Читать книгу A Celebration Christmas - Nancy Thompson Robards - Страница 8
ОглавлениеAn ear-piercing scream eclipsed Max Cabot’s explanation of the documents he was dropping off. This time the scream wasn’t from one of the girls; it was Lily.
Hell. What had the kids done now? Lily was his only option for a nanny. If they drove her away... He didn’t want to put them in day care.
He’d just have to make sure they hadn’t scared her off.
“I have to go, Max. I need to go see what’s going on in there. I’ll look at these and call you later.”
When Cullen walked into the kitchen, Lily was on her knees scrambling to pick up what looked like a spilled box of chocolates, shooing the dog away before he could eat them. It looked as though the dog was ahead in the race. The kids stood and watched with guilty-looking faces.
Where had the chocolates come from?
“Everything all right in here?” he asked.
Lily stood up and smoothed her skirt. “Yes. Fine. Everything is fine. Sorry to interrupt you. I dropped the candy that the kids so generously offered to share with me. I shouldn’t have screamed. I’m embarrassed.”
She screamed over dropping a box of candy?
Cullen squinted at her. He didn’t know her well, but she didn’t seem like the type to overreact. And when he saw the way the kids were standing there with certain looks on their faces and the way Hannah was looking in from the threshold between the living room and the kitchen, he had a feeling he wasn’t hearing the entire story.
“I’m just worried about...the dog,” Lily said. “I’m afraid he will get sick from the chocolate. Wouldn’t want that to happen. Would we, kids?”
As if on cue, the big, mangy mutt jumped up and put its paws on Lily’s stomach and licked her. When Lily stepped back, Cullen saw the dark streak the mutt left on Lily’s white blouse. This stain was even worse than the one that had ruined Angie’s pants.
Great. Now Lily was going to walk out, and Cullen was out of options except for day care.
“Kids—George, Megan—” He drew a deep breath to take the edge off his voice. “Put the dog on a leash. He has to stop jumping on people. He just got chocolate all over Ms. Palmer.”
George took Franklin by the collar and held him while Bridget left the room. Presumably to get the leash.
Lily was brushing at the stain on her blouse.
“I’m sorry about that,” he said. “Send me the bill for the dry cleaning, or if your blouse is ruined, I’ll replace it. Sometimes chocolate is hard to remove.”
Lily waved him off. “All I have to do is pretreat it and throw it in the washer. It’ll be fine. I’m just worried about the dog ingesting all that candy. Isn’t chocolate supposed to be bad for them? Should we take him to the vet?”
Ah, hell. She was right.
He pulled out his smartphone. “I have no idea where the closest vet is—”
“It’s not chocolate,” George murmured as he strained to hold Franklin back. The dog whined in protest. “He doesn’t need to go to the vet.”
“What was in the box?” Cullen asked.
George looked sheepish. “Mud balls that look like chocolate. They won’t make Franklin sick. He eats mud all the time.”
There was a beat of silence, during which Megan and Hannah turned and left the room, murmuring something about helping Bridget find the dog’s leash.
Cullen counted to ten before he spoke. These pranks were just not acceptable. Sure, the kids were bored and hurting over the loss of their mother. But driving away every single potential caregiver had to stop.
Still, Cullen took extra care to check his tone.
“So, buddy, if they’re mud balls, why were you offering them to Ms. Palmer? That’s not cool. They could’ve made her sick.”
There was another beat of silence, during which the boy’s eyes flashed defiantly before they began to fill with tears, belying his stony expression.
“Oh, no,” said Lily. “He wasn’t trying to trick me into eating them. He was just showing me how realistic his candy sculptures were.”
She nodded a little too adamantly.
“Candy sculptures?” Cullen asked.
“Yes,” Lily said. “As you can see, they’re quite true to life.”
“Mmm,” Cullen answered.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spied another of the mud bombs that had rolled under the table. When he bent to retrieve it, he saw a coiled rubber cobra lying about three feet behind it.
