A Nanny In The Family. Catherine Spencer
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Aware of the slender hold she had on her emotions, and knowing that the Commander would pick up on any false move, Nicole spent the interval schooling herself to composure. She had just this one last hurdle to clear. No matter what it cost her, she must present a calm and reassuring front if she wanted to convince him beyond any doubt that she was the best possible nanny for Tommy.
She thought she had succeeded. She thought that all the years of working in ICU would stand her in good stead. This, after all, was a healthy little child, not some poor, sickly soul with no future. But when the door opened and she saw the boy in the Commander’s arms, she forgot everything: her training, her rehearsing, her lies. Everything.
“This is Tom, Miss Bennett.”
Instead of saying something rational like, “Hello, Tommy, it’s nice to meet you,” Nicole pressed her fingers to her mouth to stop its trembling and whispered, “Oh! Oh, I knew he would be beautiful, but I had no idea he’d be so completely perfect!”
“Wait until he’s woken you up at five in the morning three days in a row, before you decide that,” the Commander said dryly, swinging Tommy to the floor.
The child staggered a little against his uncle’s knee and regarded Nicole from big solemn eyes. His face was flushed with sleep and his hair damp on one side from perspiration. A worn baby quilt trailed from one dimpled hand.
The need to hold him, to press his sweetly rounded little body close to her heart, left Nicole aching. But she dared not gratify that need; the tears simmered too close to the surface, threatening to gush forth and destroy the image she’d struggled so hard to present. Instead she turned aside, quickly, before the spasm contorting her features gave her away, rummaged blindly in her bag for a tissue, and dabbed at her nose.
“Forgive me,” she said, praying the Commander hadn’t noticed anything amiss. “I thought I felt a sneeze coming on but it changed its mind.”
“You have a cold, perhaps?”
“No,” she hastened to assure him. “I’m as healthy as the proverbial horse.” Then before she gave rise to any other suspicions, she squatted down and drummed up a smile for Tommy. “Hi, sweetheart. I’m Nicole.”
“Hi,” he said, and she thought that if angels spoke, they would sound just as he did.
“That’s a really nice quilt you’ve got. Do you take it to bed with you?”
“Yes,” he said, detaching himself from his uncle’s leg and advancing a step or two closer to her. “It’s my dee-dee.”
“It’s a blanket, Tom,” the Commander said, kindly enough. “Big boys don’t use baby talk. Let me see you shake hands with Miss Bennett.”
Heavenly days, the man had no more idea how to speak to a four-year-old than she had to an orangutan! “Why don’t you show me the garden, instead?” she said, sensing the child’s discomfort with the adult behavior expected of him. “If your uncle doesn’t mind...?”
Somewhat after the fact, she glanced at the Commander. “Not at all,” he said. “It will give you a chance to become better acquainted. Go ahead and show Miss Bennett the garden, Tom.”
“All right.” Tommy perked up. “But not the pool. I’m not allowed to go to the pool by myself. It’s against the rules.”
“Not the pool,” Nicole agreed. “I’d rather see the flowers, instead.”
He considered her for a moment, then came forward and took her hand. “I have a garden at home,” he told her chattily. “I planted seeds in it and watered them.”
“Did you?” she said, enchanted by him.
“Yes. And they grew as big as a tree.” He gestured grandly, his face alive with excitement.
“Now, Tom!” his “uncle” warned. “Remember we talked about exaggerating? Stick to the facts, please.”
Truly, she would need to tape her mouth shut if this was the man’s idea of dealing with a child of four! Swallowing the objections fairly itching to make themselves heard, Nicole gave Tommy’s hand a reassuring squeeze.
It didn’t console him. “I’m just teasing,” he said, the animation in his face seeping away and his lip trembling ominously. “Mommy laughs when I tease her. I want to see my mommy. Can I go home now?”
“He keeps asking me that,” the Commander muttered, a flash of panic sparking in his blue eyes, “and I don’t know quite what to tell him.”
“Since you’re so anxious to stick to the facts, perhaps you should tell him the truth,” she said, then turned again to her nephew. “You’re living here now, darling, but we can go and see your house sometime, if you like.”
“Will Mommy be there?” he asked, the question enough to bring the lump back to Nicole’s throat, bigger than ever.
“No, Tommy. But perhaps we can find a picture of her.”
“Oh.” He fingered the quilt again. “And one of Daddy, as well, right?”
“Yes, darling.”
He tilted his head and smiled at her. “The flowers are red,” he said.
Grateful beyond words that he’d chosen to change the subject before she collapsed in yet another soggy heap of tears, Nicole said teasingly, “What, all of them?”
“And yellow and purple.” He tugged on her hand. “And pink and black and purple.”
“Black?” she echoed, allowing him to lead her out of the French doors and into the sunlight. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen black flowers before. Show them to me.”
“There are no black flowers, Tom,” the Commander chastised. “You mustn’t tell untruths.”
Oh, please! Nicole rolled her eyes and wondered if the man had any memory at all of being young and full of wonder at a world whose magic was limited only by the scope of imagination.
“Purple,” Tommy said obligingly. “Very purple. I prefer purple flowers.”
“You prefer?” Nicole laughed for what seemed the first time in years.
“He uses some very adult words at times,” the Commander said. “Then, for no reason, he suddenly reverts to baby talk which I must admit I find annoying.”
You would, she thought. You’d prefer him to take a giant leap from infancy to adulthood, with nothing in between to cushion the transition. “They all do, Commander, at this age. It’s not uncommon and he’ll stop a lot sooner if we don’t make a big deal about it.”
“You might be right, I suppose.”
“I am right,” she assured him. “Trust me, I’ve handled enough four-year-olds to know.”
He inclined his head in what she supposed was agreement and removed a key from a ring he withdrew from his pocket. “I’ll leave the two of you to become better acquainted. If you’d like to go down to the beach, there are steps at the end of the property but you’ll need this to get through the gate. Please be sure you lock it behind you when you come back. I don’t want the boy going down there unsupervised. The tides are treacherous.”
He stood on the patio and watched them a moment or two then turned back to the house at the sound of a woman’s voice, too silvery to be Janet’s, calling his name. Nicole heard the deep rumble of his response and a waterfall of feminine laughter drift out on the still air. Who was the visitor? she wondered. The woman in his life?
She hoped so. The more he was occupied with other affairs, the less time he would have to interfere in her relationship with Tommy.
She looked down at the child by her side and felt her heart swell with love. He was blond and blue-eyed, like his mother. His skin was soft and fine, his cheeks pink, his sturdy little legs slightly suntanned.