Robin hadn't suspected the precocious girl of that much sentimentality. "I'm glad she's fond of me, but I'm afraid there's more to being a mother than getting hired as a nanny. For one thing, I'd have to marry your father, and I'm afraid that's not going to happen."
"Why not?" asked Aaron, distracted from his tears.
"Because he's still in love with your mother." That seemed the simplest explanation. "Aaron, there’s no reason for you to be afraid. Your daddy is here to take care of you, and I'm here, too."
"Will you go away like the others?" the boy asked.
"I’m here now, and that’s what counts," Robin said. "I'll take care of you, Aaron."
A short time later, his breathing quieted and his body relaxed. The boy had fallen asleep in her arms.
Why had she promised to take care of him? Robin wondered as she slipped him onto the pillow and tucked him in Was it only because cradling him that way had aroused her maternal instinct. or was it because the children obviously needed her?
She recalled what Flint had said earlier about dreading Brick's adolescence. What about Caitlin and Aaron? Discipline had to be tempered with understanding and a sympathetic ear. As teenagers, they would rebel against a tyrannical father, perhaps sacrificing their best interests in the process.
Robin could never turn her back on the children. Whether she stayed as their nanny or left, she would always feel a sense of obligation to them.
More than obligation. Love.
As she checked on Caitlin and then retreated downstairs, Robin reflected that she and Flint had created these young lives together, even though they hadn't known each other. If Kathy were here, things would be different. Robin respected and admired the woman who had given birth to these children, but she was no longer around to counterbalance Flint's harshness.
Robin wasn't sure how she would manage to remain .a part of the children's lives after she no longer worked here. At some point, she supposed, she’d have to tell Flint the truth. She shuddered to think how he might react. Before she told Flint, she’d devise a plan for how the two of them could work together for the children's benefit.
It was a good thing she'd discovered her own vulnerability to Flint, Robin thought. That gave her fair warning to steel herself against him for the inevitable confrontation, whenever it might come.
*
As he flipped his bedroom calendar to August, Flint wondered where the week had gone.
Had it been only ten days ago that Robin moved in? Since their close encounter in the den, he'd plunged into his work, putting in evening hours that often kept him away at dinner. In the process, he'd lost track of the days passing.
Having landed the Serena Academy contract, Flint was determined to get off to a running start. Then the City Council had asked him to update his report for this afternoon's study session. Knowing that protestors would turn out, he'd made sure to bolster every recommendation with facts and figures.
Flint's thoughts returned to Robin. To his surprise, she’d said nothing about their passionate embrace and his sudden withdrawal. She'd appeared calm at breakfast the next morning, as if it never happened. No doubt she wished it hadn’t.
In the past week, Robin had adhered, more or less, to his schedule. She'd even shown initiative by suggesting that the hour between nine and ten a.m. be devoted to planting a vegetable garden.
She'd pointed to a backyard bed of summer flowers dying in the heat, and explained that, according to an article in the newspaper, this was the right time to plant fall vegetables such as sugar snap peas and Swiss chard. Flint, who tried to avoid lengthy conversations with Robin, had agreed that the project offered both scientific and exercise benefits.
In addition, she'd instituted a new discipline plan, posting a chart on the refrigerator. The kids received a check mark for bad behavior, although serious offenses could also result in time-outs or suspension of privileges. Five check marks in one day cost them a dollar from their ten-dollar weekly allowance.
When none of the children received a single mark all day, they got a treat at night—a special dessert, extra play time, or a permission to watch a noneducational TV show. It had worked better than Flint expected, although he entertained doubts about how long the cooperation would last.
After knotting his tie, he checked his watch. He was off to a late start. He'd spent part of the morning on the Internet, researching recent tests to locate new faults in the Los Angeles basin. Scientists had set off underground explosions and tracked the sound waves to create a seismic map. The results weren't final, but enough new data had been gleaned to support Flint's contention that Beachside needed to prepare for more frequent earthquakes than previously forecast.
