by Barbara Lohr
“Unbelievable, isn’t it?”
In the back of Adam’s truck, her drafting table was sandwiched between boxes of clothes and art supplies. Her grandfather’s rocker stood upright, covered with a faded blue quilted bedspread. In Harper’s favorite poster, Frida Kahlo viewed the scene with mild distaste.
Frida wasn’t the only one having second thoughts.
Adam turned off the motor. “Charlie let you out of your lease? How amazing is that?”
“Almost embarrassing how happy he looked. You can’t blame the guy for wanting to be paid on a regular basis. That wasn’t happening since Billy skipped town.”
“Harper, don’t get me wrong. I’m going to miss you. But that apartment wasn’t helping you move on.”
“You think he’s really not coming back, huh?” She gnawed her thumbnail.
“Is a blue bird blue? And good riddance, girl.” Adam snorted. Her boyfriend and her male friend never got along. Adam had a point. Leaving the old neighborhood might help her put Billy in the past. Staring up at her new home, Harper wished she felt better about this whole thing.
“Someday maybe we’ll see Billy Colton’s name in the credits for some outrageous indie film.” Adam made a sweeping motion across the dashboard. “But he’ll still be an idiot.”
“Right. The butthead, as one of my nephews would say. With his luck, my ex-boyfriend will probably win an Oscar.”
“Will he thank you in his acceptance speech for supporting him through his formative years?”
Her laugh sounded more like a bark. After four years of living together, Billy had dumped her. Still felt like that had happened to another girl.
“Earth to Harper.” Adam snapped his fingers in front of her face.
“Sorry, Adam.” Her hand jerked on the door handle.
Climbing out of the truck, she fought the memories of the bachelor party. She had to put that night out of her mind.
Adam lowered the back of the truck and they each grabbed a box. Connie had given her directions to the back door. Harper took the lead and they trekked around the corner to a gate left open in the high brick wall. Inside the courtyard, the perennials were bagged and tied neatly, just like Harper’s mom did each year.
Adam’s eyes widened as they traipsed through the yard. Long two-story porches overlooked a fountain where a mermaid frolicked, water spouting from her open lips. “Definitely good party material here.”
“Let’s remember, I’m hired help.” Maybe Harper could sit out here with Bella and read books or play games. She pushed a button next to the back door and a bell rang inside.
The door opened immediately and the smell of fresh coffee wafted onto the morning air. “Come on in.” Connie stepped back. When Harper introduced Adam to the housekeeper, Connie merely nodded. All business, she turned toward the front of the house. “Now, let’s get you settled.”
On the way down the hall, Adam mouthed, “Oh. My. God.” Her box grew heavier as they trudged behind Connie to the second floor. Good thing she was wearing her running shoes. The lush Oriental rugs Cameron seemed to favor didn’t look flip-flop friendly.
“One more floor.” Connie pulled open a tall door in the center of the second floor landing. They kept climbing. Harper felt relieved that she wouldn’t be sleeping on the same floor with Cameron. That would really have freaked her out.
Would help if he were a lot older.
Not so hot.
Didn’t have those baby blue eyes.
How ridiculous. He was her employer, for Pete’s sake. Finally they reached the third level. The heat up here felt alarmingly airless. Resting the box on one knee, Harper swept one hand across her damp brow. Thank goodness she’d put her hair in pigtails. In her denim cutoffs and pink T-shirt, she still felt the heat.
Connie bustled over to a thermostat. “I’ll turn the air on. We don’t use it unless we need it.”
No kidding. Harper could barely breathe.
“The stairs will keep you in shape, not that you need it.” Connie’s soft stomach rolls suggested she spent more time in the kitchen than laboring up the steps.
Harper’s shoes sank into the dated deep pink carpet. Cabbage roses patterned the faded wallpaper. Four doors opened from a spacious landing and Harper got a glimpse of a clawfoot tub in a bathroom at the end of the hall. She hoped a shower went with it.
“The nannies have all used this room.” Connie pushed a door open.
Nannies? How many had there been?
