children, or lack thereof from what I’ve seen thus far.”
Elizabeth sloshed her way through the water to join him, surprising him once again when she took hold of his hand. “Uncle Everett has been doing much better of late, taking care of us and all. Just today he told me that I’m going to face punishment for aiming a croquet ball directly at Miss Dixon’s head, and if you ask me, that’s progress, even if I don’t particularly care to spend the rest of the afternoon in my room.”
Dorothy blinked. “Why in the world would you have aimed a croquet ball at Caroline’s head? She’s a completely lovely soul.”
“She wants to send me and my brother and sister off to boarding school so that she won’t have to fuss with us anymore.”
Dorothy blinked again right before she arched a brow at Everett. “Is that true—does Caroline want to see them sent off to boarding school?”
“I don’t think now is the best time to discuss this, Mother.”
Dorothy glanced to the children before she nodded. “Very well, but do know that we will discuss it.”
She turned and smiled at Elizabeth. “You, dear girl, were always getting into mischief, even when you were little. However, you’re quickly turning into a lovely young lady, which means that it’s
time for you to manage that mischief. That means no future instances of aiming croquet balls at anyone.”
“How do you know I’ve always been prone to mischief?” Elizabeth asked.
“Mr. Mulberry and I, along with Everett, used to spend part of our summers holidaying in Saratoga Springs,” Dorothy said. “We specifically went there in order to visit with your parents, since your father, Fred, was a frequent and much loved guest in our house while he was growing up.” Dorothy smiled. “He, you’ll be pleased to learn, was quite the mischief-maker in his youth, so I was thrilled to find out that you possessed that very same trait. Why, one only had to look at the impish grin on your face to know you’d get your way in the end, even if it entailed staying in the mineral springs for hours at a time.”
Everett’s breath caught in his throat as pain took him by surprise and left him reeling. He’d been so agitated since he’d been given the children that he’d not allowed himself to revisit the fond memories he had of Fred, or of the many times they’d vacationed together even after Fred and Violet had their children.
He’d also never taken more than a brief moment to mourn, something that sent shame mixing in with the pain.
“You used to go on holiday with my family?” Elizabeth demanded, her hand no longer in his.
Everett summoned up a smile, one he hoped would mask the turmoil that was spinning through him. “Your father and I did grow up together, Elizabeth, and we went on holiday together every year throughout our youth, and even after we went off to college. Then, he met your mother and they got married, but I still met up with him often, traveling to Saratoga Springs, or visiting all of you at your home in Boston.”
He shook his head. “When you were about four, and the twins were just babies, your parents started taking you sailing all over the world, and that’s when our annual holidays stopped, although I’d always hoped that after life settled down a bit for me and for your father, we’d once again have time to spend with each other.”
Elizabeth considered him for a long moment. “When you were in Saratoga Springs with us, did you throw me up high while we were in the water and then laugh when Daddy claimed you were giving him heart palpitations?”
“I must admit that I did.”
A little ghost of a smile played around the corners of her lips. “I remember that.”
Dorothy stepped closer to the fountain and cleared her throat. “I remember that you always enjoyed a good game of splashing, dear.” She dashed a hand over her eyes, cleared her throat again, and then smiled at Elizabeth. “It was not well done of Everett to douse me with that bucket of water, so . . . do promise to put your heart into soundly drenching him.”
With that, Dorothy sent Everett a nod, smiled at the children, looked Millie over as if she still didn’t know what to make of her, and then turned and strolled away without speaking another word.
“I like her,” Elizabeth proclaimed when Dorothy was almost to the cottage. “She changed her mind about dismissing Miss Millie, and that shows she’s a smart lady.”
Glancing to Millie, Everett found her dashing a hand across her eyes, much like his mother had recently done. Not understanding in the least what had caused her to break into tears, he opened his mouth but was interrupted by Elizabeth.
“You don’t mind if I call you Miss Millie, do you?”
The reasoning behind the tears was immediate, and Everett couldn’t help feeling incredibly proud of Millie once again. She was already helping the children return to the adorable imps he’d once known, even if he’d forgotten how adorable they’d—
“Of course you may call me Miss Millie, Elizabeth,” Millie said. “But, before we forget the request Mrs. Mulberry left you, I say . . . get the bucket, and get it now.”
Before he could voice a single protest, Millie and Elizabeth jumped his way, and with renewed shouts of laughter, water began splashing once again, even as a sense that the world as he knew it had changed forever took root inside him.
9
Enjoying a rare moment of peace and quiet, Millie settled into the chair on the back terrace of Seaview, appreciating the serene beauty that surrounded her. To her right, the ocean sparkled in the bright morning light, and to her left, a peacock strutted before her, fanning out his tail feathers even though Millie didn’t see any peahens around to appreciate his efforts. Picking up the cup of coffee Mrs. O’Connor had very kindly made her, she took a sip and allowed her thoughts to wander.
