Balancing Act, page 25
Willow stiffened. “She does have my nose.”
“Hmm.”
Helen stepped forward and said, “Why don’t we sit on the back verandah at the lakeside corner? We’ll be able to keep an eye on Drew and Emma from there. I’ll order drinks and snacks for us. Milk and cookies for the child?”
Monica Brandt said, “I’m sure he’d love that. First, though, where might I find a restroom? I’m about to burst. And AJ could use a diaper change.”
Yes, the fumes wafting from Andy’s son were unmistakable. Genevieve and Helen looked at Willow, who sighed. “I’ll show you.”
Could there be a more appropriate beginning?
In the ladies’ room, while the nanny disappeared into a stall, Willow lowered the fold-away changing platform from the wall, then squatted down in front of AJ. “My name is Willow. I need to change your diaper.”
“I poop.”
“Yes, I can tell.”
The diaper bag was well organized, and Willow efficiently managed the smelly job. However, she couldn’t help but compare her diaper-change wiggle worms to this little guy, who lay mostly still and quiet while Willow worked.
The commode flushed, and the nanny emerged from the stall and walked to one of the sinks. Her gaze met Willow’s in the mirror. “Thank you.”
“No problem. Happy to help.” With this, anyway. With the diaper change completed, Willow set the boy on his feet, disposed of the diaper, and washed up.
“Miss Mon, want wub,” AJ said, tugging on the nanny’s shirt.
Monica gestured to the bag on the counter beside Willow. “He wants his pacifier. It’s in the diaper bag.”
Willow remembered seeing it. She unzipped the bag and withdrew a pacifier with a stuffed animal attached—a giraffe. “Emma had one of these,” she observed as she handed it to the child.
“They’re magic,” Monica said as AJ popped the pacifier into his mouth. She took hold of the toddler’s suitcase, leaving Willow to take the child’s hand. Outside the restroom, Willow turned toward the hallway leading to where they’d meet her mother and aunt.
To her surprise, the nanny didn’t follow. Instead, she planted her feet and began speaking in a rush. “AJ is an easygoing kid for the most part, but he’s accustomed to a schedule. This last week has been rough on him, with everything that’s gone on. I wrote everything down in a journal—his likes and dislikes. I wanted to make this as easy for you as possible.”
Warily, Willow said, “Fabulous. Thank you so much.”
“I’m leaving now.”
Alarm wafted through Willow. “I thought you planned to stay overnight.”
“It’s been a long trip. Frankly, I’ve gone above and beyond. He’s a sweet boy, but… I didn’t sign up for this. He’s not my kid. There’s an empty seat on the evening flight if I can get back in time. I won’t say g-o, because sometimes that makes him cry. Better I just slip away. Good luck.”
Before Willow quite knew what had happened, Monica Brandt had disappeared out the front door of Raindrop Lodge.
“Not your kid?” Willow muttered. “You didn’t sign up for it?” She glanced away from the doorway to the toddler, who looked so much like her daughter that it left her dazed and confused.
“You’re Willow,” Andrew John Randall declared.
“Yes, I’m Willow. And you are AJ. C’mon, AJ. Let’s go find…” Okay, maybe just this once because of the nose crack. “Nana.”
Rather than drag the child’s things all around the lodge, she left them at the registration desk. Then, with practiced ease, she lifted AJ, propped him on her hip, and went in search of her mother and aunt.
Chapter Fourteen
GENEVIEVE LICKED A DELICIOUS morsel of chocolate chip cookie from her finger and glanced toward the door. No sign of Willow or the nanny and the toddler returning from the restroom as of yet. “Okay. You ready?”
Helen saluted with her pen. “Ready.”
“The jezebel’s name was Jenna Elizabeth Randall. She wasn’t a native of Nashville. Maggie thinks she was from South Carolina, but it could have been North Carolina.”
“Jezebel.” Helen snorted. “Did you get any numbers? Driver’s license? Social?”
Genevieve scoffed. “No. Maggie doesn’t remember numbers any better than I, and she’s distracted because of Tom. I’m lucky to have gotten what I did out of her.”
