by Shéa MacLeod
"I see."
"I has been a difficult adjustment for us all." She cleared her throat.
"I'm sure. I'm very sorry for your loss."
That seemed to nonplus her. "Thank you. The point is both Evander and I are responsible for all major decisions concerning the twins, and Evander spends time with them as much as possible and so on. But they live here with me."
Yeah, I got that. Did she think I was stupid? "Okay."
"You are technically employed by the trust John and Meg set up for the boys before they died, but you answer to me. Is that clear?"
"Crystal." Marking her territory much?
"Although if Evander has any input he can, of course, give it." Again, she was clearly not thrilled about having to deal with Evander. I couldn't figure out why. He seemed like a decent guy. At least he was living up to his responsibilities. Unlike some that could be named.
Bella went on to outline my duties, which were pretty much the usual: care and feeding of the twins, getting them to school, and so on. Viola was there to help with the feeding part and a company came in once a week to do proper cleaning. Frankly, it sounded like a walk in the park after Portland Prep.
I tried to hold back the yawn, but jet lag was catching up with me despite the nap. "Sorry," I mumbled.
"I think you should get off to bed. The twins wake up early."
"Sure thing." I staggered to my feet, barely noticing Evander had risen to his, as well. Just like Downton Abbey. I paused in the doorway. "And Bella, thanks. I'm really excited to be here."
"Of course," she said stiffly, although I sensed underneath she was pleased I'd said so.
I started up the stairs, their voices a low rumble behind me. I paused as I caught Bella's next words. "You should leave that girl alone." Her voice was a waspish snap.
I paused to listen. Eavesdropping might be rude, but they were talking about me. I had the right to know.
"I don't see that it's any of your business." Evander's tone was mild.
"She is so…low class. Not our sort at all, Evander. What would your parents think?"
I rolled my eyes and continued quietly up the stairs so they wouldn't know I'd been eavesdropping. Low class, my ass. Forget Downton Abbey, this was full on Jane Austen.
Chapter 4
The next day dawned not exactly bright but definitely early. It was just past five in the morning when two cannonballs barreled onto my bed and started jumping up and down and screeching.
There were two ways I could handle this. I decided the answer was decisively.
Leaping from the bed, nearly dislodging the overactive giant bedbugs, I snapped out in a crisp tone my mother would have been proud of, "Reece and Riley Cartwright. Front and center." Oh, lord. I realized I was channeling my father. Oh, well, in for a penny and all that.
I threw back my shoulders and stared down my nose imperiously. It would have been far more impressive if I'd had my father's rather remarkable Roman nose. Instead I had a small, perfectly straight one. However I'd been told I could look scary fierce when I needed to. So, scary fierce was what I did.
The boys tumbled to the floor in front of me, drawing themselves straight up and looking half terrified. Their green eyes were wide as they stared up at me. Gosh, they were cute. They'd have been a lot cuter if it hadn't been five in the freaking morning.
"This room is my domain," I snapped out. "It is off limits. Repeat after me: off limits."
"Off limits," the boys chanted in their adorable little accents. There was a moment's pause, and then the one on the left blurted, "What's 'off limits' mean?"
"It means, uh"—I scrambled for a phrase that might make sense to them—"out of bounds. Do you understand that?"
They both nodded eagerly.
"Excellent. From this day forward, if you require my assistance and I am within this room, you will knock and you will wait to enter until you have received my approval. What will you do from this day forward?"
"Knock and wait for you to say okay," they chimed.
"Excellent. Now, do you know what time it is?"
They stared at each other and then back at me, their eyes growing wider and their mouths making little O's. "Twelve o'clock," one of them suggested. I had no idea which twin it was. They were identical right down to the red footy pajamas.
"Not even close. It is five o'clock in the morning. This is Saturday. There is no school. Therefore there is no reason to be awake at this hour of the morning. Understood?"
They nodded. "But…"
"No buts. From this day forward, when it is the weekend, you will remain quietly in your rooms until the clock says seven. You do know how to read time, don't you?"
