One Season of Sunshine Page 6

  “No.”

  “Have you ever been delinquent on a bill?”

  Jane’s eyes widened. “I . . . maybe one or two through the years, but no, I am not delinquent.”

  “Do you speak Spanish or French? Any languages?”

  “No.”

  He paused, as if mulling it over. “I’ll be frank, Miss Aaron. Your credentials indicate you have the sort of background I am looking for. My kids need a strong presence and a firm hand. Are you that person?”

  Was she that person? Jane looked helplessly to Tara, who didn’t even blink; she was jotting something down on paper. “I’m sure I can do the job, Mr. Price,” Jane said.

  “Great,” he said. “Thank you. Tara, please pick up.”

  Tara picked up the phone. “Would you mind waiting outside?” she asked Jane.

  Jane nodded and walked out, her thoughts spinning. This job sounded like too much responsibility, and she wanted exactly the opposite. She wanted only a quiet place to live, a place where she could hang out while she did what she had to do in Cedar Springs. A strong presence? A firm hand? Was that her?

  The door swung open suddenly, startling Jane. “Well!” Tara said as she walked out with a big smile. “Thanks for talking with Mr. Price. Sorry we had to squeeze it in like that, but he’s so busy.”

  And curt, Jane thought. So far, she was not a fan.

  “He’d like me to show you the house.”

  Jane definitely wanted to see the house, if for no other reason than to tell her mother about it. “I’d love to,” she said and followed Tara down the hall again, past the enormous living area. In another hall, Tara paused in front of a huge picture. There was the family on horseback. Another photo of them sitting on a big rock somewhere. Mrs. Price with the two kids—one of them a baby, one a little girl. Mr. Price stood to her right. He was tall and trim, his build athletic, but without being overpowering. He had dark golden hair and a handsome smile. Mrs. Price was beautiful, with sleek black hair that Jane instantly envied.

  “This is Riley and Levi,” Tara said, indicating the boy and girl. “They’re older now. Levi is five and Riley is twelve. She’ll be thirteen next month.” Tara glanced at Jane and said low, “She could use some feminine guidance, you know? It must be awful to be without a mother.”

  “I can’t imagine,” Jane agreed.

  Tara moved on, taking Jane through another sitting area with huge windows and floral chintz furnishings. “Here is the kitchen,” she said.

  The kitchen had a Viking stove and granite countertops, of course, and opened onto a very large den. This room looked the most lived in. There was a toy truck on the floor. Someone had written Piano lesson Tuesday on a chalkboard that was attached to a wall between the kitchen and den. There were shoes behind the couch and a pile of books scattered near the hearth.

  “Let’s move upstairs,” Tara said, indicating a staircase. Upstairs, the family media room had theater-style seating. There was also a large playroom with chalkboard walls and built-in toy benches and a row of windows overlooking the pool. There were several bedrooms—Jane thought she counted eight in all—and every bedroom facing east had a balcony overlooking the lake.

  The house was perfect, everything pristine. But it seemed a little off to Jane. The house where she’d grown up was always cluttered with her and her brothers’ things. And Nicole’s house—as meticulous as Nicole was about a clean environment, there was always evidence that Sage was about in the shoes and toys and books that were scattered everywhere. There was none of that lived-in look here. This house looked more like a showcase than a home, and Jane wondered if perhaps the kids were actually living elsewhere at present.

  One other thing stood out to Jane: Mrs. Price was everywhere. There she was on a boat laughing at the camera. There she was with Mr. Price at a black-tie function. Again with a group of women dressed as expensively as she was. Mrs. Price was a beautiful woman with a brilliant, dazzling white smile and that beautiful mane of black hair. It was heartbreaking to think that the perfect family in the pictures had been torn apart by an automobile accident. How devastating it must have been for her children. And for Mr. Price.

  “Last but not least, the nanny quarters,” Tara said, leading Jane downstairs once again, using the back staircase. A middle-aged woman wearing an apron had appeared in the kitchen. She was a little butterball with graying hair and clear blue eyes and one of the kindest smiles Jane had ever seen.

  “Hello, Carla,” Tara said.