“All right. What else do you have?”
“Jenna met Andy at the country club where he golfed. She worked in the pro shop.”
“I’ll just bet she did,” Helen agreed. “You confirmed she died of an aneurysm?”
“That’s what Maggie said. She was listed as the emergency number for Jenna’s work and daycare. The only number.”
“So, she could have family somewhere!” Helen declared.
“Maggie says she doesn’t.”
Helen wagged her finger at her sister. “Well, it’s in Maggie’s best interests to believe that, isn’t it, if she wants to keep little Andy Junior?”
“So, where do we start?” Genevieve tapped her index finger against her lip and thought a moment. “Do we hire a private investigator in Tennessee?”
“I actually have a friend who might be able to help us.”
“I thought you might,” Genevieve said.
“I gave him a call this morning.”
“I thought you might,” Genevieve repeated, a grin fluttering on her lips.
“He said to phone ASAP with any further info we could glean.”
“Phone him right now. It takes a few minutes to change a dirty diaper.”
Helen nodded in agreement and dialed the number. She connected with a man Genevieve surmised was an attorney with whom her sister had previously worked. Helen relayed the little information they knew about AJ Randall and his mother in a short conversation that ended just as Willow arrived with the toddler on her hip. Genevieve wondered aloud. “Where’s the nanny?”
“Willow doesn’t look happy.”
“You think the nanny ditched us already?”
Willow walked up and put the baby in the high chair. “Pour me a double, please.”
Helen filled a glass with milk from the pitcher and handed it to Willow. “The nanny scarpered?”
“She’s outta here.” Willow handed the boy a cookie. He shoved it into his mouth. “He’s not her kid. She’s done her duty.”
All three women stared at AJ. Willow sipped her milk. “Well,” Genevieve said. “What now?”
“Chocolate. Chocolate. And more chocolate. For me, anyway. Probably need to watch the kids’ sugar intake, or I’ll be paying for it later.”
“They can have a couple cookies apiece, can’t they?” Genevieve, in her guise of Nana, asked.
“Of course. Noah will polish off what’s left. He has a sweet tooth.”
“Oh?” Helen said. “And you know this how?”
A hint of color stained Willow’s cheeks.
Well, isn’t that interesting?
“We’re friends.”
“How friendly of friends?” Helen asked, wagging her eyebrows. “How’s his leg injury doing? I haven’t noticed him limping of late. Healing coming along? Doesn’t interfere with, um, activities, I hope?”
“Auntie! I am not discussing my sex life with you and my mother.”
“Spoilsport,” Helen observed. She winked at Genevieve.
Willow rolled her eyes, and then in a defensive move worthy of a Sunday afternoon on the gridiron, she waved and called, “Drew! Emma! Noah! Come get cookies! They’re warm from the oven!”
“Good play, Willow,” Helen said. “Good play.”
“More, peas. More, peas,” AJ said.
“He wants peas?” Helen asked.
“He’s saying please,” Willow clarified as her children came running up the hill, followed by Noah.
Genevieve held her breath as Willow introduced Drew and Emma to AJ. It turned out that the children were more interested in the cookies than in their younger half brother. She was a little shocked when Willow referred to the boy as their “brother,” and Emma and Drew didn’t bat an eyelash. Noah glanced from AJ to Emma, then back to the little boy again, and said, “Hi, AJ. I’m Noah. Can I have a bite of your cookie?”
“Mine!” the toddler said, turning away and protecting his prize.
“Okay. Okay. I’ll get three of my own.” He did precisely that.
Willow explained to Noah that the nanny had unexpectedly returned to the airport. Drew shared news about fish, beetles, and ladybugs, while Emma attempted to interrupt with essential facts about butterflies and her suspicion that AJ had a stinky diaper.
“Already?” Willow groaned. She met her mother’s gaze and said, “I am so not ready for this.”
“I’m ready,” Drew piped up. “Can we go see our new house now, Mama? I want to see my new room. Mr. Tannehill says he might have found something in his attic that I can play with.”
“He did, did he?” Willow met Noah’s gaze, and they shared a smile.
Genevieve met Helen’s gaze, and they shared an entire conversation.
