The Nanny's Double Trouble. Christine Rimmer
let out a groan, but at least she followed him back into the house. “What? Can you please make it quick?”
“Let’s talk in my study.” She trudged along behind him to his home office off the foyer. Once they were both inside, he shut the door. “The kids and Keely?”
There was an eye roll. “Jake and Frannie are already in bed. Keely’s upstairs, putting her stuff away, fixing up her room and her workroom. She said it was fine for me to go.”
A hot spark of anger ignited in his gut. But when he got mad, Grace just got madder. He reminded himself to keep his cool. “The agreement was that you would give Keely a hand tonight, help her get comfortable, pitch in with the kids.” He kept his voice level. Reasonable.
Still, Grace’s eyes flashed blue fire. “The kids are in bed. Got it? And what agreement? You told me what to do as you were going out the door.”
“Grace, I—”
“No. Uh-uh. I talked to Keely. I asked her if she needed me. She said go, have fun.”
“Of course she would say that.”
Grace looked up at the ceiling and blew out a furious breath. “You know, some people go to Cancún for their spring break. Me, though? I come home and help your mother-in-law look after your kids. And then when she trips over Jake, it’s just me. Until Keely stepped up—which I totally appreciate. Keely’s about the best there is. But me, I’ve got one night. One night of my spring break to myself. A few hours with my friends, and then I’m on my way back to school.”
When she said it like that, he felt like an ogre. A litany of swear words scrolled through his brain. Playing stand-in dad to his own sisters and brothers should be more rewarding, shouldn’t it? How come so much of the job just plain sucked?
She’s the last one at home, he reminded himself. He was pretty much done with raising his siblings.
Too bad he still had a couple of decades ahead with his own kids.
“Come on, Grace. Don’t exaggerate. You’ve spent time with your friends this week.”
“Not much, I haven’t.”
“You went out last night, remember?”
Another giant sigh. More ceiling staring. “For like two hours.”
“I want you to stick around tonight in case she needs you.”
“But I promised Erin—”
He put up a hand. “You’re needed here. And that’s all I have to say about it.”
If looks could kill, he’d be seared to a cinder. He waited for the yelling to start, dreaded the angry words about to erupt from her mouth—I hate you, Daniel and Who died and made you king? and the worst one of all, You are not my father.
As if he didn’t know that. As if he’d asked for the thankless job of seeing that his brothers and sisters made it all the way to fully functioning adulthood without somehow crashing and burning in the process.
But this time, Grace surprised him. “Fine,” she said way too quietly. And then, shoulders back and head high, she marched to the door, yanked it wide and went out.
He winced as she slammed it behind her. And then, even with the door shut, he could hear her boots pound the floor with each step as she tramped through the downstairs to her room off the kitchen—and slammed that door, too.
Daniel scrubbed both hands down his face. And then he stood stock-still, listening for cries from upstairs—Jake or Frannie, startled awake by Grace’s slamming and stomping. He didn’t breathe again for several seconds.
Finally, when he heard nothing but sweet silence, he stuck his head out the door and listened some more.
Still nothing.
By some minor miracle, Grace had failed to wake up the kids.
Daniel retreated into the study and quietly shut the door. He really ought to go straight upstairs to see how Keely was managing.
But Grace might still have angry words to hurl at him. He would check his email now, hide out for a few minutes. If Grace came flying back out of her room again loaded for bear, he didn’t want to be anywhere in her path.
* * *
Keely was in her bedroom, putting her clothes in the dresser when she heard a door slam downstairs, followed by the loud tapping of boots across hardwood floors.
Grace. Had to be. Keely tucked a stack of bras into the top drawer, quietly slid it shut—and winced as another downstairs door slammed.
Apparently Daniel had come in before Grace could escape.
Keely felt a stab of guilt. Daniel had made it abundantly clear he intended for his sister to stay home tonight. If Keely had only asked Grace to stick around, the confrontation that had so obviously just occurred downstairs could have been avoided.
But come on. Grace had a right to a little fun with her friends now and then. And Keely really didn’t need her tonight.
The question now: Should she leave bad enough alone and stay out of it?
Yeah, probably.
But what had just happened was partly her fault. At the very least, she could offer Grace a shoulder to cry on.
Still not sure she ought to be sticking her nose in, she tiptoed out into the hall, down the stairs, past the shut door to Daniel’s study and onward to the back of the house, into the hall off the kitchen. She tapped on Grace’s door.
After a minute, a teary voice called, “Go away, Daniel!”
Keely tapped again. “Grace, it’s me.”
Silence. Keely steeled herself to be told to get lost.
But then she heard footsteps in there. Grace opened the door with red-rimmed eyes and a nose to match.
Keely held out a tissue. “I come in peace.”
Grace took the tissue and wiped her nose. “Where is he?”
“Still in his study, I think.”
“Jake and Frannie?”
“Not a peep.”
Grace sniffed again. “Come in.” She stepped back. Keely entered and followed her to the bed where they sat down side by side.
Keely made her apology. “He told me this morning that he expected you to stay in. I should have warned you that he seemed kind of dug in about it.”
“He’s kind of dug in about everything.” Grace stuck out her chin. “You know it’s true.” Keely didn’t argue. Why should she? She agreed with Grace on that. “He treats me like I’m a borderline delinquent. I’m twenty-one years old, getting decent grades in school, doing a perfectly fine job of adulting, thank you so very much. I could just get up, get in my car and go.”
“But you won’t. Because you are sweet and helpful. You love your brother, and you want to get along with him. You know he’s got way too much on his plate, and so you try your best to be patient with him.”
Grace let out a reluctant snort of laughter. “Yeah, right.”
“I want to make a little speech now. It will probably annoy you, but I hope you’ll listen anyway.”
“Go for it.”
“When he was your age, he was married, working, fitting in college classes as best he could and raising you and your brothers and sisters—and probably getting zero nights out with his friends.”
Into the silence that