“And ‘wuh’ instead of ‘luh’?” Joshua asked.
“Exactly. Those are lisps. They’re called ‘developmental delays’. And she had a few of them. My job was to get together with her mother and teach her some things she could do to help the girl’s speech and balance,” I said.
“What did you do?” Joshua asked.
“I spent an entire weekend in their hut,” I said. “I showed the mother some strengthening exercises she could do with her daughter and taught the mother tongue exercises she could use to show her daughter how to form correct sounds.”
“They lived in a hut? Like with mud?” Nathaniel asked.
“Oh yes. All of them do,” I said.
“Did she walk?” Clara asked.
“She did when I left. We were playing soccer, just like Nathaniel did tonight, before I left. She was running around with strong legs and kicking balls farther than any boy in her area could,” I said with a smile.
“She was lucky to have you,” Joshua said.
I drew in a deep breath as I hugged their necks. They reminded me so much of the kids I had taken care of back in Africa. I tucked Nathaniel in before Carter took Joshua and Clara, and I went downstairs to throw some laundry into the washer.
Along with Nathaniel’s jersey.
That thing stunk.
“Sounds like you really enjoyed your time in Africa,” Carter said.
I nodded as I poured some detergent in and started the washer.
“I did,” I said.
“Do you miss it?” he asked.
“More than I care to admit to, despite some things that happened.”
“What things?” he asked.
I turned my body to face him as I leaned against the wall.
“Why didn’t you let me tell the Lancasters I was the children’s nanny?” I asked.
“Didn’t seem important,” Carter said.
“But you kept interrupting me,” I said.
“To try and keep the conversation moving. People like the Lancasters will stand around and talk for hours if you let them. The kids would’ve been snoring in the sand if I didn’t move things along.”
“So you didn’t like them?” I asked.
“Oh, I thought they were wonderful people. But we needed to get the kids back.”
I nodded my head, but I knew he wasn’t telling me the truth. I knew there was something still brewing between us.
I could see it in his eyes.
“Do you want a glass of wine before you go? Or do you need to get home?” Carter asked.
“I could stay for one,” I said.
I walked over to the couch as Carter opened up a bottle. I was hoping he would stay away from the topic of Africa. I didn’t want to think about it. Not about the parts he would poke at, anyway. He sat beside me, his body a little too close for ‘platonic’ as he handed me a glass of wine.