Stepping into the room larger than her parents’ living room, Harper took in the queen-size bed, antique white dressing table and matching dresser. Light filtered in through filmy sheer curtains at the dormer windows. At least, she would not have to deal with dusty brocade drapes. The pale mint green walls needed a little pep, but she could handle that. She’d painted the last apartment jewel purple for inspiration, with a bright spring green kitchen. Charlie had withheld their deposit, calling her beautiful paint job vandalism.
“This is just fine,” she breathed. From the window she could look down into the huge live oak towering over the garden. The sudden urge to sketch took her by surprise. She hadn’t felt that in a long time.
“Guess I’ll put this right here.” Adam set his box down on a captain’s chest at the foot of the bed and Harper put hers right next to it. Later she’d unpack. This whole floor was hers and she loved it. Sure, the room looked like something from a bygone era, but it was a relief after her sad apartment with uneven floors and windows painted shut.
And minus one boyfriend.
Connie pushed back the sheers. “Myra comes at least once a week to help me clean, so no problem there. Your main responsibility is Bella. Trust me, she’s a full-time job. Poor thing.” Then she stopped, like she’d said too much. Stepping over to the dresser, she began opening drawers. Third drawer down, she dug out what looked like a pair of pink panties.
Face coloring, she crammed the wisp into one pocket of her khaki slacks. “Sorry. Thought I’d cleaned this out after the last one.”
Adam and Harper exchanged a look. So the last nanny had left in a hurry? Harper sucked in a deep breath. The money was good and she was out of options. And this time she’d follow through.
“You never finish anything, Harper,” had been Billy’s parting words in the final phone call. Truth was, he was right. Why had she helped him finish his projects when she never got around to completing her own?
Connie clasped her hands together. “Washer and dryer on the lower level.” The housekeeper spewed information with the ease of a well-practiced speech. Poor woman. Harper’s ears perked up when she heard “car at her disposal” and “let me know about any special menu choices.”
The benefits weren’t shabby. Almost like a gift dropped into her lap.
Later, she would remember this and howl.
Two more trips to the pickup and she was moved in. Sweat coated her skin and she was reaching for her inhaler, but she was here. Adam helped set up her drafting table next to the window.
“Great place to work.” He snapped the final leg into place.
Casting a glance into the secluded garden, Harper smiled. “Might be too many distractions.”
“Time to focus. Work.” Adam wagged a finger at her.
She straightened, remembering the promise she’d made to herself. No matter what, she was going to make this work. “I intend to but I’m sure going to miss having you next door. You know, to borrow that cup of sugar.”
Chuckling, she hugged Adam goodbye. They both knew she never baked.
“Trust me. You don’t want my sugar, sugga.”
Yep, sure going to miss him.
Pulling back, he frowned. “Sure you’re okay with this?”
“Absolutely.” She pushed him away. “Look, I know I’ve been a mess, but it’s time for me to get on with my life.”
“Forget that boy. He’s history.”
“Got it.” She socked him playfully in the arm. This new job would keep her too bus
y to wallow in the past. “Come on, I’ll walk you down.”
Ten minutes later, Harper watched Adam drive away from the row of mansions that could have harbored Scarlett O’Hara. So hoity toity, as her mother would say. Longing squeezed her heart. For just a second, she yearned for the trees of Oak Park, not these live oaks draped with moss.
Late the night before, she’d talked to her sister.
“Sounds like a great opportunity for you. Step into it. Own it.” McKenna always bolstered her spirits.
Harper lifted her head. Even the sun felt new that morning as she crossed the back garden and sprinted up the stairs.
Connie was loading the dishwasher in the kitchen. “Bella’s in the TV room.”
“Thanks, Connie.” Harper found her new charge flopped on the sage green sofa watching an animated cartoon. Figures in intimidating black and brown wielded huge swords. Body parts flew. In a fluffy pink dress, Bella looked dressed for a party. One tiny patent leather shoe lolled over the edge of the sofa, beating time to the sound effects.
“Hey, Bella.”
She didn’t look up.