It was always better to know the worst. However, he doubted the town's businesspeople would agree.
As he slid his wallet into one pocket and his keys into the other, the back door slammed. Children's voices filled the house.
Their excited shouts gave Flint pause. He pictured them stomping across the carpet with muddy shoes and dribbling fertilizer onto the furniture from their dirty clothes. Stepping out of the bedroom, he was preparing to issue a warning when the children giggled past him, stripped to their underwear.
The three scattered for their bedrooms. Flint couldn't suppress a chuckle. For some reason, his kids thought underwear was funny.
He found Robin in the laundry room by the back door, stuffing dirty clothes and towels into the washer. Four pairs of canvas shoes, freshly hosed off, sat drying in one corner.
"You've figured out how to keep them from tracking in dirt," he said. "Very clever."
Brushing aside a strand of blonde hair that had escaped its ponytail, Robin turned to meet his gaze. "Our garden will be unique." She closed the washer lid and pulled the knob to turn it on. "They've got radishes and onions mixed with the peas and broccoli. Caitlin claims she read somewhere that they'll serve as a natural pesticide. Aaron insisted we plant nasturtiums, which are edible flowers, and Brick wanted tomatoes, even in winter. I figured it couldn't hurt to try."
"Ever gardened before?" Flint asked.
"I grew a lemon tree in a barrel at the beach once," Robin said, "but people kept stealing the lemons."
He shouldn't stand here staring, but she was vibrant and gorgeous, even with a dirt-streaked face. Yesterday, Flint had driven north to Ventura, an hour and a half away, to bid on a contract, and hadn't returned until nearly ten p.m. Before that, on Sunday, Robin had taken her first day off.
Flint hadn't expected to miss her so much. The house had felt dull in her absence, and the children moped about.
They were growing attached to her, and she to them. Robin hadn't mentioned anything further about finding a teaching job.
Perhaps there were things she wasn't telling him. With a start, Flint realized that he'd come to expect that Robin would always speak her mind. Had she started holding back? Perhaps she had a new job prospect and didn’t care to mention it.
Watching her wash up in the laundry-room basin, he wondered why the idea bothered him so much. He was proud of the way he'd kept his distance this past week. Why shouldn't she hold back, as well?
"Got any special plans for today?" he asked.
"Not really." Robin groped for a towel and he walked over to hand it to her. At close range, the light fragrance of her shampoo mingled with an earthy tang left from gardening.
"What's for dinner?" Flint asked. He'd allowed Robin to choose the week's menu and given her a store gift card to shop for groceries on Saturday. However, so far he hadn't had a chance to evaluate her choices.
"Spaghetti," said Robin. "Whole-wheat rolls and salad."
"Always a safe choice."
She nodded. Damn it, he couldn't even get a simple conversation going.
"What are we eating tomorrow night?" Flint asked.
Robin pulled the rubber band from her hair and regarded herself in a mirror over the sink. "Burritos and corn on the cob."
"Are burritos
one of your specialties?" He could draw her out if he kept at it long enough.
"I found it in your recipe box. Caitlin suggested it."
Robin opened a utility drawer and took out scissors. She proceeded to trim her bangs into the sink.
She must have made up her mind to play the game according to his rules. Like a good nanny, she was avoiding intimate contact. It made perfect sense.
For the first time in his life, Flint didn't like something that made perfect sense.
"I'll be home for dinner," he said. "The council study session should be over at a reasonable hour."
"I'll make plenty of spaghetti." Snip, snip. Tiny bits of hair freckled her nose.
Flint went out. He called goodbye to the children, but it sounded as if the boys were taking a bath together. These days, Caitlin preferred to shower alone.
By habit, he paused before the picture of Kathy and the babies. Although Flint stood behind her in the photograph, his figure seemed shadowy by comparison. She had glowed so brightly.