She was rapidly coming to the conclusion that her world was turning rather topsy-turvy.
The children, bless their little hearts, were no longer trying to do her in.
Everett was spending time with those children while being far too charming to her in the process, and Mrs. Mulberry had taken to watching her . . . at every turn.
To say it was all very confusing was an understatement.
“Ah, Miss Longfellow, I’ve been looking for you,” Dorothy exclaimed as she stepped through the French doors and immediately headed Millie’s way. “I went up to your room to check on you, but . . . good heavens, it’s no wonder I didn’t find you in there, what with the horrendous décor and all.”
She pulled out a chair beside Millie and sat down. “I do hope you won’t mind, but I took the liberty of instructing Mr. Macon to have those drab drapes taken away from your room. What Everett’s decorator was thinking using all that brown, well, I really couldn’t hazard a guess, but . . . would it offend you if I took to calling you Mille instead of Miss Longfellow?”
Barely blinking an eye over that rapid change of topics, probably because she’d been around Abigail so often of late, Millie set aside her coffee. “Forgive me, but . . . why would you want to do that? If you’ve forgotten, I’m the . . . nanny.”
“Well, of course you’re the nanny, dear. That certainly isn’t in dispute. As for the other matter, well, I think it would be beneficial to the children if we provided them with a more relaxed atmosphere. That means you’ll need to call me Dorothy.”
Dorothy leaned forward, poured herself a cup of coffee from the silver pot Mrs. O’Connor had left on the table, took a sip, and then turned her gaze to the vast expanse of green lawn. “May I assume Everett and Fletcher are still off searching for bugs with the children?”
“They are, which is why I decided to take my coffee in this particular spot, in case they find themselves in need of some professional assistance. But returning to me calling you by—”
“Very wise of you, my dear, to make yourself available to Everett and Fletcher,” Dorothy interrupted before Millie could finish her point. “I have to tell you, I’ve been watching you with the children for the past day and a half, as well as watching you interact with my son, and . . . I have to admit I’m finding myself, surprisingly enough, very impressed with you.” She beamed Millie’s way right as her eyes began to sparkle almost exactly like Abigail’s did when she was . . . scheming.
Stuffing a large portion of a scone in her mouth in order to give her some much needed time to think, Millie proceeded to chew that scone for a rather long stretch of time. Finally, having no choice but to swallow it, she summoned up a smile. “I thought you weren’t really impressed with my skills as a nanny.”
Dorothy gave an airy wave of her hand. “That’s all water under the bridge, my dear, and you can’t actually blame me for my first misimpression, given the condition I found the children in. But, again, I’ve changed my mind about you, and not just about your abilities as a nanny.” Dorothy beamed another bright smile Millie’s way.
Pushing aside the thought that Dorothy was scheming, especially since Millie knew perfectly well that society mothers never schemed with regard to the staff, Millie wiped her lips with a napkin, having no idea what to say next. Luckily, Dorothy didn’t seem to be experiencing that particular problem.
“I found the dinner we shared last night to be simply delightful,” Dorothy continued. “I especially enjoyed the discussion you and Everett shared regarding books. Why
, I had no idea Everett doesn’t particularly care for Shakespeare’s writing, but I was tickled to death to learn that you were a big supporter of the Bard’s work.”
“I don’t know if I’d go so far as to claim I’m a big supporter,” Millie corrected. “If you’ll recall, I did mention that I’m not always certain what Shakespeare is actually saying.”
“You might not understand all of his work, dear, but it’s still impressive that you’re giving Shakespeare a go in the first place.” Dorothy took a sip of coffee. “It was unfortunate that Caroline made the decision not to join us last night, especially after Everett sent her a note, telling her Fletcher and I had come to Newport.”
“Ah . . . well . . . I’m sure she probably had a prior engagement she couldn’t neglect.”
Dorothy lifted her chin. “Perhaps, but . . . one would think she’d . . .” Dorothy stopped speaking midsentence and sent another smile Millie’s way. “I shouldn’t be burdening you with such talk, so . . . tell me more about how Abigail’s been doing of late. I thought for certain she would come to dinner last night.”
Millie shifted in her chair. “I fear I was probably the reason for her claiming to be indisposed, Mrs. Mulberry.”
Dorothy nodded. “Ah, you sent her a note telling her I was originally put out with what I thought were unacceptable shenanigans on her part, didn’t you.”
Millie frowned. “No, although now that you mention that, I probably should have sent her a note of warning, since she is my friend. However, I think she made herself scarce last night because I was a little put out with her over my unexpected acquiring of an entirely new wardrobe, while experiencing an unexpected loss of my normal clothes.”
“But you look completely charming this morning, as you did last night, so there’s really no need for you to be annoyed with Abigail.”
