A Celebration Christmas. Nancy Thompson Robards
cared about the well-being of his charges, but she couldn’t help wondering what the kids must be going through. To be so young and dependent.
Or maybe the innocence of youth protected them? She hoped so.
Lily settled herself on the edge of the sofa. Dr. Dunlevy sat across from her on the closest chair. With his elbows on the armrests, he steepled his fingers and gazed at her for a moment, as if he were collecting his thoughts.
Finally he said, “Lily Palmer, I’m glad you don’t scare easily. Please tell me you know how to make order out of chaos.”
She sat up straighter, unsure how to answer that question.
He laughed. “Even if you don’t, you come highly recommended.”
“That’s very nice to know.”
She held up a finger. “I have a résumé for you.” She slid a folio out of her shoulder bag and retrieved a résumé and list of references. He gave it a once-over.
“Have you had any experience as a nanny in the past?”
“Actually I haven’t. No nanny experience per se, but as I said, I’m a second-grade schoolteacher.”
“I suppose that’s like being a full-time nanny to a bunch of kids,” he said.
She nodded. “Pretty much.”
“Let’s see,” he said as he continued to read the rundown of her career history. Suddenly, he put down the paper. “What would you do with four spirited kids? How would you care for them?”
“I would keep them busy, of course. But first you and I would need to discuss your expectations for them.”
Cullen nodded and rubbed his temples. “I’m glad you brought that up. I’m not going to lie. They’re a handful. They’re good kids. Their father was my best friend. But since the loss of their parents, they seem to be working through their grief by acting out. They are the reason my housekeeper quit.”
“I’m very sorry for your loss. The loss of your friend, I mean.”
Of course he knew what she meant. He wouldn’t think she was consoling him over the loss of his housekeeper.
Would he?
Ugh. She felt her cheeks heat. Why was she suddenly so nervous?
Her words hung in the air between them for a few awkward beats.
“Thank you. The kids seem to be resilient, but they have been a challenge. I wanted to be up-front with you about it. It’s better that I tell you exactly what to expect than to have you walk out on us like Angie did.”
Lily squinted at him. “What do you mean, Dr. Dunlevy?”
“Please call me Cullen. There’s no need for formalities.”
“Okay. Cullen. Did Angie interact with the children?”
“As little as possible. Her main objective was to come in and do her housework. She was my housekeeper for a number of years. With the kids here, it was difficult.”
“No disrespect to Angie—I’m sure she’s great at what she does,” said Lily. “But in my experience, when a child acts up, it’s usually a sign that he or she is looking for attention. I would imagine that the kids feel displaced and frightened after losing their parents. I would keep them busy doing fun activities. When kids are busy, they don’t have a lot of time to get into trouble. And they tend to sleep better at night because they’re tired.”
“Would you be willing to get out in the yard and run around with them like that?” He hiked a thumb toward the windows.
“Absolutely. Unless it’s too cold or the weather is bad. And then there are lots of things we can do inside, like holiday baking and decorating for Christmas.”
She noticed the lack of decorations in his house. It was only December first, and yes, it was still early for some people to decorate. But it had been a tradition in her family to deck the halls the Saturday after Thanksgiving.
“Would you mind if the kids decorated for the holidays?”
“I can’t remember the last time I even put up a tree,” he said. “I guess the kids will want one since they’ll be with me until the New Year, if that long.”
“Are they going somewhere after that?”
Cullen raked a hand through his hair and looked a little unsettled. “They’re not living with me indefinitely. It just wouldn’t be fair to them. That’s why I only need a nanny for a month. It may not even be that long if the attorney I’m working with is able to find a family willing to take them in. I want to keep them together. After all they’ve been through, it wouldn’t be right to split them up. Of course, if you agree to take the job and the attorney comes through before the end of the month, I’ll pay you through the end of December. That’s only fair.”
Attorney?
“Those poor kids.” The words escaped before Lily could contain them.
Cullen drew in a deep breath and let it out. He seemed to be weighing his words.
Finally he said, “I know it’s not ideal, but I’m not married and sometimes I work eighty hours a week. Kids their age need a family to care for them. As much as I hate the thought of shuffling them around, placing them in a good stable environment with a traditional family will be better for them in the long run. The agency is working hard to keep them together, but we’re racing against a deadline. They have to go back to school after the first of the year. It would be less disruptive for them to start at their new school than to have them start here and transfer somewhere else.”
“They don’t have any family who can take them?”
“If they did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“Those poor kids have dealt with so much loss at such a young age. To be all alone, except for each other...”
The back door banged open and a cacophony of voices and running feet put an abrupt end to Lily and Cullen’s conversation.
Cullen’s gaze locked with Lily’s. He seemed to be asking, Are you on board?
She nodded.
He smiled, then called to the kids, who had blown right past them on their way to the kitchen. “Megan, George, Bridget, please come here. There’s someone I want you to meet.”
The three of them walked back into the room and stood in front of Lily and Cullen. They cast suspicious, sidelong glances at Lily and then back at each other. Looking more subdued than they had when they were out in the yard, they seemed to be communicating in their own silent language.
Cullen introduced the children. “Please say hello to Ms. Palmer. We’ve been talking about the possibility of her being your nanny while I’m at work.”
“I’m almost eleven years old,” said Megan. “I don’t need a nanny. I can babysit George, Bridge and Hannah. Mom used to let me do it all the time.”
“She did not,” cried George. “Don’t be a liar.”
Megan gave her brother the stink-eye. George clamped his mouth shut and stared at his shoes.
“I’m not lying.” Megan sounded a lot older than a typical ten-year-old. Losing both parents made you grow up fast, Lily knew from experience. “I’m just saying, we don’t need a babysitter.”
“Well, I don’t babysit,” said Lily. “So I think we’re okay. We can just hang out.”
“Hang out?” Megan scoffed.
“Yes,” said Lily. “Don’t you like to hang out?”
Before Megan could answer, the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it,”