“What are you watching?” Harper plopped down on the sofa.
Sighing, Bella twisted a length of her hair, eyes still on the screen. No wonder that dark mass looked knotted. “Stuff. Ninja warriors.”
One more screech from the screen and another head flew off. Bella didn’t flinch. Did anyone supervise the kid’s TV viewing? Harper didn’t see a TV Guide anywhere, and the basket of remote controls looked intimidating. With plantation shutters closed against the sunny day, the room felt like an elegant dungeon. “Want to show me your room?”
“I’m watching TV.”
“You can watch it later, okay?”
Bad enough that Billy had gotten the best of her. A four year-old? No way. Harper started clicking the remotes until she hit the jackpot and the screen darkened.
After a dark glance, Bella rolled off the couch and stomped from the room. Harper followed her indignant march up the stairs. A lemony smell that tickled the back of her throat pervaded the house. Did Myra realize that scent-free cleaning products came in a spray instead of aerosol? A shopping list formed in Harper’s mind.
Bella kicked open a door at the top of the stairs. “Here.” Myra must get tired of cleaning the scuff marks off this door.
Harper stepped into the room. “You sure have a lot of toys.” The bedroom had the look of a toy store and the feel of a cave. A wide pink net strung across one corner sagged beneath the weight of stuffed animals. The high-canopied bed reminded Harper of the little girl’s clothes—all ruffles and doodads. A white dust ruffle peeked out from a tufted pink comforter festooned with a gazillion tiny bows. At one corner of the bed stood a huge panda, with a giant giraffe in another. “These guys look big enough to be in a zoo.”
Harper eyed the little girl cautiously. When she was a little girl, she’d always been afraid that there was a bear in her closet. Although her brothers had teased her, McKenna insisted Harper’s door stay open at night.
“Yeah,” Bella murmured, as if she’d read Harper’s mind. “Kinda scary.”
Harper’s mental list grew. She’d have a talk with Cameron about toys that could loom dangerously in the dark. She also wondered about all the stuffed toys that could harbor dust. Shelves of colorful toys lined the walls and a fully tricked out dollhouse stood in the corner. Was there anything this little girl didn’t have?
A set of French doors opened out onto the upper porch. “Wanna go outside?” Bella asked, pushing open one of the doors.
Harper nodded. Imagine having a room that looked out onto that garden, so secluded and magical. The height was dizzying, and she glanced at Bella running her hand over the wrought-iron railing. Was she really allowed out here alone?
Rattan furniture with green cushions patterned with palm trees was arranged along the porch that stretched all the way to what must be Cameron’s room. Did he spend time out here?
She pulled her attention to the tree. “Will you just look at the birds,” she murmured, eyes glued to the cardinals having a heyday in the tall live oak.
“We gots lots of birds.” Clutching two of the porch spindles, Bella leaned back.
“Oh, be careful.” When Harper pulled her charge’s hands from the railing, the little girl thrust out her lower lip. “I just want you to be safe.”
“My dad doesn’t let me come out here very much,” Bella admitted, releasing her hold.
Good to know. “Of course not but I’m with you now.”
Wheeling away, Bella stalked back into her room with Harper close on her heels.
“Want to see my clothes?” Not waiting for a reply, Bella threw a door open. Talk about over-kill. The ruffles, bows, and artificial flowers seemed oppressive. Did little girls wear straw hats? Four or five were arranged on an upper shelf. Growing up, Harper probably had tennis shoes and dress shoes for the holidays. This kid had about ten pairs of shoes neatly arranged on a floor rack. Maybe they matched the linen dresses that looked about as comfortable as metal armor.
“Where did you get all these dresses?”
Bella’s mouth pinched. “Kimmy.”
Hmm. A new name. “Who is Kimmy?”
“Daddy’s girlfriend. She always brings me presents.”
Okay. Not a total surprise that Cameron was seeing someone. But Bella’s expression made Harper sad. Never had a little girl looked less excited about presents, for Pete’s sake.
“They’re very pretty. Where are your play clothes?” Harper quietly shut the closet door.
