Nanny in Hiding. Patricia Kay
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“I’m sorry, but I don’t have a crib for her. I do have a cot, though.”
“Calista doesn’t sleep in a crib anymore, anyway.”
“If you don’t want the cot, she can have a room of her own, whichever you think is best.”
“She can just sleep with me.”
“Are you sure?”
Amy smiled. “I’m sure. That’s what we would have done if we’d gotten a hotel. This is perfect.”
“All right. Why don’t I leave you two alone for a little while, then? You can unpack your things while I make a phone call, okay? Then we can start catching up.”
“Okay.”
When Lorna had gone back downstairs, Amy sank onto the bed and let Calista explore the room. What she wouldn’t give to be able to remain here for a couple of days, but she knew she couldn’t afford to overstay her welcome. If Lorna should offer, that would be one thing. But Amy couldn’t ask.
While Calista played contentedly with the stuffed animal, talking her own version of “bear” talk to him, Amy unpacked their night clothes. It was probably pointless to take anything else out of the suitcases, since in all probability she would be on the road again in the morning, but she did take clean shorts and tops out for both of them to wear tomorrow.
“Okay, sweetie, time to say bye-bye to Bear.”
Calista gave her a dark look, shaking her head and hugging the bear tighter.
Amy sighed. “Oh, all right. You can take Bear downstairs.”
As the two slowly descended the stairs, Amy heard Lorna saying goodbye to someone, and by the time they reached the entry, Lorna had come out to meet them.
“Are either of you hungry? We won’t be having dinner until seven-thirty or later, but I have cheese and crackers and fruit we could have now.”
“I know Calista’s hungry,” Amy said, praying that her daughter wouldn’t turn her nose up at the snack and start demanding a hamburger again.
“Let’s go back to the kitchen, then.”
The kitchen was exactly what Amy would have expected it to be: big, bright and cheerful—done in pale yellow with red accents—and dominated by a fireplace at one end and a big, round oak table in the center. Looking like a Currier & Ives print, the fireplace was flanked on one side by an oak rocking chair and on the other by a fat calico cat who eyed them as they entered the room.
“Kitty!” Calista shouted, immediately racing over to the feline.
“Calista, don’t touch the cat,” Amy said, rushing after her daughter. “Sometimes cats scratch.”
“It’s okay,” Lorna said. “Buttercup is an unusual cat. She actually likes little kids.”
And she did seem to, Amy saw, because when Calista reached out to pet the cat’s head, Buttercup actually leaned into the caress, and Amy heard her purr.
Calista laughed delightedly and sat down on the hearth next to the cat. Amy watched for a while, but quickly realized she didn’t need to worry.
“Can I help you?” she asked Lorna.
“Thanks, but there’s nothing much to do. Just have a seat.”
Within minutes the table was laden with the cheese and crackers, a bunch of red seedless grapes and a wedge of some kind of paté that looked wonderful.
“Milk for Calista?” she asked.
“Please.”
“I’ve even got a sip cup left from my nieces.”
“Great.”
It took some doing to get Calista away from Buttercup, but after promising her if she ate everything, she could play with the cat again, she came to the table. Once she was happily eating, the two friends finally had a chance to talk.
“Before we start filling in what’s happened since we last saw each other,” Lorna said, “I just wanted to give you a heads-up. Tonight there’s a dinner party being given at my family’s home to celebrate my grandmother’s ninetieth birthday, and you and Calista are invited to come, too.”
“Oh, no, we couldn’t,” Amy said. “You go on and don’t worry about us. We’ll just find something to eat in town somewhere.”
“There’s no way I’m letting you ‘find something to eat’ while I go off to a party.”
“It’s not like you invited us to come,” Amy pointed out. “We practically invited ourselves. I don’t want you changing your plans because of us.”
“Look, I’m not leaving you here alone. I called the house and told my grandmother about you, and she insisted I bring you along tonight. She said it would be the height of rudeness to leave a guest home alone while I went out to dinner.” Lorna grinned. “Believe me, when Grandmother Stella issues a command, a good Hathaway obeys.”
Amy had to admit she was curious about Lorna’s family, especially her grandmother, whom Lorna had mentioned more than once in that year they’d been roommates. But tonight was such a special occasion, and Amy and Calista were outsiders. It just didn’t seem right for them to be taking part in a family celebration.
“Now, we only have about an hour until we have to start getting ready. Grandmother’s a stickler for punctuality and tonight’s shindig starts at seven…so let’s quit wasting time arguing about whether you’re coming with me or not and let’s catch up.”
In the next twenty minutes Amy learned that Lorna had come back to Morgan Creek after getting her master’s degree and had worked in the family business ever since. She had been married, she said, but was now divorced, and had no children. This last had been relayed matter-of-factly, but Lorna couldn’t disguise the longing she obviously felt. It was there every time she looked at Calista, and Amy felt bad for her friend. Calista was the light of her life, the best thing that had ever happened to her—despite the fact she’d had to be married to Cole to get her—and Amy felt sorry for everyone who hadn’t experienced that same joy, especially when it was so obvious they wanted children.
“Now let’s hear everything about you,” Lorna said when she’d finished.
Amy looked over at Calista.
Lorna immediately nodded. “Calista, would you like to play with Buttercup in the backyard? She needs to get some exercise.”
Calista grinned. “Yeah!”
“We can sit on the back porch and watch her,” Lorna said to Amy.
Once they were settled outside—with Calista playing happily and out of earshot, Amy felt free to talk.
“Like you, I’m divorced. My ex lives in Shreveport. He’s an investment banker.” Neither was true. Cole was a high-powered lawyer turned politician and he lived in Mobile, but Amy knew from the women in the underground network that she couldn’t afford to take any chances or trust anyone, no matter who, and had rehearsed the story she would tell to everyone from now on.
“He never really wanted children,” she continued, “so he didn’t object when I decided to head for the West Coast where I understand teachers—even preschool teachers like me—make really good money.” This was partially true. Cole hadn’t wanted children. After all, how could he remain the center of Amy’s universe if he had to share her with a child? But he would have objected violently to Amy’s leaving Mobile with Calista if he’d known about it. Not because he cared about Calista, but because he knew Amy did.
The divorce had infuriated Cole. He’d fought Amy every step of the way. Where she’d gotten the strength to actually leave him and file for divorce, she’d never know, because Cole had beaten her down so much over the years, it had always been easier to just go along with whatever it was he wanted