Triplets Found, page 41
When she opened the door, Sam spun to face her, a butter knife in one hand and a jar of mayonnaise in the other. He looked momentarily stunned, but recovered in short order. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”
Erin crossed her arms and smiled. “No. I’m an early riser. I wanted to come out and chat with you before you left, if it doesn’t disrupt your routine too much.”
“Oh. Well.” Sam seemed at a loss, then he indicated the coffeemaker with the butter knife. “Join me in a cup of coffee. If you’d like. Are you a coffee drinker?”
“Thank you. Yes,” said Erin. “Don’t mind if I do.” She crossed to the cupboards, opening two before finding mugs inside the third. “What time does Jessica usually get up?” she asked, as she filled her mug with the aromatic brew.
“There’s a question that should be easy to answer but isn’t. I used to have to wake her and get her ready before I left for work, poor thing.” He pulled a face. “She didn’t like it one single bit. I don’t think she’s going to be a morning person.”
“I can imagine, and I can’t blame her, either.” Erin took her mug and sat down at the table. “I’ll wait until seven-thirty to wake her, I think.”
Sam worked on his lunch in silence for a few moments, then sealed it all in a black lunch container. He poured himself a cup of coffee, then turned toward Erin. With his hip propped against the counter, he studied her but said nothing.
Erin tried not to squirm beneath his scrutiny as he eyed her over the brim of his mug while he drank. She swallowed thickly, curling her fingers around the warm comfort of her own mug. She had to say something. Anything. This silence was like a big elephant hunkered in the corner of the kitchen. “So…um, should I hold dinner for you tonight?”
“Never any need for that,” Sam said, with a decisive huff. “I don’t ever know when I’ll be home, unfortunately.”
She bit her lip and nodded, her gaze drifting slowly down toward the steaming dark brew in her coffee cup.
“But…I’ll call if I’m going to be home at a reasonable hour. If you want.”
“Yes, please. I’d like to feed Jessica dinner at six o’clock in the evenings. So, if it’s not by then, I’ll have to save you leftovers.”
“Duly noted.”
She dipped her chin slightly, but kept her tone light. “It would be good, too, if you maintained her meal schedule as much as possible on the weekends if I’m not here.”
“Okay, you’ll have to remind me…”
“Maybe I can type up some sort of schedule for the fridge.”
“Great idea. You’re welcome to use my computer. It’s in the den, upstairs. Second door on the right.”
Erin almost told him she had her own laptop and printer set up in her sitting room, but what was she—crazy? He was giving her free rein to enter his private area of the house. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“So,” Sam asked, “is that what you wanted to talk to me about? Dinner? Or…schedules?”
“No.” Erin lifted her shoulders and let them drop. “I just have a few questions, so I can start working with Jess in the way that will help her best. I don’t mean to be overeager, but—”
“Fire away. I’m eager, too.”
Erin cleared her throat. “How does Jessica react when you share your feelings about what happened to your wife.”
A muscle in his jaw ticked, and he looked away. “This isn’t about me. It’s about my daughter.”
“Well…yes. But you’re grieving, too. Right?”
He paused for an uncomfortably long time, then gave a grudging half-nod.
“At her age, Jessica is just learning how to deal with emotions, Sam. She’s going to take all her cues from you.”
“Meaning what?”
“If you want her to come out of her shell, you’ll have to venture out of yours a bit.”
“I don’t have a shell,” he said, sharply.
Erin softened her tone, but her heart started to pound. She hated confrontations. “I’m not trying to pry, Sam. But, we’re going to have to work together on this. You’re the closest person to that baby girl. I’m just here to help. I need to know how she…and you…handle the tragedy.”
His face took on a pained mask. “I know. Okay, fine. What do you need from me?”
“Well, basic information so I know how to approach Jessica.”
Sam spread his arms. “I’m right here listening.”
Erin fought back the urge to roll her eyes, then adjusted in her chair and met his gaze directly and repeated her question in a slightly different way. “How does Jessica act when you talk about her mother?”
“I don’t talk about her mother.”
A frisson of shock spiraled through Erin, and she had to blink a couple times to keep it off her face. “Ever?”
Color rose up Sam’s neck at her incredulous tone, and he cut his glance away. “I don’t want to upset her. I’m trying to help her get over the whole…thing.”
Thing. He was so deep into denying his own pain, he couldn’t even say the words. Erin pressed her lips together, then bought a bit of time by taking a sip of coffee. Maybe she needed to come at this topic from another direction. “What about looking through her pictures? Family photos of good times, memorabilia, her mother’s clothing, that stuff?”
“I actually put all the pictures of Jenny away, except for the one I framed for Jessica’s bedroom. Same deal with her clothes, perfume, and any stuff that wasn’t lost in the fire. I didn’t want—”
“To upset her.”
He muttered an exasperated sound. “I’m trying to be strong for her, Erin, after all she’s been through.”
“I understand. I’m not judging you. I’m simply trying to gather information about what’s been done so far.” Erin blew out a small breath. “Does she cry about the fire? Or about losing her mother? Any of it?”