They both shook their heads. I didn't imagine they would ever be this cooperative again. I had to take advantage of it.
"Very well. That is the first thing we will learn this morning. Do you have a clock in your room?"
They shook their heads again. Well, that was another thing on the to-do list.
"Come here." I sat on the bed and patted the mattress. They both climbed aboard, and I spent the next few minutes instructing them on the telling of time using an old-fashioned clock face. Which, believe me, is no mean feat before coffee.
By the time we were done with our lesson, and the three of us were dressed with beds made, it was a reasonable hour for breakfast. I heard Viola banging around in the kitchen as we approached, and the rich scent of coffee filled the air.
"I didn't know you worked on the weekends," I said as I settled the boys at the kitchen island.
"I don't usually. But with the boys here, Ms. Bella needed extra help. And since this is your first day, I didn't want to leave you twisting in the wind."
I grinned. "I appreciate it."
"Here." She thrust a steaming mug of coffee in my direction. "Looks like you could use this."
"Oh, thank you. You've no idea." I took my first sip. Nirvana.
"Personally, there's nothing like good, strong, English tea, but I keep some Italian coffee around for Evander. He prefers it."
"I'll be sure and buy some of my own."
"Oh, don't worry about it," she said waving her hand. "I'll just double up next time I'm at the shop. Until then, Evan won't mind sharing." She gave me a pointed look, which I ignored. Apparently Viola thought Evander would be happy to share much more than coffee with me. The very idea thrilled me to my toes, but I couldn't dwell on that. I was here for a job, not a boyfriend. And as Bella had clearly stated last night, he was out of my league.
"Well, thanks again."
Viola slapped three bowls down on the island. "Porridge for breakfast. Eat up. You need your strength."
"Porridge" turned out to be oatmeal. The boys groaned and moaned and poked at the gray mush with their spoons.
"Oh, yum," I said with glee. "I love porridge."
The twins gave me doubtful looks.
"No, seriously. It's yummy. Viola, have you any brown sugar and raisins?"
Viola gave me a strange look. "Will sultanas do?"
I had no idea what sultanas were. "Um…"
Viola pulled out a box and handed it to me. Apparently sultanas were big raisins. "These will work."
She rummaged around in the cupboards and pulled out brown sugar. I proceeded to properly doctor my oatmeal before adding milk. The twins watched with interest as I took a bite, moaning in delight like it was the most exquisite dessert. Quickly they grabbed the bags, fighting over who would get to put brown sugar in their cereal first. Once they had fixed their own bowls, they chowed down like they hadn't been fed in a week.
"Well, I never," Viola said with a shake of her head. "Those boys never eat their porridge without a fight."
I grinned. "It's all in the approach."
# # #
By the time we finished breakfast, it was what the British refer to as "pissing down rain," or what we Americans call "raining cats and dogs." An hour later, the torrential downpour gave no sign of letting up, and the t
wins were getting restless.
Well, restless might be an understatement. The two of them started fighting over a crayon, and the next thing I knew, Reece had bashed Riley over the head with the first toy he could grab, which fortunately happened to be a stuffed rhinoceros. When they were little, one of my brothers had bashed the other over the head with an empty coffee can. The resulting gash had created a blood bath, a trip to the hospital, and a scar that remained until this day. I would have hated a similar mishap on my first day of work.
"All right, that's it. Coats and boots on."
"You mean wellies," piped up Riley. Or I think it was Riley.
"Yes. Wellies. Do you have rain hats?"
"No, but we've got brollies," Reece piped up. At least I thought it was Reece. I was going to have to start dressing them differently or get them name tags.
"Brollies?"
They pointed chubby fingers in the direction of the wardrobe. There, hanging next to the raincoats, were two clear plastic umbrellas: brollies.
I grabbed the bright yellow raincoats and handed them to the boys. "Fantastic," I said. "Let's get ready."