  “Well hello there, Tara!” the woman said cheerfully as she wiped her hands on her apron and smiled broadly. “I didn’t expect to see you back so soon. You may as well take one of the guest rooms as often as you come to Cedar Springs!”

  Tara smiled. “This is Jane Aaron. Jane, Carla Petrie. She keeps this house in tip-top shape.”

  “I do what I can,” Carla said, beaming. “Mrs. P liked a very clean house.”

  “It’s beautiful,” Jane said.

  “Well, aren’t you sweet,” Carla said warmly.

  Tara led Jane out of the kitchen and onto a breezeway, adjacent to the pool, that led to another door. Tara opened it and stepped aside. “Voila. The nanny quarters.”

  Jane stepped across the threshold and suppressed her gasp of delight. The quarters were at least as large as the small apartment Jane had looked at yesterday and definitely nicer.

  There was a small kitchen with a granite countertop and stainless appliances. It was separated from the living area by a limestone bar with bar stools covered in cowhide. Over the fireplace hung a flat-screen TV. The furnishings were leather, and through a pair of French doors, Jane could see what looked like a queen-sized bed and four posters.

  “This room obviously hasn’t been opened in a while,” Tara said, and opened another pair of French doors, revealing the pool just beyond. “Have a look around,” she urged Jane.

  “This is where the nanny is going to live?” Jane asked, her voice full of awe.

  “Yes. It’s a guesthouse. Private, but close to the kids. You should check out the bathroom,” Tara suggested, gesturing for Jane to go into the sleeping area.

  Jane wanted to swoon when she saw it. It was all tile and marble, with a glass shower and a deep-jetted tub. She walked back to the doors opened to overlook the pool and the stunning view of Lake Del Lago beyond.

  “So what do you think?” Tara asked.

  “I think it’s beautiful,” Jane said. “All of it.” She looked at Tara. “It’s an amazing house, Tara, but I have to be honest. I’m not really a nanny. I’ve never been responsible for someone else’s kids, and I don’t plan on being in Cedar Springs very long. Maybe a couple of months at most. I’d think Mr. Price would want someone with more experience and a little more permanent.”

  Tara didn’t seem remotely fazed by Jane’s words. “Mr. Price has had a very difficult time finding someone with enough maturity and skills to be with his kids. Right now, he is interviewing people who can meet his needs at least for the summer until a more permanent solution can be found.”

  “Ah,” Jane said.

  Tara shifted closer. “Can you tell me if you are at least interested in the position?”

  Jane looked at the pool and the guesthouse. She needed a job, and she wasn’t stupid. This setting was hard to pass up. “I am interested,” she said carefully. “But I need some flexibility to work on my thesis. I don’t want to work weekends, and I’d also like to have Tuesday and Thursday afternoons after three. And I’d like to meet the kids before I say more.”

  Tara looked at her watch. “They’ll be home from school in a half hour, if you care to wait.” She gestured to the door. “Let’s go back to the house and talk a little bit more about the job.”

  “Okay,” Jane said. “Just out of curiosity, how many candidates is he interviewing?”

  Tara opened the door leading onto the breezeway. “As of today, just one.”

  5

  Jane took the job because she needed it and becaus
e she felt bad for the kids who had lost their mother and were left with such a rude, curt, absent father. She had not wanted to begin the job before Mr. Price had come back from Germany, but Carla left promptly at five every afternoon, and Tara had explained there would be a generous bonus if Jane could see her way to starting by the first of the following week.

  Jane thought she could handle it after meeting the kids a couple of times. Levi was adorable. He was five years old with black hair and big blue eyes. His sister Riley was less adorable. She was a pretty girl with her mother’s blue eyes, and her father’s golden hair, but she was at an awkward age. The last time Jane had seen her, Riley had been wearing pencil-thin jeans that had made her legs look even skinnier than they were, and a black T-shirt with a mystic symbol on the chest.

  She was quiet, eyed Jane warily, and Jane noticed that she tended to stand off by herself, moving back when someone moved toward her, like a pool toy bobbing just beyond one’s reach. Riley had said more than once in Jane’s presence—actually, it seemed like a dozen times—that they didn’t need a nanny. Jane couldn’t blame her for that. What kid wanted a nanny instead of a parent?