He considered it. “No. I mean, sometimes she seems withdrawn and glum, but I just let her be. She might not even be thinking of Jenny. Who knows what her moods are about, really?”
Not you, if you don’t ask.
“I don’t want to interfere or pressure her if she’s feeling…however a two-year-old would feel about such a thing.” He looked puzzled suddenly. “How would a two-year-old feel about such a thing?”
Erin flipped her hand. “As many different ways as there are children. It depends on the child. All people handle loss differently, even tiny people.” She sipped, gathering her courage to get back to the central issue again. “What do you do when you feel especially upset about what occurred?”
A muscle in his jaw jumped, and his gaze drifted to somewhere above her head. “I guess I…leave the room. Take some time alone to get my head straight.”
“Just…leave?”
He hiked one shoulder, a tense jerky movement. “No sense laying that rap on a tiny child. She doesn’t need a weak father on top of everything else.”
“Mmmmmm.” Her non-answer visibly agitated him.
“We keep busy, you know? Try not to think about it.”
Erin peered up at him from beneath her lashes.
“What? Am I doing everything wrong? Great. That would be about par for the course,” he muttered, almost to himself.
She tilted her head side to side, slowly. “Not wrong. But I think there are things we can do…together…to make it better for Jessica. We need to start with you, though.”
“This isn’t about me,” he said, voice slightly raised.
“It’s very much about you, Sam. Your wife died.”
“Jessica’s mother died.”
“Jessica’s mother, who was also your wife.”
“I don’t understand where we’re going with this.”
The exasperation in his words was palpable, and Erin decided she’d pressured him enough for one morning. She eased back. He hadn’t given her much information, but his reticence spoke volumes and gave her a place to start. He probably had no idea. Erin wrapped her fingers loosely around her mug and gave him a bland smile. “Someday soon, when you’re ready, I want you to tell me the details about the fire. That’ll help me.”
“O-okay. But, I’d really like you to focus on my daughter. You’re her nanny. I’m doing just fine.”
“I understand.”
He turned and gathered his lunchbox and Thermos, and Erin sucked in a deep, calming breath. She had her work cut out for her with this little family, especially starting with papa bear.
She centered her mind and squared her shoulders for confidence. So much of his attitude mirrored her brother, Eamon’s coping method when little Bryce had died. Fathers often felt they had to be the pillar of strength for everyone else, without understanding what kind of an example that set for the very children they wanted to help, and without ever coming to terms with their own private pain.
“But, I want you to know, Sam, that I’m very focused on Jessica. Please don’t ever doubt that. That’s why I’m asking these uncomfortable questions. I apologize for having to do that, but we’re going to have to work together, and I know I sound like a broken record. Unfortunately, it’s true.” She tilted her head apologetically. “I can’t make big changes in Jessie’s life without you. I’m a stranger, though hopefully not for long. Still, you’re her parent. Your impact is greater.”
Sam turned, appraising her through an inscrutable expression. “I hear you,” he said, finally, in an oddly gentle gruff tone. “I’m not trying to be difficult.”
“Comes naturally, huh?”
His momentary surprise was replaced with a sexy half-smile.
Erin stood, smiling back and hoping to leave the conversation on a light note. “I’m just kidding. Anyway, we can talk about it more later. I didn’t intend to make you late for work.”
Sam swallowed thickly, seeming to accept her olive branch. “It’s okay. What are your plans today?”
Erin shrugged, glancing around the pretty red and cream kitchen. “I thought Jessica and I would just hang out around the house, get used to each other.”
Sam nodded. “I’d like to install a carseat in your Bug before you drive anywhere with her.”
“Of course. I’d never take her out without proper child restraints.” Her brow furrowed, and she tapped her bottom lip with the pad of her index finger. “We should do that soon, though, in case there is some emergency.”
Sam got a distant, haunted look in his eyes for a moment, then nodded. He set down his Thermos and lunch container. “You’re absolutely right. I’ll do it now.”
“Oh, but—” Surprised, Erin stood and pulled the lapels of her robe around her more tightly. “You’ll be late.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, well, like I said, we’re not going anywhere today.”
“I know. But like you also said, you’ll need that car seat in case of emergencies. You never know when something will crop up, which is why they’re called emergencies. Believe me, I know that all too well.”
Respecting his pain, Erin knew better than to argue the point. And, anyway, it was true. Who’s to say she and Jessica wouldn’t run into some sort of crisis on day one of the job, and she’d absolutely hate to be stranded. “Okay, well, let me just get dressed and get my keys, and I’ll help you.”
“I’ll meet you outside. Incidentally, you’re welcome to park your car in the garage. There’s plenty of space.”
She smiled. “Thank you, Sam. That’s very considerate. Daisy Mae will love living inside.”
He narrowed his gaze, studying her as if she were crazy. “You named your car?”
“Doesn’t everyone?” Sam shook his head, and Erin headed off toward her wing, happiness and hopefulness making her footsteps light as air. First she moved in, and now her VW Bug, Daisy Mae, would be moving in, too. Other than pulling teeth when it came to getting any help or information out of Sam, Erin liked the way their relationship was progressing so far. Yes, indeed, she liked it a lot.
