The Nanny and Me

by Teresa Southwick

  In the lobby of his building, he slid his key card into the private elevator slot and rode the elevator to the penthouse, suddenly eager to be home. And when he walked in the door, Mia, Casey and the dog were all waiting. They started talking, and barking, all at once, and he was able to hear only the words mother, dinner, witch, poison and no way. The last words were followed by a bark from Frankie.

  Blake held up his hands. “Time-out.”

  “I won’t do it,” Mia said. “You can’t make me.”

  “Take a time-out?” he asked. “If you don’t, I won’t even hear what I can’t make you do.”

  “She’s an old witch who’s trying to buy my goodwill. I’m not falling for her act.”

  “Careful, Mia,” Casey cautioned. “She’s your uncle’s mother.”

  “So we’re talking about your grandmother,” he said to his niece.

  The girl folded her arms over her chest and glared defiantly at him. “No way.”

  “Way.” Blake shrugged. “Biologically she is your mother’s mother, which makes her your grandmother.”

  Mia started to argue the irrefutable, and the thought crossed Blake’s mind that she might make a good attorney someday. But not today. When Casey jumped into the fray, he held up his hands again.

  “One at a time, you two. I have no idea what’s going on.” He pointed to Casey. “You first. Sorry, kid, but age has its privileges,” he added when the girl opened her mouth to protest.

  “Mia’s grandmother stopped by today.” Casey shot the girl a “zip it” look when she made disapproving noises. “She came with olive branch in hand.”

  “I’d rather eat an olive branch raw than have dinner at the dork’s house.”

  Blake set his briefcase by the door and Frankie trotted over to sniff it. Warily Blake grabbed the handle and set the briefcase on the foyer table. The dog gave him a “drop dead, bastard” look that reminded him of his niece. Then he focused back on the conversation. He was guessing “the dork’s house” was his parents’ place.

  “Start at the beginning,” he advised. Being a divorce lawyer and listening to two people with opposite points of view were good training for everyday power struggles. He looked at Casey. “Again, you go first.”

  “Figures,” Mia mumbled.

  To her credit, Casey refused to engage and ignored the comment. “As I said, your mother stopped by today. Without calling.”

  He was curious why she added that. Was it a problem for her? But that would only delay the exchange of information, so he said, “Go on.”

  “She invited us to dinner. Including me,” Casey added. “I’m not sure why.”

  “My dad thinks you’re spunky.” Blake figured he and his dad had something in common. They both liked Casey.

  “I won’t go.” Mia glared at him. “If she thinks I can be bought for the price of a rice grain and a dry crust of bread, she’s wrong.”

  “Very dramatic. I don’t suppose it would do any good to point out that there are children in the world who would consider that a feast.”

  Mia huffed out a breath and rolled her eyes.

  “I didn’t think so,” he said. “Maybe the dorks want to get to know you.”

  “If the old guy did,” Mia answered, “he wouldn’t have pretended I don’t exist.”

  “He didn’t do that. Children’s services contacted him about you first and he turned the matter over to me.”

  “He gave them a big no and said nothing to my…to her.”

  “We didn’t think it through,” Blake admitted.

  “I get it,” Mia said. “He didn’t want Lady Dork to get her panties in a twist. And that will make me want to see them why?”

  “You’re family,” Casey said. “This could be the beginning of a meaningful bond.”

  “Right.” Mia’s voice dripped sarcasm. “They’re probably in trouble with the charity police and look bad for ignoring a grandkid.”

  Blake folded his arms over his chest. “Maybe they haven’t handled this whole thing in the best way, but they’re reaching out now.”

  “So?”

  “So,” Casey joined in. “I think it’s safe to say that you’ve blown through your share of relatives because, frankly, you’re not all that easy to get along with. Can you really afford not to at least accept their dinner invitation?”

  “They’re your mother’s parents,” Blake said.