“Play clothes,” Bella repeated slowly, as if learning a new term.
“You know, when you want to go outside.”
“You mean, when I go to school?”
“You go to school?” She’d check with Connie.
“I’m a big girl, and I gots to wear dresses to school.” The sigh told Harper just what Bella thought of that. Walking out of her bedroom, Bella stared down at the other end of the hall. “Want to see my dad’s room? He works a lot up here.”
“No,” Harper said so quickly that Bella’s eyes widened. “I mean, maybe you could show me the downstairs. I’ve never really seen that.” But as she started down the stairs, Harper glanced toward the far end of the hall. Could Cameron hear Bella if she woke up in the night?
Downstairs, Harper followed Bella through an archway into the front parlor.
In the living room, heavy sage colored draperies were drawn back, letting in the late morning sun. An elaborate chandelier glistened overhead with complementing sconces at either side of the fireplace. Unlike the comfortable TV room, the furniture in this room felt stiff and formal, from the Edwardian chairs to the Victorian loveseats. From what she’d studied, in these families furnishings were handed down, not purchased like her father’s Barcalounger, his favorite Christmas gift.
“You use this room often?” Harper asked Bella, taking in the porcelain figures of the Three Graces on the mantel.
“No.” She wrinkled up her face. “It’s boring.”
Okay then.
Trailing behind the four-year-old, Harper followed her into an enormous dining room. As a college student, she’d gone on plenty of house tours, including the Mercer House. In most southern mansions, the rooms were enclosed, isolating each family activity. Cameron’s house had a nice, easy flow that suggested renovation had been done. An elaborate chandelier hung over a long cherry table. Silver pieces gleamed on the marble top of the side credenza. “So, do you eat dinner in here?”
“Sometimes.” Bella’s voice became muffled after she tucked two fingers into her mouth. “Daddy and me.”
Too late, Harper remembered Cameron’s comments about Bella’s eating. The dining room might not be the little girl’s favorite place.
“Time for lunch.” Connie poked her head in the door.
“Bella mentioned that she goes to school,” Harper commented as they walked into the kitchen. She wanted to keep the expectation
s clear.
“Mr. Bennett didn’t tell you that?” Connie looked surprised.
“Not yet. I’m hoping to meet with him soon.”
Muttering under her breath, Connie gave a shake of her short curls. “Always so much on his mind. Bella goes to school on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. You can use the silver BMW for transportation. Keys are over there.” She nodded to the wall with a row of brass hooks holding key fobs.
The BMW? Not too shabby.
The kitchen sparkled, from the copper pots over the spacious work island to the brushed chrome of the double-door refrigerator. Obviously Connie was proud of her domain.
“We usually have lunch in here.” The housekeeper motioned to a cozy circular table and began pulling containers from the refrigerator.
“Can I help?” Harper didn’t want the older woman waiting on her.
Bella climbed into her booster seat. Propping her head up with one hand, she gave the two women a speculative glance, as if biding her time. Sometimes she seemed much older than four.
“I’m just making some turkey sandwiches, but you could mix together Bella’s lunch.” Pulling out a box from one of the cupboards, Connie quirked one finger at Harper and began to pour what looked like baby cereal into a bowl.
“That looks sickening,” she whispered to Connie.
“Only thing she’ll eat,” the housekeeper managed to say without moving her lips.
After the pleasant tour where she felt she’d made some headway with Bella, Harper’s mood plummeted. Opening the refrigerator, Connie took out a carton of soy milk and poured some into a sippy cup and then into the bowl of dry cereal. Harper’s stomach quivered as Connie stirred. Then the housekeeper plopped the bowl in front of Bella along with the sippy cup.
While the three of them ate, Harper tried to block out the image of Bella shoveling mush into her mouth. “Does that taste good, Bella?”
“Guess so.” She shrugged.
Although Bella cleaned her bowl, Harper was alarmed by how thin she was. Didn’t her father see this? But this was, after all, her first day. Not the best time for comments that could be taken as criticism. She was determined to like this job.