  Nevertheless, Jane thought she could handle it.

  Jonathan showed up that Sunday with her things and helped her move into the guesthouse on Monday. “Wow,” he said. “This place is sick.”

  “Yes, it’s unreal,” Jane agreed, looking around.

  Jonathan leaned back against the door of the guesthouse, his arms folded. “So you’re sure you want to do this whole Mary Poppins thing, Janey?”

  “No,” she said, smiling sheepishly. “But it’s the best thing going in Cedar Springs, and I need a job if I am going to be here. I’d eat through my savings in a month without it.”

  He pressed his lips together. “Okay,” he said. He looked at Jane again, his eyes searching hers. He always looked at her like that now, a bit hopeful, a bit angry. “I guess this is it, then, huh? Where we take the totally clichéd break?”

  “It’s just a summer.”

  “Just a summer,” he repeated. “You and I have both been around long enough to know that summers sometimes turn into winters, and winters turn into years.”

  “Jonathan—”

  “No, don’t,” he said, throwing up a hand. “Please don’t try and explain again. It never sounds any better.” He pushed away from the door. “I need to get on the road. I have to work tomorrow.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m going to miss seeing you.”

  “Me, too,” she said softly and moved to him, slipping her arms around his waist, laying her head on his shoulder.

  Jonathan stroked her hair. “Remember the time we went rollerblading?”

  Jane snorted. “Yes.”

  “I bet you fell twenty times. But you kept getting back up and tried and tried again, and you never once complained.”

  “I was complaining in my head. I couldn’t walk for a week.”

  Jonathan chuckled. “I fell in love with you that day.”

  Jane sighed sadly and looked up at him. “It’s just a summer, Jonathan.”

  He looked dubious and kissed her softly. “Call me,” he said and slipped out the door.

  Jane watched him go. She had a half hour before she began her job, right at five when Carla left for the day. She lay down on the eight-hundred-thread-count Egyptian cotton bedspread and stared up at the beamed ceiling, remembering how Jonathan would sit on a chair in her apartment with his guitar, creating a new song. He would grin and grab her hand as she walked by, pulling her back, kissing her knuckles, then her wrist.

  That was the thing—she’d never grabbed his hand and kissed it. She’d never feared that he was someone who would escape her, that she had to hold on to.

  Tears blurred her vision, and Jane sat up, wiping her eyes. She moved to stand up and noticed a drawing on the wall beside her. It was a mother and child in abstract. Jane already knew Susanna Price’s distinctive signature as the artist. The drawing made her feel weird, particularly given her reason for being in Cedar Springs. She stood up, removed the drawing from the wall, and put it on a shelf in the closet before she went to change.

  In the kitchen, Carla had her handbag and a green grocery bag on the counter, ready to go. “Are you all moved in?” she asked cheerfully as she thrust her hand into her handbag and dug around for her keys.

  “Yep. Jonathan is on his way back to Houston.”

  “He seems really nice,” Carla said. “And he’s cute, too.” Jane nodded, blushing a little. “Okay, the kids are up watching a movie and there is dinner in the warming oven,” she said, pointing to one of three ovens. “I thought on your first night you ought to have something fun, so I made you a pizza. Reheat it at three-fifty for about fifteen minutes and you should be good. Did Tara tell you how to use the monitoring system?” she asked, referring to the elaborate intercom and monitoring system built into the house.

  “She did.”

  “Make sure you have that on at all times,” Carla warned her. “Levi has been known to sleepwalk.” She smiled fondly. “He thinks there are ghosts in the attic.”

  Jane smiled. “Have you worked here long, Carla?”

  “Seven years!” she announced proudly and slung her black bag over her shoulder. “Okay, Jane! You call me at home if you need me. I’m probably easier to get hold of than anyone else if something comes up. Good luck!” she said cheerily and waved as she went out.

  Jane sincerely hoped she wouldn’t need to get hold of anyone.