  The girl looked at them, standing side by side and presenting a united front. “Yeah, I get it,” she finally said. “That makes them Grandma and Grandpa. Biologically. But they don’t act like it.”

  Blake watched Mia and a feeling of déjà vu swept over him. He remembered his younger sister, the rebellious girl who had questioned everything. She’d been difficult, but also smart, funny, beautiful. He’d loved her and now she was gone. The only part of her left was this child, who was resisting a relationship with the people who, in her opinion, wronged both her mother and her.

  Part of him couldn’t blame her. The folks had handled this badly. He didn’t know what had happened with them and his sister, but current and past history convinced him that what transpired had most likely been handled with the finesse and sensitivity of a herd of water buffalo. But Casey was right. The kid didn’t make it easy to like her.

  “Look, Mia,” he said seriously, “my guess is that your grandparents want to get to know their only grandchild. Maybe they miss their daughter.” He wouldn’t be surprised. He missed his sister.

  “I’m not going to take her place,” the girl argued.

  “No one expects that,” Casey told her. “They’re just reaching out.”

  “So what? It’s too little, too late.”

  When Frankie bumped her nose on Casey’s leg, Casey absently rubbed the dog’s head. A minute later she stopped and Frankie nudged her hand, indicating she wasn’t yet finished being rubbed.

  “It’s too late for your mother,” Casey pointed out, her tone sympathetic. “But not for you. You don’t want to look back and wish you’d given them a chance when there was time. They’d probably like to go back and change how they acted and what happened with your mom. None of us get through life without regrets about things we’ve done.”

  Blake was watching Casey and noticed the shadows that slid into her hazel eyes, turning the gold flecks to brown. It didn’t take a PhD in psychology or expert credentials in body language to see that she had regrets in a very big way. He wondered what could possibly have happened to make her look like that, so sad and guilty. Casey was talking to Mia with the voice of experience, but the kid’s next words showed that she wasn’t getting the message.

  “I don’t like them.”

  “You don’t even know them,” Casey pointed out. “Get acquainted, and then you’re allowed to have an opinion on whether or not they’re worthy of your respect and affection.”

  “They won’t like me.” Mia’s unhappy expression spoke volumes.

  Casey got it, too. “I see we’re getting to the real reason behind your behavior. Fear of rejection.”

  “I’m not afraid—”

  Casey held up her hand. “It was just an observation. I don’t blame you. But you have to take some responsibility for your behavior. I said before, and I’m not being mean, you don’t make it easy to care about you. If you’re rude and mouthy, it gives people a reason to brush you off that isn’t about rejecting you as a person.”

  Blake had some experience with rejection as a person. His wife had turned to another guy, and not just anyone. His closest friend had ended up in her bed. He’d done his best to give her what she wanted and it hadn’t been enough.

  “There’s a lot of truth to what Casey is saying.” Blake knew the kid didn’t like hearing that. “And you’ve got plenty of reasons to feel the way you do.”

  “Then I don’t have to go—”

  “I didn’t say that.” He held up his hand. “I want to talk to Casey about this before I make up my mind.”

  “Mia, why don�
�t you take Frankie out for a walk?” Casey met his gaze. “You probably aren’t aware of this, but there’s a dog run in the complex. And Pete with building security will keep an eye on them.”

  “Okay.” Blake looked at his niece. “You heard Casey.”

  The kid wanted to object, but apparently the safety-in-numbers rule applied, because she looked at the two adults, who stood shoulder to shoulder, then wordlessly got the dog’s leash and left with the animal.

  Blake ran his fingers through his hair. “What do you think?”

  “You get to make the decision. I’m the hired help. You’re the man of the house.”

  The fact that he was a man was never far from his mind when he looked at her. Right now he couldn’t take his eyes off her mouth, and his hands itched to discover every part of her. He wanted to explore the lips he had only touched for seconds yet couldn’t manage to forget. The depth of her appeal was uncharted and the effort to keep from charting it was taking a toll on his willpower.