Okay. Now he was starting to piece together the chain of events: the boy handed the lady a candy box; the lady opened said candy box, saw the realistic-looking rubber snake inside, screamed and threw the box.
Obviously it had startled her, but now she was covering for the boy.
Hmm...
Cullen walked around the table and picked up the snake by the tail. It uncoiled and bounded as he held it up. It was so realistic looking that it made Cullen want to wince, but he didn’t.
“George, I think this belongs to you,” Cullen said. “Did you scare Ms. Palmer with it?”
“Oh, no, he’s fine,” Lily interjected. “We were just getting to know each other. No harm done. Right, George?”
Seriously?
Cullen looked back and forth between the two of them. Lily was smiling. George looked sullen. Okay. If she wasn’t bothered by it, then he wasn’t going to press the issue.
Not now, anyway.
In fact, it was nice to see that she had the fortitude to deal with the pranksters. Maybe if they didn’t get a reaction out of her they’d stop.
“George, please take the snake and the dog in the other room. I need to talk to Ms. Palmer.”
George kept his head down as he yanked the snake out of Cullen’s hand and herded Franklin out of the room.
Lily stood there in the middle of the kitchen floor smiling, but looking uncertain and...so damn pretty, even in her stained blouse. Her cheeks were flushed pink. Combined with her green eyes, blond, curly hair and full bottom lip, which she was biting, she looked... Well, the old Van Halen song “Hot for Teacher” came to mind. Cullen forced it out of his head as fast as it had arrived. That was so wrong. Worse than George’s pranks and the dog jumping up on her.
He could tell from the short conversation he’d had with her that Lily Palmer was...different from the women who usually floated his boat.
She was different and she was off-limits...at least until her month of caring for the kids was up.
Stop. Stay on task, he reminded himself.
“You didn’t have to defend him,” Cullen said. “His behavior was inappropriate.”
“He’s just a kid,” Lily said.
“Does that mean you still want the job?”
Lily blinked at him as if changing channels from champion of children to nanny candidate. “Well, yes. Of course I do.”
Cullen exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Next, he gathered his own inappropriate thoughts and urges, stuffed them into a mental box labeled Off-limits and pushed them way in the back of his consciousness. If he was going to hold George to a standard of appropriateness, then he had to set the example.
“Can you start now?”
* * *
“Why didn’t you get George in trouble?” Megan asked Lily. “Because you totally could’ve. I’ll bet you could’ve gotten him grounded if you wanted to.”
“Nuh-uh,” said George. “Uncle Cullen can’t ground us. Only Mom and Dad could do that, and they’re dead.”
Lily winced and brother and sister continued to verbally duke it out. As long as they didn’t come to physical blows, she was willing to let them settle it while she regrouped and figured out what they were going to do for the rest of the day.
She hadn’t planned on being hired on the spot, much less starting today. If she’d known there’d been a chance of that, she would’ve planned better. She would’ve brought things for the kids to do. But, she rationalized, being hired on the spot was far better than having to wait or getting passed over for the job.
She’d had a certain level of confidence coming into the interview since her friends Kate Thayer—who was married to Dr. Liam Thayer, who worked with Cullen at the hospital—and Sydney James, who was good friends with Kate, had both recommended her for the position.
But she had to admit her confidence took a tumble when she saw Angie racing to get out of the house.
Lightweight. She chuckled to herself and then reined it back in. Not everyone was cut out to care for children. Those who weren’t had no business trying. There was a fine line between keeping a child in line and breaking his or her spirit.
The Thomas kids needed special care after all they’d been through. Maybe even a bit more slack than she would usually allow the typical kid in her class. To a point.
Through the years, she’d learned that caring for children was not a one-size-fits-all endeavor. It was an ongoing choose-your-battles work in progress.