"Those aren't coats," one of them said. Riley, I thought. "Those are macs."
"Okay, macs. Get your macs on."
"Where are we going?" Reece asked.
"The Natural History Museum."
They gave me blank looks.
"We're going to see the dinosaurs."
With whoops and shrieks of excitement, they ran around the room. I finally got them corralled so I could get their coats and boots on. Then I dashed upstairs to get my own. They followed me, yelling and cheering and chanting, "Dinosaur! Dinosaur!" Finally ready, I herded them out onto the street, suddenly realizing I had no idea where to go next.
"Lost?" a voice rumbled near my ear.
I jumped about a foot. "Mr. Cartwright."
"You can call me Evander. Or Evan, if you like."
"Uncle Evan!" More shrieks from the boys as they launched themselves at what was clearly one of their favorite people.
"What are you doing here?" I asked. "Don't you have to work?"
"Took the day off. The boys can be a handful, and I thought it might help having a familiar face around." The way he looked at me, his green eyes so intense, I got the distinct impression he wasn't just there for the boys.
I swallowed. "Sure. That would be great. I was about to take them to the Natural History Museum. You know, dinosaurs." That started up the chanting again.
Evander chuckled. "A child's paradise. Smart thinking. I'll come with you."
"Sure, okay."
"Tube station's this way." He guided us down the street and around the corner to the Notting Hill Gate tube station.
The place was a madhouse, hordes of people, tourists and locals alike, crowding in and out of the station. The stiles made a slapping sound as the gates opened and shut, letting one person through at a time. It was noisy and stank of mildewed coats and greasy motors. I tried not to wrinkle my nose. The chaos was overwhelming.
I grabbed hold of the boys tightly. Just my luck I'd lose them in here and have to explain to the uptight Bella I'd misplaced her nephews. They whined at my tight grip, but I refused to let go.
"Hey," Evander said softly, guiding me to the edge of the crowd. He squeezed my upper arm gently, his hand lingering a little longer than necessary. "It's okay. This is totally normal. The boys will be fine. You wait here, I'll get tickets."
I nodded, fighting back the blush that he'd caught me at a weak moment. Evander disappeared into the crowd, returning a few minutes later, tickets in hand.
We each took charge of a boy and squeezed our way through the stiles and onto the escalators. In typical American fashion, I stood on the left, but Evander gently nudged me to the right and nodded toward the signs politely requesting everyone stand to the right. I soon realized why as impatient travelers sans small children charged down the escalator on the left.
Along the edge of the tube platform was painted the iconic "Mind the Gap." The boys danced excitedly on the edge of the white safety line. Evander and I snagged them by the hoods and held them back as the tube whooshed into the station.
The tube was crowded, and we were forced to stand, the boys clinging to our legs and looking about excitedly. They didn't seem nearly as overwhelmed by the sea of humanity as I was, but they stayed close. Maybe because their uncle was there. The train lurched and I staggered a bit, grabbing for the yellow pole in the center of the carriage. Evander steadied me, his palm warm on my back even through my coat.
"Thanks," I muttered.
"Just hang on," he said. "It can be a bit bumpy when you're not used it."
Someone jostled me, and Evander wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me tightly against him, the twins sandwiched safely between us. I fought down another, fiercer blush. His scent drew me like a moth to flame. Something heady with a touch of spice. Sandalwood, maybe. A little cinnamon and…vanilla? Whatever it was, he smelled delicious. I tried to ignore the fact we were plastered against each other and my heart was beating faster than a hummingbird's wings.
The tube spat us out at South Kensington Station. I wasn't sure whether to be relieved we were out of the crush or disappointed there was no longer an excuse for Evander to touch me. Until he opened his large, black umbrella and pulled me beneath it. We were pressed against each other from hip to shoulder. I barely repressed a happy shiver.
We tromped along like one big happy family, the twins chattering under their brollies about the forthcoming dinosaurs. The museum came into sight, and they dashed ahead, pausing long enough to stomp in a few rain puddles. Evander and I said nothing, but the silence wasn't awkward. It was warm and fuzzy, like walking along together was the most natural thing in the world.