  “Still,” he managed to say, “I’d like your opinion. Will dinner with my folks help or hurt Mia?”

  Casey shook her head. “I don’t have my crystal ball on me at the moment. The fact is, not even an expert in child psychology could answer that question. Best guess?”

  He’d take her best guess over expert opinion any day. “Absolutely.”

  “I think Mia is protesting too much. She’s the one who started this scenario in motion by showing up at her grandparents. Her actions are saying, ‘Notice me.’ But her defiance is about protecting her feelings. If they don’t like her, she can say she was right. She told us so.”

  “Then we should call her bluff and meet the folks halfway?”

  She nodded. “If for no other reason than it covers your backside.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’d give your mother a call and accept the invitation so that in the future Mia can’t blame you for keeping her from her family.”

  Casey ran her tongue over her lips and he couldn’t see anything except himself kissing her. Suddenly it seemed like the blood from his brain headed to points south of his belt and all coherent thought stalled.

  “Point taken,” he managed to say. “And I agree.”

  When Casey smiled, he was far too happy that she’d approved of his answer. And when he managed to use his brain for rational reflection again, he would try and figure out why that was so important.

  Chapter Seven

  Dinner at the Deckers’ could be more awkward and uncomfortable, but Casey wasn’t sure how. Blake was doing his best to keep the conversation going, but Mia was sullen and uncooperative and wouldn’t engage, even though the older couple had fixed a kid favorite, burgers and fries. Lincoln and Patricia would probably need a triple dose of cholesterol-lowering meds after serving fat-heavy foods to thaw their granddaughter’s cold feelings.

  Clearly that had been Patricia’s intent when she’d come by the penthouse to issue the invitation. Even Lincoln was on his best behavior, conciliatory and subdued compared to the last time Casey had been here. His wife had probably given him a talking-to and he’d gotten the message.

  The five of them were sitting around a dining room table long enough to land a jumbo jet, and the dark wood looked sturdy enough to hold the weight. A matching breakfront and buffet took up a lot of space in the big room. Delicate china, silver and crystal looked beautiful and dignified on a light green linen tablecloth. The formal setting seemed at odds with the menu, but it convinced Casey that the older couple was trying. So far the kid wasn’t cutting them any slack.

  “That was one of the best burgers I’ve had in a long time.” Casey glanced from one end of the table to the other, at their host and hostess. “Do you barbecue often, Lincoln?”

  “We have a housekeeper who does all the cooking,” Patricia answered. “I gave her the night off so it would just be family.”

  Her husband set his cloth napkin on the table. “I forgot how much I enjoy it.”

  After yet another uncomfortable silence Blake cleared his throat. “I don’t grill anymore, either. And I used to be pretty good at it.”

  “You’ve been able to get home for dinner more often lately,” Casey said, meeting his gaze across the expanse of table. “You should try it again.”

  “Maybe I will.” Blake glanced at his niece, to Casey’s left. “What do you think, Mia? Steak or chicken?”

  “Whatever.” She slouched lower in her chair.

  Casey noted with amusement that she’d eaten a good-size burger and an impressive number of fries for a kid who couldn’t be bought with a grain of rice and a dry bread crust. Maybe the fact that she’d enjoyed the food served by the very people she’d vowed to hate was partly the reason for more attitude than usual.

  “Let Mia and me help you clean up,” Casey offered.

  “That’s very kind of you.” There was a strain in the smile Patricia settled on everyone around the table. “Dessert, anyone? I have the makings for ice cream sundaes.”

  Casey knew that was one of Mia’s favorites and looked to her left for a reaction. Eagerness gleamed in the girl’s eyes for a moment; then it disappeared, replaced by a deliberate mask of bored indifference.

  “Mia?” Patricia looked at her granddaughter. “Do you like ice cream?”

  “Not much.”