“How about if we play a game of Monopoly?” Lily suggested with all the enthusiasm she could muster. “Your uncle Cullen said he just got it for you.”
Playing a board game, especially one like Monopoly that had the potential to last hours, would not only be a good way to keep them occupied, but might be a good way to get to know them better.
“You know he’s not our real uncle,” said Megan. “We just call him that. He was my dad’s best friend.”
“He’s a good guy,” Lily said. He must’ve been. It was a commitment to take in four kids. Even if it was just temporary.
“I’m hungry,” said Bridget. “Can we have something to eat first?”
Lily glanced at her watch. It was later than she’d realized, well past lunchtime. Cullen had left some money and the number of the local pizza place that delivered. It had been so chaotic she hadn’t even thought about whether or not they’d eaten. “You know what? That’s a good idea. What kind of pizza should we order?”
The girls wanted cheese. George wanted the works. After she placed the order, she instructed the kids to set up the game and count out the money.
While they were busy, she searched the pantry, which housed a full wine refrigerator and not much else. Then she started opening and shutting cabinets in search of a light snack to tide them over. Other than cereal, which they told her they’d had for breakfast, she found a jar of peanut butter in the cupboards and some fruit, baby carrots, a gallon of milk and juice in the refrigerator. That was it for the healthy snacks. Of course, she also found some fancy crackers that were past their expiration date, a jar of olives and a rather smelly, green-looking wedge of blue cheese in the refrigerator.
Typical fare for a bachelor who never ate at home. Then again, he did say he usually ate most of his meals at the hospital.
That was a dismal thought. Unless he had good company.
It was none of her business, but that didn’t stop her curiosity. A good-looking guy like that, there was probably a line of eligible women interested in keeping him company as he ate his late-night hospital-cafeteria food. Maybe he even had a girlfriend—though she certainly wouldn’t be a very good girlfriend if she wasn’t willing to help him out with the kids.
If there was someone, maybe she worked. What else would she do with her time? Maybe she would help him care for the kids in the evening. Because he hadn’t said anything about her being a live-in nanny for the month.
Probably because of the girlfriend. What were the chances of a guy like Cullen Dunlevy being unattached? He probably had someone he could count on in the evening.
Beyond the fireworks and breathless delight of a relationship, wasn’t one of the best things about being involved knowing you had someone you could depend on? Not in the boring sense of the word, but someone solid. Someone you could count on.
That did sound boring.
Maybe that was her problem. Maybe dependability was just a nice way of saying boring. Maybe that was why Josh had broken their engagement.
No, he’d told her she was too fat, that he didn’t want to settle for someone who didn’t care enough to keep in shape. She was an ample size ten, sometimes spilling over into a twelve. She was curvy and she loved to cook.
To her, food was love. And while she was miles from being thin, she’d never felt fat. She was healthy.
Until the day he’d voiced his repugnance and walked out on her, she’d thought those were the qualities he’d loved about her.
Not so.
Her heart ached at the memory as she grabbed the bag of grapes and carrots and shut the refrigerator door. The kids could snack on them while waiting for the pizza to be delivered.
She’d stop by the store tonight after she got off work and pick up some healthy, kid-friendly food so they wouldn’t have to keep ordering in.
They all sat down at the table to start playing the game as they waited for the pizza. Lily asked, “What do you all like to eat?”
“Cookies!” shouted Megan.
“Chicken nuggets,” said Bridget.
Hannah tugged on Lily’s sleeve and motioned for her to lean closer. Lily did.
“I like mac and cheese,” the little girl said.
“Do you?” Lily asked.
Hannah nodded enthusiastically.
“I happen to make the best mac and cheese in the world.”
The little girl’s eyes grew large. “You do?”
Lily nodded and noticed that the other kids were quietly watching her, except for George. He was fiddling with the game piece shaped like a race car, spinning it on the board, seemingly unaware of the food talk happening at the table.
“I don’t suppose anyone would like me to make mac and cheese tomorrow, would they?”