Chapter Five
Sam was in a full-blown brood by the time he reached the worksite, complete with dark thoughts, “buyer’s remorse” in the nanny department, and a whole-face scowl that would bring small children and tender-hearted women to tears. He stomped his way into the trailer that held the site offices, slamming the door behind him and then setting down his metal lunch container harder and louder than necessary. He shouldn’t be this angry, but he couldn’t seem to shake it.
“Wow,” Mia said, used to his mercurial moods and nonplussed by them, as always. Sam liked that about her. “Did you find a rock in your cereal bowl this morning, or what?”
Sam deepened his scowl, ignoring the question while he hung his jacket on a hook by the door. He stalked over and warmed his coffee with fresh, hot brew from a pot Mia had just made, taking his time to formulate an answer. Other men might take a problem like this to family to discuss, but Sam had no one. He’d had Mia available as a friend and sounding board for several years now, although he still held her at arm’s length—to the extreme. He’d always been a lone wolf, but Erin’s questioning had him spooked, and right now he really did need to vent to someone. Mia was it.
After a fortifying sip of coffee, he turned toward Mia. Leaning his back against a four-drawer file cabinet, he hooked his legs at the ankle and studied his secretary from beneath his furrowed brows. He had so much to say and no skills for molding it all into logical conversation. Defeated, he settled for, “I don’t know about this nanny thing.”
“Second thoughts already?” Mia sank into her desk chair, pulled out a file drawer, and propped her feet on it. She didn’t look the least bit surprised by his comment. “Well, I’m all ears. What did the poor girl do? Breathe in your air space?”
“Very funny.” Sam filled her in on the grilling he’d received in the kitchen that morning.
To his surprise, Mia didn’t look horrified. Baffled was more like it. “And what exactly do you have a problem with, Sam? The fact that she asked the questions? The way she asked them?”
He bugged his eyes, unable to grasp that Mia couldn’t see the wrongness of it all. “I can’t seem to make her understand that it’s Jessica’s pain and suffering I’m worried about, not mine. This has nothing whatsoever to do with me.”
Mia fussed with the buttons on her blouse, avoiding eye contact and saying nothing. Her lips were pursed in that way that told Sam she had a lot to say but didn’t plan on saying a word of it for fear of his wrath.
“What?” Sam spread his arms. “I know you have an opinion on this, so go ahead. God knows, the women I’ve been around lately aren’t exactly holding back.”
Mia peered up at him for several long, scrutinizing moments. “Everyone’s pain and suffering deserves validation.”
“Geez.” He snorted. “Is that from some feel-good wall plaque down at the Hallmark store?”
Mia rolled her eyes. “Seriously. Have you ever talked with anyone about Jenny’s death? About how you feel about Jenny’s death, the fire, any of it?”
Sam hung his head back and stared at the ceiling, not liking the ninety-degree turn of this conversation any more than he’d enjoyed the discussion with Erin earlier that morning. He didn’t need to be doubleteamed right now. “Not you, too.”
“There is absolutely nothing wrong with the question I just asked,” Mia said, in a prickly tone. “It’s a simple question about a complicated and emotional situation.”
“Doesn’t mean I want to talk about it.”
She sighed and gentled her words. “Sam, I know you’re the strong, silent type, and I also respect that you’re a private person. I’m not prying, nor am I asking you to talk to me. Unless you want to, in which case you know I’m always here.”
“I do know that.”
She dipped her chin and gave him a reproachful look. “But, maybe you should give this Erin a fair shot before you write her off. She’s only been there a day, and although she’s not the sweet, Gingersnapscented Grandma you’d hoped for, she seems to have your best interests at heart—”
“I want her to have Jess’s best interests at heart, that’s the problem.”
“Your best interests are Jessica.”
She had a point. He rolled his shoulders uncomfortably. “Still. There is no sense in me discussing Jenny’s death. I’m an adult. I can handle what happened better than Jessica can.”
“Says who?”
He spread his arms wide. “What’s talking about it going to do—bring Jenny back?”
“Of course not, but that’s not the issue.”
“I wish I knew the issue, then, because I don’t see one.”
“Didn’t you listen to what you just told me? All the questions Erin asked you were directly related to Jessica.”
He cocked his head to the side and narrowed his gaze. “How so? She seemed to be asking a whole lot about yours truly.”
“Yes. Because you’re Jess’s parent. And this Erin is also some sort of an expert with this kind of grief, right?”
“Right, but—”
“Humor me here.” She held up a finger and moistened her lips. “Could it be that she knows a little something about the recovery process that you or I don’t?”
His jaw ticked, but he nodded. Grudgingly.
“Well, then. Set limits with your sharing if you need to maintain your personal space. That’s fine. But give Erin every advantage in working with Jessica the best way she knows how. Jessica deserves that much, Sam, and it’s what you want.” He started to protest or defend, he wasn’t sure which, but she held up a hand. “Giving Erin total support in this might mean touching on uncomfortable topics for you. Buck up and accept it. You can take it. God knows, you’ve suffered through worse.”
He chewed on that for a few. “I don’t feel comfortable discussing my life with…the nanny.”
“Ahhhh.”
His gaze shot to her face and narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