The dinosaurs were a hit. They roared, and the boys roared back. Evander and I took turns reading aloud from plaques and lifting the boys so they could see the exhibits more clearly. We also swung by the Volcanoes and Earthquakes gallery, which resulted in a lot of five-year-old explosions as they mimicked the sounds of volcanoes.
"Time for lunch," Evander said. "You want to eat here in the museum or at Giraffe?"
"Giraffe! Giraffe!" The boys jumped up and down with wild exuberance.
"What on earth is Giraffe?" I asked.
"Only the best waffles ever."
"Waffles. For lunch?"
"They have other things, but trust me. You want to leave room for waffles."
Chapter 5
Evander had been right about the waffles. They were the best I'd ever tasted, drizzled in caramel sauce and topped with whipped cream. It was a wonder the twins weren't bouncing off the rafters from the sugar high. Instead they were industriously coloring the pictures the waitress had brought them.
"Thank you so much for coming with us today," I said quietly. "It was a little overwhelming my first time out. I'm not used to so many people. Portland is a lot smaller."
He chuckled. "I imagine. And no worries. I had fun. I love spending time with Reece and Riley, and I wish I could do it more often." There was a grim set to his mouth that told me there was a lot more to this story.
"Can I ask why they live with Bella instead of you? She seems, um, not used to children."
He snorted. "That's one way of putting it. Truth is, I'd have taken them in a heartbeat, but for whatever reason, my brother and Meg wanted Bella to have them. Maybe they knew something I don't." He shrugged. "But for now it's working, and I'm not about to rock the boat. I intend to play a very big role in their lives, though."
"I think that's great. So many men would run in the other direction."
"Then they're not men, are they?"
He had a point. "Still, it's amazing what you're doing."
He shrugged it off as if it was nothing. But I knew to those boys it wasn't "nothing."
"I wanted to say again how sorry I am about your brother. I know it's hard losing someone you love."
He glanced over
at the boys, but they were engrossed in their art project. "It's been tough. Especially for them. But we're getting there. Who did you lose?"
"My grandmother. When I was fifteen."
"I'm sorry." He reached over and squeezed my hand, sending sparks dancing along my skin. "Were you close?"
"Very. I cried for a week." I gave him a half-hearted smile. "Eventually it got better. I still think about her a lot. Miss her. But it doesn't hurt anymore. I kind of think of her like my guardian angel." Although she could have done a better job recently. Then again, I suppose letting me know Neil was a cheating scumbag was probably her way of protecting me.
"I like that," Evander said. "John though, he'd make a terrible guardian angel."
"Really? Why?"
He laughed. "Oh, gosh, we used to fight something terrible. Brothers, you know. This one time I was playing with a train set, and he got mad because he wanted to play with it."
"What did he do?"
"He smacked me across the face with the engine. Broke my nose and I had to get three stitches. Our mother was furious, but he thought it was funny."
My eyes widened. "Well, now I know where they get it." I told him about the boys' earlier fight.
He laughed. "They're a lot like John and me at that age." He sighed. "God, I miss him sometimes." His green eyes turned bleak. This time it was my turn to reach out and squeeze his hand.
He cleared his throat. "You say this gets better?"
"Eventually."
He nodded, his eyes still on the boys. Then he cleared his throat. "Listen, Anna, I wanted to ask you—"
"Evan? What are you doing here?" A woman stopped next to our booth. She was tall, probably five seven, and rail thin. She had to be to pull off the designer duds she was wearing. Her dark hair fell in thick waves past her shoulders. She must spend a fortune at the salon. Her nails were pale pink and expertly manicured. Every inch of her was polished to perfection and screamed "expensive." I suddenly felt dowdy and underdressed. Her dark eyes lit on me and I, could tell she was thinking the same thing. She gave me a haughty smirk. "Who is this?"