A soft noise made him look up as Robin entered from the laundry room. When she saw him, sadness shadowed her eyes. She gave him a sympathetic smile and moved to the kitchen.
Flint picked up his briefcase and headed to work with the sense of having left business unfinished.
Chapter Nine
So far, her plan was working, Robin reflected as she changed from her gardening clothes into clean shorts and a T-shirt.
She'd decided last week to focus on the children. If Flint preferred no further closeness, that suited her fine. She would be a good nanny and stick with this job as long as necessary.
By then, she’d have won Flint's respect. When she left, she would tell him the truth, and there was a slight chance he'd agree to allow continuing contact with the children.
After leaving, she hoped to function as a doting aunt. She'd be someone the kids could bring their problems to, a safety valve for their growing pains. Still, she'd felt rather heartless today, returning only the briefest of responses while Flint plied her with questions. She knew the man had a heart beneath all that muscle and bone, even if he kept it locked away, and he must get lonely.
Maybe eventually he'd find a woman who could live with his personality flaws and his undying devotion to his late wife. With Robin close by to help the children, everyone should be satisfied.
Sure. And maybe pigs could fly.
She checked the copy of the schedule she'd posted on her bedroom wall. Ten to eleven, bike riding. Well, the hour was half gone, but Flint hadn't objected. By the time the kids finished washing, they'd be ready for eleven o'clock chores.
Robin intended to have them clean their rooms, which were dense jumbles of toys and books. Then they’d help fix lunch.
Why did Flint have to make things so cut and dried? She was always having to bend the schedule here and there simply to allow the children to lead normal lives. She supposed she was lucky he hadn't installed a school bell to blare out the changing of the hours.
And imagine his nerve, quizzing her about the menu! What did he think she'd planned, hot dogs and canned chili every night? Okay, she'd been tempted. But she'd resisted.
It occurred to Robin as she brushed her hair that the children's birthdays were coming up at the end of the week. Flint hadn't mentioned a party. She'd have to ask him how he wanted to celebrate the event.
It would be the first birthday Robin would spend with her children. Her throat tightened as she contemplated the significance. Still, she’d better not reveal to Flint that the day held any special meaning for her.
The rest of the morning passed smoothly. Excited about the garden, the children didn't bother to torment each other. They helped fix sandwiches and whooped with joy when Robin proposed a picnic on the front lawn.
By the time they finished the cut-up vegetables, it seemed like half the neighborhood had dropped by. The triplets knew almost everyone and advised Robin on which youngsters they liked and which were too rowdy.
To Robin's delight, one older lady from down the block brought them Chinese pastries she'd purchased while visiting relatives in Taiwan. "These are very special," she advised, sitting beside Robin on a blanket. "The bakery that makes them, there's nothing like it in this country." The children took tentative nibbles; then downed the baked goods as if they were starving. Robin thanked their visitor, whose name was May Sung.
"I've bought pastries in Chinatown, in L.A., but they were never as good as this," Robin said. "How kind of you to share them."
"I always see the triplets out riding their bikes, but I never see their mother," May explained. "l am pleased to meet you."
"Oh, I'm just the nanny," Robin said.
The older woman slanted her a knowing look. "Only the nanny? I don't think so."
"Do you have the second sight?" asked Caitlin, who’d been listening intently. "Robin's mother is a psychic. She tells fortunes."
"What's the second sight?" said Aaron.
"It means she wears glasses," Brick retorted smugly.
"She doesn't wear glasses," Aaron pointed out.
"Second sight means that people can see beyond, to another dimension," said May. "Your mother is a psychic?"
"She thinks she is." Robin sighed.
"What can she see? Ghosts?" asked Aaron. "Do they exist?"
"Don't you know?" taunted Brick. "I thought you were the expert on that stuff." Aaron, the bookworm of the three, was currently reading a science fiction novel entitled I Left My Sneakers in Dimension X.
