Mother in Training. Marie Ferrarella

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Mother in Training - Marie Ferrarella


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quick to put him out of his misery. “That’s all right, Jack. I don’t mind being on call twenty-four–seven. That makes me more like part of the family instead of the hired help.”

      Jack wasn’t all that sure he wanted to convey that kind of message to Zooey. Right now, he had all the family he could handle. More, really, he thought, glancing at the deceptively peaceful-looking boy she held in her arms.

      But as Jack opened his mouth to correct the mistaken impression, something cautioned him not to say anything that might put her off. He was, after all, in a rather desperate situation, and he wanted this young woman—the woman his children had taken to like catnip—to accept the job he was offering her. At least temporarily.

      If things wound up not working out, at the very least he was buying himself some time to find another suitable candidate for the job. And if things did work out, well, so much the better. There was little he hated more than having to sit there, interviewing a parade of nannies and trying to ascertain whether or not they were dependable. So far, every one he’d hired had turned out to be all wrong for his children. Neither Emily nor Jackie ever liked who he wound up picking.

      This was the first time they had approved.

      And he had a gut feeling about Zooey. He had no idea why, but he did. She was the right one for the job.

      Emily was becoming impatient, tugging on his hand. He pretended not to notice. His attention was focused on Zooey. “So does that mean you’ll take the job?”

      She wasn’t attempting to play coy, she just wanted him to know the facts. “Seems like neither one of us has much choice in the matter right now, Jack. You’ve got your back against the wall and so do I.”

      She smiled down at Emily. The little girl seemed to be hanging on every word. In a way, Emily reminded Zooey of herself at that age. As the oldest, she’d been privy to her parents’ adult world in a way none of her siblings ever had. There was no doubt in her mind that Emily understood what was going on to a far greater extent than her father thought she did.

      Zooey winked at the little girl before looking up at Jack. “Lucky for both of us I enjoy kids.”

      As a rule, Jack liked having all his i’s dotted and his t’s crossed. She still hadn’t actually given him an answer. “Then you’ll take the job?”

      He was a little anal, she thought. But that was all right. As a father, he was entitled to be, she supposed. “Yes, I’ll take it.” And then she looked at him, a whimsical smile playing on her lips. “By the way, how much does the job pay?”

      She was being cavalier, he thought. Her attitude about money might have been why she’d found herself in financial straits to begin with. He was annoyed with himself for not having told her the amount right up front. He told her now, then added, “According to the last nanny, that’s not nearly enough.”

      Zooey did a quick calculation in her head, coming up with the per hour salary. She had always had a gift for math, which was why her father had been so certain that getting an MBA was what she was meant to do. Zooey liked numbers, but had no desire to do anything with them. The love affair ended right where it began, at the starting gate.

      Jack was going to be paying her more than twice what she’d gotten at her highest-paying job so far. She wondered if that was the going rate, or just a sign of his desperation.

      “That should have been your first clue,” she told him glibly.

      He didn’t quite follow her. “Clue?”

      “That the woman was all wrong for the job.” Still holding the sleeping Jackie, she ran a hand over Emily’s hair. Zooey was rewarded with sheer love shining in the girl’s eyes. “Nobody takes this kind of job to get rich,” she informed him, “even at the rates you’re paying. They do it because they love kids. Or at least, they should.”

      Reaching his car, Jack dug into his pocket for his keys. Once he had unlocked the vehicle, Zooey placed the sleeping boy in his arms.

      This time, Jackie began to wake up, much to his father’s distress. The ride to his Upstate New York home wasn’t long, but a fussing child could make it seem endless.

      “You’re leaving?” Even as he asked her, he was hoping she’d say no.

      But she nodded. When she saw the distress intensify, she told him, “Well, I do have to get my things from my place.”

      But Jack wasn’t willing to give up so easily. “Why don’t you come home with us tonight, and then I’ll help you officially move out on the weekend?”

      Zooey raised her auburn eyebrows and grinned. “What’s the matter, Jack, afraid I won’t come back?”

      “No,” he told her adamantly. And then, remembering her comment about the truth, admitted, “Well, maybe just a little.” Once the words were out, he was surprised by his own admission. “You know, what with time to think and all.”

      “You don’t have anything to worry about,” she assured him. “This is the best offer I’ve had since I left college.”

      He noticed that she’d said “left” rather than “graduated.” He wondered if lack of funds had been responsible for her not getting a degree. If she worked out, he might be tempted to help her complete her education, he decided. That would definitely get her to remain.

      “Give me your home address, Jack. And your home phone number,” Zooey added. “Just in case I get lost.” Her eyelid fluttered in a quick wink. “I’ll be at your house bright and early tomorrow morning, I promise. By the way, when is bright and early for you?”

      “Six-thirty.”

      “Ouch.” At that hour, she’d be more early than bright, she thought. “Okay, six-thirty it is.”

      Setting Jackie in his car seat, Jack wrote out his address and number. Reluctantly. Wondering, as he gave her the piece of paper and a check for the advance she’d asked for earlier, if he was ever going to see her again.

      Chapter Three

      October

      Zooey could still remember, months later and comfortably absorbed into the general routine of the Lever household, the expression of relief on Jack’s handsome face that first morning she’d arrived on his doorstep. She’d had her most important worldly possessions stuffed into the small vehicle, laughingly referred to as a car, that was parked at his curb.

      Funny how a little bit of hair coloring could throw a normally observant man for a loop. When she’d taken the job at the coffee shop, she’d been at the tail end of her experimental stage. Auburn had been the last color in a brigade of shades that had included, at one point, pink, and several others that were more likely to be found in a child’s crayon box than in a fashion magazine.

      Going back to her own natural color had seemed right as she opted to assume the responsibility of caring for a high-powered lawyer’s children.

      It was the last thing she’d done in her tiny apartment before she turned out the lights for the last time.

      It had certainly seemed worth it the next morning as she watched the different expressions take their turn on Jack’s chiseled face.

      Finally, undoubtedly realizing that he’d just been standing there, he had said, “Zooey?” as if he were only seventy-five percent certain that he recognized her.

      She’d drawn out the moment as long as she could, then asked, “Job still available?”

      “Zooey,” he repeated, this time with relief and conviction. A second later, he moved back, opening the door wider.

      She had only to step over the threshold before she heard a chorus of, “Yay! Zooey’s here.” And then both children, Jackie in a sagging diaper and Emily with only one sock and shoe on, an undone ribbon trailing after her like the tail of a kite, came rushing out to greet her.

      Jack


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