  She went in search of her charges, up to the second floor and the media room. The volume of whatever the kids were watching was so loud that Jane could hear it through the soundproofing. She knocked once, realized that was futile given the volume, and opened the door a crack. The sounds of a high-speed car chase blasted her. She saw Riley’s honey blonde head just over the top of one of the theater chairs and walked into the room. “Hey, Riley!” she shouted over the din.

  Riley hardly glanced at her.

  “Could we turn that down?”

  Riley refused to acknowledge her, so Jane picked up the remote from the table beside Riley and turned the volume down to a reasonable level.

  “I was watching that,” Riley said.

  “You’re still watching it, but this way, you won’t go deaf before you graduate from high school. Where’s Levi?”

  “I don’t know,” Riley said with a shrug and slumped deeper down into the leather theater seating. “It’s your job to know. Not mine.”

  Okay, starting the new job with some good old-fashioned preteen attitude. “It is my job,” Jane agreed pleasantly, “but I don’t know where he is and I am asking for your help.”

  “I said, I don’t know,” she repeated, her blue eyes cold. “I’m not the nanny.”

  “No. No, you’re not. That would be me. Tell you what—we’ll talk about how we are going to navigate our way through the next few weeks once I find your brother.”

  Riley sighed and turned her attention back to the TV. “He’s been shoveling dirt into the pool. I can’t believe you didn’t see him when you came out of the guesthouse.”

  Jane forgot what she was going to say. “Dirt?”

  Riley suddenly laughed. “This is so great! He’s been out there shoveling dirt and you didn’t even know it!”

  Fabulous. “I’ll be back,” Jane warned Riley, but she hadn’t even made it to the door before Riley had pumped up the volume again.

  Levi was indeed shoveling dirt into the pool. There was a very dark and very large circle on the grotto end of the pool where he was about to dump another bucket of dirt. From atop the grotto. “Levi!” Jane exclaimed, horrified. Startled, Levi turned and looked at her at the same moment he dumped the bucket of dirt into the pool.

  “Levi, no,” Jane said, hurrying forward and holding her hands out for the bucket. “Come down from there! What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to make mud pies,” he said. He tossed the plastic bucket to her. Jane caught
it easily, then caught his hand, pulling him down from the elaborate waterfall that flowed into the pool. Once she was assured the child would not plunge to a watery death, she looked at the pool, the bucket, and Levi’s lovely round face.

  He had dirt under his nose and another streak on one cheek. He was watching her with an expression of wishful expectancy, as if he believed she had the secret for hurrying his project along.

  “Levi . . . you can’t make mud in the pool,” Jane said, and his face fell. “It would take you a year to put enough dirt in the pool to get mud. If you want to make mud pies, we can do that in the garden. Just not in the pool. Okay?”

  “Do you have a garden?” he asked, confused.

  “No, your garden. Don’t you have a garden here?”

  He shook his head.

  Eureka. Jane smiled. “Oh wow, I thought all boys had a garden. Would you like one? You can plant things and dig a lot of holes.”

  “I want one,” Levi said, his eyes rounding.

  “Okay! We’ll get to work on that tomorrow.”

  “What about the dirt?” Levi asked, leaning over to peer into the deep end of the pool.

  “That is an excellent question,” Jane said. “We’ll think of something. In the meantime, let’s get you cleaned up.”

  “I’m hungry, too,” Levi said and broke into an odd, apelike dance. “Carla always gives me gummies.”

  “Really?” Jane said, gesturing toward the house.

  Levi threw his head back, squeezed his eyes shut, and smiled broadly. “Really,” he said, mimicking her. He then began to imitate an ape leaping across the decking toward the house. “Then I want some grapes!” he shouted and disappeared into the kitchen door.

  With Levi’s help, Jane found the stash of gummies and followed him, doing his ape walk, up to the media room. The volume once again blasted them when Jane opened the door. She didn’t bother to ask Riley this time; she just picked up the remote and turned down the volume.

  “Can we watch Phineas and Ferb?” Levi asked his sister.

  “No.” Riley looked at Levi. Both kids lunged for the remote at the same moment, but Riley was there first, which prompted Levi to hit his sister.