Professor And The Nanny. Phyllis Halldorson
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chime of the bell a few minutes later sent him striding quickly to the door. He opened it and caught his breath. She was even more lovely than he’d remembered. The tan pantsuit she was wearing was strictly tailored, even masculine in its lines, but there was nothing androgynous in the way she filled it out. Her full breasts thrust gently against the material of the blouse, and the curve of her hips under the slacks was definitely not mannish.
It was a good thing they would meet for only a few minutes each day coming and going. He’d never be able to resist the temptation she was stirring in him if it lasted much longer!
“Professor? Is something the matter?” Her voice broke into his musing, and he realized he’d been standing there staring at her like a starstruck teenager.
He blinked and shook his head. “No, please, come in.”
He moved aside to let her pass him, and got a whiff of the aroma of spring flowers. Delicate and pleasing.
“Where’s your dad?” she asked as she deposited her purse and her medical kit on the table in the foyer.
“He’s not up yet,” Ethan said. “Lately I’ve been having to wake him to give him his shot and his breakfast before I leave to go to the university, but that interrupts his rest. Now that you’ll be coming every morning he can sleep a little longer.”
She smiled. “Fine. I’ll be happy to take over.”
“How about a cup of coffee?” he asked, glancing at his watch even though he knew exactly what time it was. He hoped the gesture would make her think it was a spur-of-the-moment invitation rather than the eagerly thought-out proposal it really was. “I don’t have to leave for a few minutes yet.”
“I’d like that,” Brittany said softly, and walked with him through the kitchen on the left side of the staircase to the small room they called the breakfast room. Ethan had pointed it out to her when he took her on a tour of the house the day he hired her. The sun streaming through the sheer curtains that covered the large windows flooded the area with light and bathed it in an aura of cheerfulness.
There was a round table and four chairs in the middle of the room, and two other chairs in the corners. A chest-high breakfast bar separated the two rooms, and potted tropical plants added shafts of color.
The electric coffeemaker was set up on the bar counter, and Ethan stopped to pour coffee into the mugs while Brittany pulled out a chair and sat down.
“Cream and sugar?” he asked.
“Black,” she told him, and he brought the two cups to the table and sat down beside her.
“I’ve left a list of phone numbers you can call for help if anything should go wrong,” he told her. “Mine at the university is at the top, of course, but there’s also Dad’s doctor, the next-door neighbors on either side of us and, as a last resort, my brother and his wife in New Orleans.”
“Thank you, I’m glad to have those,” she said. “I’m also interested in knowing what his limitations are aside from his occasional confusion. Can I take him out for rides or walks, or maybe a shopping trip?”
“Oh, sure, he loves to get out,” Ethan assured her. “That’s one of the biggest problems I’ve had with him lately. When he’s here alone he goes out and then can’t find his way back home.”
A voice from behind Brittany startled them both. It was Nate’s. “Ethan, you got any idea what time it is? Why didn’t you wake me up? You’re gonna be late….”
Brittany turned in her chair to look at him standing there in his rumpled pajamas, hair tousled, and an emerging twenty-four-hour beard.
He saw her at the same time and his eyes opened wide with shock. “Damn,” he bellowed, “why didn’t you tell me we had company?”
Nate crossed his arms over his chest and bent at the waist in an attempt to cover himself.
“She isn’t company, Dad, this is the woman I hired for you—”
“You got me a woman!” he sputtered in disbelieving amazement. “Look, son, I may be gettin’ older but I can still find my own girlfriends.”
Brittany couldn’t help it, she put her head back and laughed gleefully. Not that the fact Nate didn’t remember her was funny, but the looks on both his and Ethan’s faces were hilarious.
“No!” Ethan said, frustration mixed with compassion in his tone. “This is Brittany. She’s going to be your nurse-companion?”
She saw the confusion in Nate’s expression, but it was clear that he wasn’t going to give in to it.
“Well, my memory’s not so good,” he admitted, “but you got to admit my taste is impeccable.” He winked at her and put out his hand. “Welcome, young lady. Please pardon my get-up, but it’s not often I find a beautiful woman at my breakfast table.”
She put her hand in his and chuckled. “That’s hard to believe and, please, call me Brittany.”
He squeezed her hand and released it. “That’s a pretty name. Almost as pretty as the girl who bears it.”
Brittany tampered down the ire she always felt when called a ‘girl.’ After all, this man could be forgiven. He was of another generation when that title was both common and acceptable. “Thank you, Mr. Thorpe, but I’m no longer a ‘girl.’ I’m twenty-one years old. Old enough to drink hard liquor and vote.”
She caught the impish glee in his eyes even before he spoke. “Not at the same time, I hope.”
They both chuckled, and Ethan joined in as he pushed his chair back from the table and stood. “Now that we all have our identities straightened out, I’ve got to leave.”
Brittany stood up, too, and both she and Nate walked to the door with Ethan. When they got there he turned to Brittany. “The list of phone numbers I told you about is in the library on my desk. Don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything.”
“I won’t,” she said as he let himself out.
When he was gone she turned to Nate. “Do you want me to give you your blood test and injection now or would you rather wait until you’ve dressed and shaved?”
He grimaced. “I don’t need you to do that for me. I can do it myself.”
She wasn’t surprised at his resistance. He’d probably be more amenable after she’d been taking care of him for a while.
“Is that the way you prefer to do it?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“All right,” she said agreeably, “but you’ll have to walk me through it the first time so I can make sure you’re doing it right. It’s just a precaution.”
She knew it would be easier to get his cooperation if he thought he was doing her a favor.
“Sure. We keep all the stuff in the first-floor bath.” He turned and they walked together to the large Victorian-style bathroom, complete with a free-standing claw-footed tub and a commode that flushed with a chain.
Nate opened a wooden cabinet and took out the paraphernalia he needed, then stuck the end of his finger and pricked out a little blood with a sterilized needle to test on the glucose monitor. Everything there was okay so he filled the syringe and gave himself the injection in the stomach.
He’d been right. He was very good at this. If only he could remember to do it as often as required.
“Mr. Thorpe, can you—” she started to say, but he cut her off.
“Hold on there, missy, you don’t like to be called a girl, and I’m not all that hot about bein’ called an old man—”
Brittany gasped. “I never—”
“Oh, I know you’re too polite to actually say it,