Single with Children. Arlene James

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СКАЧАТЬ right in hand, and do you know, I think she actually likes children? Why is it, do you suppose, that so many nannies don’t like children? You’d think they’d do something else, wouldn’t you?”

      A very astute observation. Adam smiled. “Enjoy your movie.”

      “Thank you. I will, and, um, Mr. Adam, sir, if I may say so, I think she’s just what those young ones need.”

      Her eyes said something more, but he wasn’t very good at reading unspoken messages, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what she was thinking, anyway. Man, planning war-game strategies and mass mobilizations had been a walk in the park, compared to this life he led now. But maybe it was going to change for the better now, temporarily, anyway. He frowned. Temporary just wasn’t good enough. He couldn’t be hiring a new nanny every two or three months. The children’s lives were continually overset by such changes, and one day—soon, please!—he was going to have a new career to dedicate himself to, not that his search for a compatible business had yielded much so far. He was feeling a new sense of pressure about that, too. His military retirement wouldn’t put children through college or allow the kind of upkeep on a home that winters in Minnesota required, especially as that home grew older. And he couldn’t just sit, day in and day out, perusing the newspaper. He put that aside for good just as Laura returned to the room.

      “It’s ready,” she told him, crossing to the sofa.

      He nodded and got up out of his chair at the very moment Laura sat down. “Aren’t you coming?”

      She sent him a sheepish look. “I wasn’t sure what was…proper in my situation.”

      “Well, it’s proper to eat,” he said blandly.

      She stood, smoothing her hands over her bottom and the backs of her thighs, as if straightening a skirt. “I just wasn’t certain if I ought to be eating at the table with you and the children.”

      In truth, several of the nannies had preferred to take their meals alone. Often, mealtime had been the only time they could get away from the children. He made a sudden decision not to tell Laura that, though. Maybe if they treated her like family she would stay longer. On the other hand, maybe he needed to find out more about her before he pushed her to stay. That, too, could be accomplished at the dinner table. He lifted an arm in invitation. “We’re pretty informal around here. Come on.”

      She nodded and bit at her lower lip, and her head was bowed almost shyly as she stepped up next to him. His arm just seemed to sort of naturally curve around her, of its own volition. He didn’t remove it until they reached the dining room.

      The kids were giggling when they came in—not a good sign. Sure enough, Robbie had reached into a bowl of mashed potatoes with his hand and was squishing the pulp between his fingers. Adam opened his mouth to snap an angry order, but something in Laura’s demeanor gave him second thoughts. He glanced sideways at her. She had drawn herself up tall and folded her long, slender arms. Her face was impassive, not censuring, not smiling, her gaze as steady as time. Robbie slowly pulled his hand back. Laura moved to the chair opposite him, pulled it out and sank down upon it gracefully, her gaze now studiously averted. Adam sensed a method behind her behavior and calmly copied her. Once carefully ensconced in the chair at the head of the table, he looked around, mentally noted the uncomfortable expression on Robbie’s face as he eyed his potato-encrusted hand and smiled at Laura.

      “Would you serve the children, please?”

      She sent him a look of approval, nodded and reached for the bowl of potatoes. “Wendy, would you care for potatoes?”

      “Yes, please,” Wendy replied in a small voice, and Laura duly dispensed them.

      “Ryan?”

      Ryan crossed his eyes and waggled his tongue. “Yes, pwease!”

      Laura smiled ever so slightly at his antics and spooned creamy potatoes onto his plate. She then turned to Robbie.

      “Robbie, would you care for potatoes?”

      Robbie nodded and bowed his head, frowning. Adam hid a grin, knowing that his scapegrace son was wondering how such a brilliant prank had turned into a embarrassment. Laura doled out the serving and set down the bowl. Utter silence followed, and then Adam heard the sound of sniffles. He looked at Robbie, whose head was practically in his plate now, then at Laura. Her expression of compassion for Robbie put a sudden lump in his throat. He had to look away.

      “Adam,” Laura said quietly, “would you clean Robbie’s hand for him so he can eat?”

      Brilliant. She was brilliant. Adam slipped out of his chair and knelt at Robbie’s side, using his napkin to clean Robbie’s little fist. “You know, Rob,” he said gently, “there are reasons for rules. Dining wouldn’t be a very pleasant exercise if everyone helped themselves with their hands, would it?”

      Robbie shook his head. Adam followed instinct and patted the boy’s shoulder before moving back to his chair. Laura beamed as she reached for the dish of baked pork chops.

      “Robbie, would you care for a pork chop, dear?”

      Robbie wiped his nose on his wrist and nodded. Tacitly agreeing to overlook that little faux pas, Laura shared a tiny smile with Adam as she forked a chop onto Robbie’s plate.

      Before long, the table was alive with the muted sounds of a pleasant family dinner, the most pleasant in memory, in fact. The giggles that erupted on occasion were not of the mischievous sort, but rather a happy sound. Adam marveled. It was only with effort that he remembered he had reason to question Laura, and only with effort that he found the means to do it.

      “So tell me, Laura,” he began with costly aloofness, “what were you studying?”

      “Studying?” she echoed blankly, and Adam thought, A-ha. His thoughts must have shown in his face, for she blanched, then recovered swiftly. “Oh, you mean what was I studying in college.”

      “Yes. In college.”

      She smiled grimly, concentrating her attention on what remained of her food. “Early childhood development.”

      “Ah.” Perfect answer, but he’d already determined that she was brilliant.

      “Although,” she went on hesitantly, “I hadn’t declared a major yet.”

      “Um. When do you expect to return to school?”

      She shrugged uncomfortably.

      “In the fall?”

      “Maybe,” she said. “Then again, I might want to start with summer school, sort of ease back into it, you know.”

      Summer. He worked his frown into a smile. “Where were you thinking of going?”

      She gulped. “I—I haven’t decided yet.”

      He made an understanding sound, utterly convinced that she was lying to him. “Well, no rush,” he said.

      She smiled. “Right. No rush.”

      He steeled himself for the killing thrust. “Where did you go before?” She yanked her gaze up to meet his, and in the instant before she covered it, he saw what she hadn’t wanted him to СКАЧАТЬ