The girls hooted their appreciation. Hannah climbed into Lily’s lap and leaned forward to position her game piece, the dog, at the starting square. But George still sat stoically, making the race car spin the way someone might set jacks atwirl.
“What do you like to eat, George?” Lily asked.
The boy didn’t answer. Megan nudged him.
“Ms. Palmer wants to know what you like to eat,” she said.
The boy shrugged, indicating he wasn’t the least bit interested in their conversation.
Lily decided not to push him. “You don’t have to call me Ms. Palmer. Why don’t you call me Lily?”
Hannah leaned back and looked up at her. “Hi, Lily.” She giggled.
“Hi, sweet Hannah,” Lily answered.
Hannah giggled again and twirled one of Lily’s curls around her finger.
George spun the car so hard that it sailed off the board and skidded across the floor. It disappeared in the space between the wall and the refrigerator.
“Crap!” George growled.
Hannah and Bridget both clasped their hands over their mouths.
“George!” cried Megan. “You’re not supposed to say words like that. If Mom were here, you’d be in so much trouble.”
“Yeah, well, she’s not here anymore.” He turned his angry gaze on Lily. “What are you going to do about it, Lily?”
* * *
It was nearly ten-thirty when Cullen got home that night. After being called away from the office midday, he’d had a lot to catch up on when he got back. Plus, there had been an emergency he’d had to handle. It had taken him that long to get everything in order.
He put his key in the lock, but before he could open the door, someone opened it for him from the inside. Lily was standing there. Cullen’s first thought was What did they do? Please don’t tell me you’re leaving.
But Lily simply pressed her finger to her lips in the international sign for quiet. She motioned him inside. The door clicked behind him, and for one glorious moment, Cullen stood in the deafening silence. The kids were quiet. The dog wasn’t even barking. It was a calm he hadn’t heard in days.
Lily walked toward the kitchen and he followed her.
“How in the world did you manage this?” he asked. “Did you slip a tranquilizer into their dinner?”
“No, of course not,” she said. “I told you I would tire them out by keeping them busy.”
He glanced around at the clean kitchen and the tidy family room, surprised not to see a mess.
“They’re angels when they sleep, aren’t they?” he said. “This place looks great. Did they help you?”
“A little bit,” she said. “We had a good bit of fun, too. In fact, we made Christmas decorations out of some glitter and construction paper I had in my trunk.” She gestured toward the table, where he could see several flat and shiny objects neatly laid out.
“But they cleaned up after themselves,” she said. “We even tackled that blue mess in the upstairs bathroom.”
“The blue potion?” He had forgotten all about it in his rush to get back to work. “You cleaned it up?”
“Potion? Is that what that was?”
She must’ve had a speck of glitter on her cheek, because something glinted in the kitchen light. Maybe it was pixie dust. Maybe that was her secret. She certainly was as cute as a pixie with her blond hair, laughing green eyes and smooth ivory skin.
“Apparently so,” he said. “You didn’t have to clean it up.”
She chuckled and Cullen had to ball his hands into fists to keep from leaning in and brushing the glitter off her cheek.
“If it sat there any longer,” she said, “it was going to either start expanding out into the hall and take over the entire house or dry out on the toilet and tile and stain everything blue. We actually made a game out of it. The kids were great once they got used to the idea that they had to clean up their messes. Are you hungry? Because I’m happy to reheat some pizza for you.”
The non sequitur threw him, but as he made the jump from the blue potion to her offer of food, a feeling of gratitude washed over him.
“No, thanks,” he said. “I’m sure you’re exhausted. You need to get home so you can get some rest for tomorrow.”
He wasn’t sure that the feeling inside him might not actually be relief. Not only did Lily have the situation firmly under control, but for the first time since the kids had arrived, he was able to take a deep breath and let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, everything was going to work out. And to think there had been a few shaky days there when he’d convinced himself that he’d gotten in way over his head by taking in the kids, even for a little while.