  “Oh.” Disappointment clouded the older woman’s expression. “I thought it would go best with a casual dinner. Probably I should have asked what you preferred.”

  Casey was starting to feel sorry for the Deckers. They had made a lot of mistakes, no question about that. But the fact that this couple, who were probably more the pheasant-under-glass type, had served burgers and fries seemed like an obvious sign that they wanted to make amends. It didn’t appear that Mia planned to bend anytime soon, so maybe a little help in that direction would be in order.

  “Patricia, do you have pictures of Mia’s mom?” Casey could feel the glare from the girl and the startled look from Blake. She ignored both.

  “Yes.” The older woman looked grateful, then glanced at Mia. “Would you like to see them?”

  Before the kid could snap out an abrasive response, Casey said, “That’s a great idea.”

  “I’ll go get them.” Patricia pushed her chair back and stood.

  “Let me help,” Lincoln offered.

  Casey caught Blake’s eye and said, “Why don’t you give your folks a hand? Mia and I will clear the table.”

  Blake looked doubtful but said, “Okay.”

  When they’d carried a load of dishes to the kitchen, Mia said, “This is so lame.”

  “Including the food?” Casey set the plates in the sink, with Mia’s empty one on top. “Let’s go get the rest.”

  Mia did as asked, but if she’d moved any slower, she’d have gone backward. When they had the table cleaned off and the dishes arranged in the dishwasher, Casey leaned back against the cupboard.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Mia glared. “I can’t believe you made me come here.”

  “Technically, it was your uncle who made the decision.” Casey remembered the expression on Blake’s face when she’d said he was the man of the house. Even now the hungry look in his eyes made her shiver. But that wasn’t something to deal with now. “He thought it was important for you to know your family.”

  “This is so wrong.” Mia slumped against the island, elbows on the top, and rested her chin in her hands.

  “I know you’re angry and you have every right to be,” Casey said. “But they can give you something no one else can.”

  “What? Nothing?”

  “No. Memories of your mom.” Sadness and regret rolled through her. “Take it from me that’s something you’re going to want.”

  “What do you know about it?” The misery in her expression took away the hostility in her words.

  “When I was just about your age, my mother died of cancer. Just like your mom.”

  Mia’s eyes fi
lled with pain. “Do you still miss her?”

  “Very much. And photos are all I have of her.” This child didn’t need to know that Casey’s father had withdrawn and hadn’t even shared himself after her mom died. “Your grandparents are reaching out. You don’t have to let them off the hook. It’s okay to make them accountable, but don’t cut off your nose to spite your face.”

  Mia’s mouth curved up just a fraction. “What does that even mean?”

  Casey laughed. “Old expression. It just means that refusing to look at pictures of your mother will just punish you in the long run.”

  Mia stared at her for so long that Casey thought she’d refuse. Finally she nodded. When they turned, Blake was standing in the doorway with a bemused expression on his face.

  “You did this to me,” Mia said as she walked past him.

  Casey looked at him and shrugged. “No good deed goes unpunished.”

  “Tell me about it.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he stared after his niece. “I heard what you said.”

  “I figured.”

  “Have you ever heard the saying that people come into our lives for a season and a reason? Or something like that.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I can’t help feeling that way about you.”

  “Oh?” Her heart started to pound. Darn it.

  “Yeah. I’m fairly sure there are other nannies with strong child-care credentials and an impressive skill set. But your background gives you an empathy someone else might not have.”

  “Yeah.”

  She remembered thinking something similar at their first meeting, when her heart had gone out to the motherless girl. What she hadn’t realized then was how the rest of her female parts would respond to her boss. It didn’t make the assignment impossible, but it certainly challenged her in ways she’d never been challenged before. And the way he was looking at her now didn’t help.

  “You’re a remarkable woman, Casey.” He folded his arms over his chest. “You’re good with Mia and not afraid of my parents. That’s quite a combination.”