"Now, boys," Robin warned. "We don't want any bad marks today, do we?"
Three heads shook in the negative. They’d grown to hate bad marks.
"Who's that?" Brick pointed toward the street.
A station wagon painted pink with lavender trim halted in front of the house. A door flew open and out hopped Gigi. She pulled some signs from the back and dropped them facedown on the lawn.
"Bye, Irma! Thanks!" she called, and the station wagon pulled away.
How like Irma to buy the world's most conventional car and paint it pink, Robin thought. It was kind of her to give Gigi a ride. Robin's mother didn't own a car and was usually stuck riding the overcrowded buses at the beach. But what was Gigi doing here?
Robin had asked her not to meddle in Flint's affairs. She didn't care to argue in front of the children, so she held her peace. No doubt Gigi would reveal her agenda soon enough.
"Hi, Mom." Robin gave her a hug as the children called happy greetings. "We were just talking about you."
"I knew it!" Gigi beamed. "I could feel it." She plopped down next to May, and Robin introduced them.
"You are a very unusual woman," May said. Gigi regarded her with the glee of a spider discovering a fly in its web.
Robin remembered that her mother was on a quest to discover Frederick's lost lover. About to insist that Gigi leave the neighbor in peace, Robin halted as she remembered Frederick's face in the mirror.
She could almost swear the apparition had been a hunger-induced hallucination. But she remembered the pleading in his eyes with startling clarity.
As the children listened with interest, Gigi said, "So you're from where? Hong Kong?"
"Taiwan," said May.
“How long have you lived around here?”
"You are very curious about me. Is there something particular you want to know?"
"My mother believes she's contacted the ghost of a man who’s seeking his former girlfriend," Robin explained.
"Is this man Chinese?" asked May. When Gigi shook her head, the neighbor said, "All my old boyfriends are Chinese."
"It’s important that we find her,” Gigi said. “She's in danger."
The children leaned forward. "What kind of danger?" asked Aaron.
"Mom, what’s this about?" Robin demanded. There'd been no mention of danger when she visited her mother on Sunday.
"We had a séance last night." Gigi’s forehead furrowed. "Frederick was distraught. He said he must find t
his woman because of the danger. Irma was so jealous I thought she'd burst. Mortimer never brought her anything as intriguing as this."
For the next half hour, Gigi explained to her rapt audience about spirit guides and the informal contest between her and her best friend to make the most impressive contacts.
Finally May had to leave. "I am happy to meet your mother," she told Robin. "Someday I will come to her shop."
“I'd like that very much," Gigi replied.
It was almost two o'clock. The children had missed workbook time, and Flint was sure to check.
When she explained to Gigi, her mother volunteered to help. They spent the next fifteen minutes supervising the children's rapid scribbling, then sent them to change for gym class. For today, they’d miss their reading session, but meeting a lady from Taiwan had been educational.
“Why are you here, Mom?” Robin asked when they were alone in the living room. The off-white decor accented with blue showed no traces of fingerprints or dents in the furniture, testimony to the fact that it was off-limits to the children. Robin hardly ever came in here, but the light streaming through the front window had a mellow cast that attracted her.
She had the feeling Kathy had been saving this room for when the children were older. She felt a sharp sympathy for the woman who had planned and worked so hard and enjoyed so little benefit from it.
I'll keep everything safe for her, Robin thought. Except Flint. He'll have to keep himself safe.
"You're going to City Hall, aren’t you?” Gigi responded. “That suits me perfectly."
"I suppose we can give you a ride." Then Robin remembered that Flint was addressing the City Council's study session. "You're not going to protest, are you?"
"They're trying to ruin my store,” her mother said. " Honestly, the sign and the facade are practically made of cardboard. Even if they did fall, they wouldn't hurt a fly.”
"Mom, that's kind of awkward, don't you think?" Robin hoped the children would take a long time changing. "I mean, you're marching against my employer."
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