“I beg your pardon?”
“I’m trying to figure it out, you know, and I think I’ve realized something.”
The anger has slipped out of her voice when she asks, “What’s that?”
“I’ll have to win her back and I’ll have to do it properly but there’s something I’ve got to do first.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
But, I’m sure. We met as strangers at a bar. We had a one-night stand using false names. She slipped away.
She came to work for me and things nearly fell apart that first night when I confronted her here. But she stayed and she’s done everything she was paid to do and so much more.
She’s been a surrogate mother to them and made their lives better. She’s brightened my home, my heart and my life. Sure, she’s also warmed my bed – okay, I mostly warmed hers – but she’s done every bit of it while still carrying the title of the nanny.
I swallow the last of my drink and set my glass down. I pick up Kathy’s picture off my desk here and slide it into the bottom drawer.In my heart, yes. But no longer in my life. Quinn and the kids are my life. And, Quinn needs to know she’ll never, ever have to compete with a ghost.
“Theo? Are you still there.”
Shit, I’d forgotten I was still on the phone. “Yeah, Mom. I’m here.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to fire the nanny.”
39- Quinn
Another restless night and the nausea is bad this morning but I arrive at the Wolfe residence at 6:45 sharp to make sure the children are up and getting ready for their day. I’m not in my standard jeans and tee either. I’ve dressed with care. I have a job interview of sorts today.
Maria and Julieta had given me worried looks when I’d told them I’d be moving out. But when I go to the kitchen to see about the children’s breakfast, Maria greets me like always and offers coffee. I tell her I don’t want it. Idowant coffee but I’m supposed to cut back on caffeine, right?
“Maria, would you make Ms. Quinn some of that ginger tea in the pantry?” a deep voice says behind me.Theo.
I turn to find him dressed for work, handsome in black today. His eyes are red, expression tired. Did he have a sleepless night, too? I’m still hurt by how he acted Monday but it’s lessening and it’s impossible for me not to care about him.
“I didn’t buy any ginger tea, Mr. Theo,” Maria says.
“I know. I asked Dan to pick some up yesterday. It’s in the pantry.” The astonished cook goes to fetch it but I only have eyes for him. “I’ve been told it helps with nausea and it’s perfectly safe during the first trimester in moderation,” he murmurs so only I can hear.
His eyes travel down my body, taking in my teacher’s dress, flats and jacket. Just his eyes on me feels like a caress. “You look lovely but how are you feeling, Quinn?”
I stare back at him, not sure what to say. His concern isn’t surprising because Theo has often shown me that but he’s recommending morning sickness aids? I suppose he would have some experience with it even if it is second-hand.
The children bustle in before I can tell him anything, dressed in their school uniforms and eager for my attention. I give it to them but not before I catch Theo giving me a pained smile. He slips out of the room with his phone in hand and I want to call him back to the table to join us. He should eat with his children. He loves this time of day with them.
But I’d asked for some space and he’s giving me that. It hurts honestly even if I need it. Or I thought I did. What am I doing? I pushed him away when I think he was on the brink of telling me he loved me. Have I pushed him back towards Kathy’s ghost and ruined both our chances for happiness? I just know I can’t keep being his live-in nanny and his lover even if I can’t leave the children.
While I’m sipping my tea and trying not to look at the waffles the kids are eagerly scarfing down, Julieta arrives in the kitchen. She gives me a warm greeting and takes note of my tea. Her and Maria proceed to exchange a meaningful look. I catch snippets of their whispered Spanish.
“She wouldn’t take coffee. Mr. Theo had Dan get the tea.” “Mrs. Wolfe drank it when she was expecting.” “She’s dressed up.” “I’m not sure he slept at all.” “They both look like hell.”
I shoot a glare at them and get exasperated sighs in reply. And a plate of dry toast with applesauce is set in front of me. “It goes well with that tea, I’ve heard,” Maria says, knowingly.
I eat what I can because my body needs the nutrients but I’m feeling mulish and dissatisfied. Lack of sleep is doing a number on me. So is nausea. So is missing my lover.
I’m halfway done with eating when something occurs to Jill which, naturally, must be asked at once. “Julieta, why do you keep moving my mommy’s pictures?”
My stomach roils threateningly. Kathy’s pictures. Why is Jill asking Julieta about them?