She walked over to the table and picked up her purse. She shrugged into her coat and fished her keys out of her bag before pulling on a pair of red leather gloves. “Actually before I go, I wanted to ask you if you had a schedule you wanted the kids to follow. We didn’t really get a chance to talk about specifics before you left to go back to the hospital earlier today.”
Schedule? “No. You just keep doing what you’re doing. I’ll be working late most nights. I won’t be around much.”
Maybe it was his imagination, but the sparkle in her eyes seemed to dim a few watts.
“There’s a park not too far from here. It’s just a short drive. You all could go there. I know it’s cold outside, but if you bundle them up they’d be fine. Is your car big enough to transport five?”
Lily frowned. “No. I have a sedan. It seats four. I guess that’s a problem. Maybe we could walk to the park.”
Not unless she was an expert at herding cats.
“I’ll call around and see about renting an SUV or a minivan for you to use. It’s too cold outside to walk anywhere, but I know that you can’t stay cooped up inside. Let me see what I can come up with.”
“That would be great,” Lily said. “Hannah was showing me her booster seat today. She’s quite proud of it.”
Cullen could imagine the girl doing that. For a surreal nanosecond, he saw a flash of what it might be like to keep the kids permanently, with someone like Lily at his side helping him raise them. The thought was simultaneously inviting and terrifying. He blinked it away.
“You’ll need a front-door key,” he said. “Let me get it for you.”
Lily followed him over to a brass key holder that was hanging on the foyer wall just outside the kitchen. He plucked a silver key on a leather key valet.
As he handed it to her, his fingers grazed her soft palm. A tingle of awareness zinged through him and she pulled her hand away a little too fast.
“Feel free to let yourself in,” he said. “No need to knock.”
She nodded.
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said and turned toward the door. He followed her to lock up after he let her out, feeling a bit like a stray dog trailing along behind a beautiful stranger. She was a good soul who also happened to be a striking woman. A different brand of beautiful that wasn’t his usual type. But even if she was, he didn’t need to complicate matters by crossing lines that should be clearly drawn.
“Good night,” she said.
“Lily?”
She stopped and turned back to face him. The glitter winked at him. Before he knew what he was doing, he reached out and brushed it away. Her cheek was just as soft and smooth as it looked. It took everything he had not to trace his finger along the edge of her jawline and over that full bottom lip—
But then her fingers flew to her cheek.
“It was a speck of glitter,” he said. “On your cheek. For a moment, I thought it might be some of that pixie dust you used to work your magic on the kids. But I guess it’s just your sparkling personality shining through.”
Oh, hell. That was corny.
But she smiled. And blushed. He could even see it in the golden glow of the porch light.
“Thank you,” she said. “But I probably have enough loose glitter in my car to decorate the entire neighborhood.”
Her keys jingled against the metal of the ring as she gave a little wave of her hand. “See you tomorrow.”
He watched her walk away toward her sensible navy blue, four-door sedan and the electricity that had been hanging in the air between them seemed to fade, replaced by the realization that she would be around only until the end of the month.
He felt a little foolish remembering his earlier vision of keeping the kids. She was the one who had set order to the chaos. But she had a job, probably with good benefits, that she would return to after the first of the year. Surely she wasn’t interested in being a full-time nanny.
He could ask, but it wasn’t likely.
Still, his heart felt heavy when he thought of the huge task of trying to place all four kids in the same family. The attorney, Cameron Brady, had said he would try, but it was a long shot.
What was he going to do if the perfect family didn’t materialize?
It would be impossible to try to care for them on his own; that was just a ridiculous thought that had momentarily run away with his senses. It had been a preposterous lapse of reason. He, of all people, knew that kids need two parents. A mother and a father. Not an absentee pseudo-uncle/father who would spend more time at work than at home. But the fantasy had been fun for the fleeting moment it had lasted.