Ten minutes later, the group was on their way to Noah’s Hideaway, Genevieve and Helen having offered to help with the move-in because they were curious more than because they were needed.
Genevieve rode with Helen on the drive out, and the sisters fleshed out their plans for their upcoming trip, which they’d dubbed the Fangirl Follies. So far, they’d gotten tickets to see Rod Stewart in Vegas, Jason Isbell in Nashville, and Jackson McBride playing a special benefit at his dance hall in Texas. “We’re limited by the election timeline,” Helen admitted with a sigh. “I’m bummed we won’t be able to kick off our trip or close it with a Kenny Chesney concert. But you know, if I were to lose the election, we’d have a lot more latitude.”
“You are not going to lose the election. Not with me as your campaign manager.”
“Well, I haven’t exactly seen you working your fingers to the bone.”
Genevieve held up her hand. “I have stitches!”
“Well, it wasn’t campaigning for me that caused that. It was your temper.”
“You’re right. I’m going to dive in tomorrow. You know, I thought about it during my walk this morning. Perhaps I’ll discover that campaigning is a passion of mine.”
“Uh-huh.”
“It could happen. You’ve actually already given me another idea to try.”
“Oh yeah?” Helen glanced away from the road long enough to give her a wide-eyed look. “Spill the beans.”
“Not beans. Fish. Do you remember Jack Harrington? He was the banker I went out with a few times about five years or so after David died.”
“I do remember Jack. He drove that classic Firebird, didn’t he? The yellow one?”
“He did. But he also kept fish. Tropical fish. It was really quite fascinating. He did a lot of research into the kind of fish to group together in his aquariums. Plus, they’re fascinating to watch. Mesmerizing.”
“Yes, they are. If you’re snorkeling in the South Pacific.”
“Maybe I want to bring the South Pacific to my living room in December.”
Helen shook her head. “I don’t see it, but it’s your passion. Speaking of passion, did you see the same sparks flying that I did between Willow and Noah?”
“I did.”
“Very interesting that she’s moving in with him.”
Genevieve pursed her lips. “Well, not in the traditional sense of the term.”
“We’ll see.” Helen drummed her fingers on the steering wheel and let a full minute pass before she spoke again. “I saw Zach Throckmorton in the coffee shop today. He said his dad is ornery as ever after his medical scare.”
“That’s a fair assessment. I went up to the Triple T this morning and fixed breakfast for him. He was in full grumble.”
“Well now.” Helen shot her sister an appraising look. “Wasn’t that neighborly of you? And you with stitches in your hand, too.”
“I’m accustomed to playing injured, and yes, I was being neighborly. Gage is my friend. I was worried about him. When we spoke on the phone last night, he spent half the conversation complaining about the changes his doctor wants him to make in his diet. I thought I’d show him that a heart-healthy meal can be delicious.”
“It’s difficult to make major lifestyle changes after decades of being set in your ways,” Helen observed. “Which brings me back to this search of yours. Maybe you should make taking care of Gage Throckmorton your next passion.”
“Maybe you should pay attention to your driving, Helen. You just missed the turn.” Genevieve allowed the barest hint of a smile to settle on her lips as she added, “I think I’ll see how it goes with the tropical fish first.”
“I’m intrigued,” said Noah, eyeing with interest the grocery sack Willow set upon the kitchen counter. “My mother was a wonderful person, but the only kind of mac and cheese she ever made came out of a box. With orange powder.”
“Well, I warned you not to expect anything fancy, but homemade mac and cheese is Drew’s and Emma’s favorite celebration food.”
“I don’t care about food,” Drew declared. “I want to see my room! Can we go see my room, please?”
Willow reached over and clapped one hand across her son’s mouth and pointed toward the living room with the other. “Lower your voice, Drew. Remember, Nana is rocking AJ to sleep.”
“He’s getting close,” Helen said, glancing away from her perusal of the bookshelves that lined one wall of the great room and toward the rocking chair where Genevieve tended the toddler.
Noah winked at Drew. “I’ll show them their rooms if that’s okay with you, Willow.”
