Regina looks suitably impressed.
“And she really owned a vineyard?”
I chuckle.
“Do I need to swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?”
“So help you Nonna,” she adds, smirking.
I hear her laughter mingling with mine and revel in the pleasure. It’s nice here, being with her. It’s easy, and I appreciate her humor and her spirit. I want nothing more than to stay here, no worry, no stress, no fire, just me and Regina enjoying breakfast before our kids wake up.
Our kids. I realize suddenly that I think of them as ours and Regina not as a nanny, but as a mother. My children’s’ mother, specifically. How did that happen? Is it the emergency that did it? The fire?
But then, my thoughts turn to Sandy, my ex. My happiness evaporates suddenly, and I feel another wave of resentment toward my ex for abandoning her kids and leaving them to wonder if she ever really loved them. I know it’s stupid. I can’t help myself.
Why couldn’t she be like Regina?
Again, the thought comes unbidden and it shocks me at least a little bit. No. It shocks me a great deal. I don’t know this girl, and yet she makes me think of the way things should be, instead of the way things are with my children’s mother.
Regina notices the change in my attitude and her smile fades a bit.
“Is everything ok?” she asks tentatively.
I turn to look at her and very nearly tell her what’s on my mind before my better judgment asserts itself.
“Just thinking about the fire,” I lie. “It’s sobering stuff.”
She’s quiet for a moment, and then puts her hand over mine and says, “All of the children are fine, Ryan. They’re safe. You’re a wonderful father, looking out for them like that.”
My heart expands with her words.
“The fire is out, but the damage was extensive,” I say. “The good news is that our neighbors Doug, Tami and their kids are vacationing in Europe, so no one was home when the fire started.”
Regina nods slowly.
“But what caused the fire if nobody was home?”
“The fire inspector won’t say it officially yet, but he told me they didn’t secure their back gate and a deer or one of the wild sheep got in and chewed up the sprinkler system. When the sprinklers were supposed to come on, they sparked instead and it smoldered all day on one side of the house. When it caught, it caught hard and that was that.”
“There are deer and wild sheep in the area?” Regina’s eyes light up and I expect her to giggle with excitement like a little girl.
I smirk a bit.
“Really sweetheart? After this scary fire, that’s your takeaway?”
She grins sheepishly and says, “Sorry.” But she’s definitely not sorry.
I sigh in an over-exaggerated show of great patience.
“They’re really feral sheep and Animal Control does come out once in a while to catch them, if you’re curious. It makes for a funny sight, with all the sheep bleating and running this way and that.”
She giggles.
“They don’t have sheepherding dogs?”
I shake my head.
“Nope. This is Illinois sweetheart, not the Australian Outback. Although, come to think of it, maybe they should get sheepherding dogs. Anyways, the Douglas estate is completely gone now. The houses, the grounds, the landscaping, everything. It’s all gone.”
“Oh my god!” she whispers, her eyes wide.
I nod.
“Thankfully, the firefighters were able to contain the blaze, and we’ve been left relatively untouched. But the air is still filled with soot and ash and will be for some time. They told us to stay indoors until the air clears.”
She sighs.
“But for how long?” she asks, bringing another bite of the omelet to her mouth. “You know how important it is for kids to play outside. They need fresh air and sunshine.”
I nod.
“They’re not sure,” I say. “Probably several weeks.”
Regina’s eyes widen at the news but after a brief pause, she smiles and says, “Is Ursula coming back?”
I shake my head.
“No, my housekeeper has asthma. I told her to stay home with full pay in the meantime.”
Regina smiles.
“Then I guess you’re lucky I’m here, right? It’s just you, me, and the five kids,” she teases.
I look at her, happy that it feels like a family.
“That’s right, sweetheart. It’s just the seven of us.”
She throws me another glowing smile, and my heart flips over. Why does it feel so easy to be with her? It’s stunning to think that we only met a few days ago.
“Can you make anything other than omelets?” she asks.
I grin.
“In fact, I can. I can cook the entire Mama Pasta recipe. I developed a lot of those recipes,” I smirk.
She looks duly impressed, and then her smile becomes easy again.
“Then I look forward to eating your cooking,” she says lightly. “I’m sure it’ll be delicious. Imagine if this becomes long term: you, me, and the kids, and you cooking for us every night.”