“Sure. Thanks, Noah.” Emma and Drew began rushing toward the staircase. Willow added a warning note to her voice as she called after them. “Quiet feet! Let Mr. Noah go first.”
He’d suggested the change to his name to make it easier for the kids, and the Eldridges had enthusiastically agreed. As he led the children up the stairs, Noah was surprisingly nervous, which was stupid. What did it matter if the kids liked the things he’d put out for them? Drew had his own things. Hell, Noah’s stuff was old. Nothing used a computer chip to run. And Emma, well, she was female. What made him ever think he knew what a female might want?
“Wow!” Drew stepped into a room that still smelled like paint. “Oh, wow. A telescope. There’s a telescope in the window.”
“Don’t touch the walls,” Noah warned. “Paint is still wet.”
He’d painted a fantasy galaxy on one wall—stars, planets, and a nebula. He’d gotten a bit carried away, but circles were quick and easy to paint. Once he’d remembered the telescope and all the books about space, well, he figured Drew was just about the right age.
Emma walked up to Noah and pulled on his pants leg. “Do I have a telescope, Mr. Noah?”
“No, sunshine. I have something else for you.” Noah’s nerves ratcheted up another notch as he led the little girl—Drew wasn’t budging from his space—to the room next door.
Already decorated in pink-and-white ruffles and butterflies for Daniel’s Maddie, the room now also included a child-sized table and two chairs he’d brought down from the attic. Atop the table sat drawing paper, coloring books, markers, and a brand-new sixty-four-count box of crayons.
This room had a bay window with a built-in window seat, making it the bedroom’s centerpiece. He watched Emma’s face as she saw what he’d placed there. “It’s a house. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen!”
“Let me show you how it works.” He crossed the room and after a moment’s hesitation, went down on his knees. Only a twinge of pain. Making progress. Pleased, he focused his attention on wide-eyed Emma and smiled as he flipped up the latches that allowed the roof and walls to open, revealing the rooms inside. “It’s a dollhouse. See? Here’s all the furniture. You can move it around any way you like. Here are some dolls. You can make them be Emmas or Drews or mommies.”
“Or daddies?”
Noah cleared his throat. “Daddies, too. Here are some clothes in this wardrobe. I made a couple of dogs, too. See?”
“Puppies! Oh, Mr. Noah! You made this dollhouse? All by yourself ?”
“I did.”
“Do you play with dolls?”
“No.” Noah chuckled. “But I heard you do. So I made it for you.”
Her eyes went round as the Earth on Drew’s bedroom wall. “What? For me? For keeps?”
“For keeps.”
“Oh, Mr. Noah, thank you! But why did you do this for me? It’s not my birthday, and it’s not Christmas, either.”
“Well, when you asked me to dance at your uncle Jake’s wedding, I was grumpy, and I wasn’t very nice to you. I felt bad about that. I wanted to apologize, so I made you a dollhouse.”
“That’s okay, Mr. Noah.” Emma threw her arms around him and hugged him hard. “We all get grumpy sometimes. Mama says I’m her little ray of sunshine. Maybe I’m just your little ray of sunshine, too.”
“I guess you are.”
“If that’s not the sweetest thing I’ve seen in a month of Sundays,” came Helen’s voice from behind them.
Noah glanced over his shoulder. All three women were standing in the hallway watching the little tableau in Emma’s room. Genevieve must have found the nursery because her arms were empty, her hands clasped over her heart.
Willow looked at him all sort of mushy. “This was for Emma all along?”
Noah shrugged and climbed to his feet. “I guess you found AJ’s nursery, Genevieve?”
“I did. Everything is so nice, Noah. This is so generous of you to do.”
“Drew can’t wait for the sun to go down,” Helen added. “You might not get him down for supper, Willow.”
“Speaking of supper…” Genevieve linked her arm with her sister’s. “Helen and I are going to skip out on that tonight if you don’t mind, Willow.”
“We are?” Helen looked at her sister in surprise.
“We have some campaign planning to do.”
“Oh. Yes. That’s right. We do.”
“Emma, come give Nana a kiss good-bye,” Genevieve said.
