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Iris Page 3
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Tonight, the only item on her agenda was catching up on all the happenings on the lake. For years she could spend months without coming by to visit and all of a sudden, every time she turned around another of her cousins had fallen in love and turned the family dynamics on its ear. She wouldn’t be at all surprised if pretty soon there was a whole slew of next generation Harts to be corralled.
Grams strolled into the room, set a gravy boat down, then a dish of meatballs, and took her seat at the opposite end of the table from where the General always sat. “Everything all right, dear?”
“Oh, yes. Of course.” Reaching for the back of her chair, the warm strength of Eric’s hand brushed against hers. Both had gone to pull her seat out at the same time. The small static shock that sparked at the momentary connection had her drawing back.
Nonplussed by the contact, Eric continued to retract her seat for her, then when she remained rooted in place, waved her into the chair.
“Thank you.” It had been a while since the simple courtesy her grandfather and father had always shown the women in their lives had been bestowed on her.
With a quick smile and nod, Eric turned to peruse the remaining seats. Sarge, one of the retrievers, sauntered away from the General and nudged him until he almost fell into the seat beside Iris.
“I was just about to suggest you sit beside my granddaughter.” Her grandmother waved in his direction. “Gavin can sit beside you and Emily beside Iris.”
“Oh.” Iris popped up from her seat. “I can move down one.”
“Nonsense.” Her grandmother gestured for her to sit again. “Eric has had a long drive today. This way Emily is between you and me, and Poppy can get to know Gavin.”
Bless her cousin Poppy, she smiled at both kids and immediately tapped the seat beside her. “I love a chance to sit next to a handsome young man.”
Gavin blinked, studied her for a moment and then must have decided being called a handsome young man wasn’t too bad a thing as he crawled up into his seat and let Poppy splay the napkin across his lap.
On the other hand, Emily seemed to think twice between sitting in the seat her uncle had pulled out for her and staying close to her little brother. Slowly lowering herself into the chair, she kept her gaze fixed on Gavin.
“Here we are!” Lucy carried a large bowl of spaghetti in each hand, setting one down at either end of the table.
On her heels, Aunt Virginia followed with a massive salad bowl and a bright smile. The woman had worked long and hard hours at the funeral parlor ever since inheriting it from her husband and yet, she always had a smile. “I hope everyone is hungry. As usual, there’s enough food to feed an army.”
Lucy spun around. “Bread coming right up. Lily baked it.”
Eric sniffed the air like a thoroughbred pup, not sure when the woman had time to bake cannolis and bread. “My sainted grandmother couldn’t compete with this.”
Smothering a smile, Grams shook her head at him. “A touch of the blarney?”
“Nope. One hundred percent Italian. Mom’s side from Milan and Dad’s from a small town near Lake Como. Two families within spitting distance and they had to meet in Boston.”
“Isn’t that always the case,” the General chimed in.
“Certainly was for Keith and me.” Aunt Virginia reached for the butter, her gaze softening at the mention of her husband’s name. “Growing up in a small town like Lawford and we had to go all the way to Fordham University to fall in love with each other. All because of the most boring statistics class.”
“I suppose it’s a good thing it wasn’t an interesting class or you might have paid attention to the teacher instead of each other,” Grams teased, and Aunt Virginia swallowed a knowing smile.
“Sorry, lost track of time.” Lily rushed into the room with another platter of small rolls.
“Are we still going to taste the desserts?” Emily asked.
“Yes, ma’am.” Lily smiled at her then shifted her gaze to her cousin. “And I know which one you’re going to pick too.”
Iris harrumphed, then smothered a chuckle. There was more than one way to get Lily to double bake dessert.
“How long will you be staying with us, Mr. Johnson?” Grams asked.
“Eric, please.” His gaze shifted to his niece and nephew. “I’m not sure yet.”
The General glanced up at him. “You don’t need to return to work any time soon?”
“No sir.” Eric may have responded to her grandfather’s question, but his eyes tracked the bowl of pasta passed around on his end of the table, occasionally diverting to his niece’s plate and back.
The poor man was more than out of his element. If she was reading him correctly, he was debating what to do with the bowl when it finally came his way. The man was in serious need of a crash course in parenting. What the heck was their story?
She might as well lead the way here too. “Gavin, do you want to serve yourself or shall I?”
The plate dangled from Iris’s hand and Gavin studied it a long moment and then sputtered, “You.”
From the seat beside her she could feel Eric exhale with relief.
“You must have a nice boss to give you plenty of time to… adjust.” Grams barely glanced up from twirling pasta onto her fork.
Eric nodded. “I’m actually an independent contractor. I can take or turn down any offers of work I get. This seems a good time to lay low.”
“Yes. I can see why.” Grams nodded. “Exactly what do you do?”
“I work in the oil and gas industry.”
“Oh.” Grams’ brow furrowed in thought. “Is there much work for you around here?”
“Not exactly. I usually work on oil rigs.”
Iris watched the children. Neither seemed particularly interested in their uncle’s job description. The way they attacked their dinner, anyone would think they hadn’t eaten in years.
“Must be exciting work?” the General asked, a twinkle in his eyes.
“Certainly never boring.” Eric measured his niece’s progress on her meal. “I could be working one week in the North Sea and the next in the Gulf of Mexico.”
Grams frowned. “That doesn’t sound very practical for a family man.”
The color drained from Eric’s face and his gaze dragged from one child to the other. “No, ma’am. Not very.”
Not very. Iris followed his gaze and could almost feel the depth of pain in his eyes. What the heck was the whole story?
Chapter Four
The last thing Eric wanted at this moment was to leave what had become the safety of Hart House. Dinner had gone off without a hitch. By the grace of God, it turned out the kids’ favorite meal was on his short list of foods he could actually prepare. Especially if the recipe involved opening a can and heating its contents. He’d mastered grilled cheese sandwiches and canned tomato soup in college and tweaked it to perfection through the years by substituting brie or gruyere, depending on the contents of his fridge.
He’d tried coaxing Emily and Eric with pizza, hamburgers, and in desperation, his favorite boxed mac and cheese. None had worked; they’d barely picked at their meals, until tonight. Perhaps it hadn’t been the food but the person preparing it. Or the place. Or maybe the beautiful woman sitting beside them as they ate. Had Iris served him fried bugs in prune juice, he would have most likely cleaned his plate for one of her approving smiles. She’d yet to bestow one on him, and much to his surprise, he found himself very much wanting one. Beautiful women were not an anomaly for him. Since high school, he’d mastered the art of making a woman happy. No matter the age, remember the small stuff, ask them to dance, and it never hurts to bring flowers. Still, not since his first crush in junior high had he felt so out of his league. Then again, right now everything in his life from the children, to Iris, to getting up in the morning to face another day seemed out of his league. Oh, Adele.
After tonight, another thing he suspected was that cannoli would be the kids’ favorite dessert, and tha
nk heaven available in great abundance at just about any bakery within spitting distance of his place. Standing at either side of the children, Iris and Lily waited patiently as the entire table watched the two children devouring the first then second pastry.
How they’d had room for not one but two cannoli baffled Eric.
“Well?” Lily asked.
As usual, Gavin looked to his sister to take the lead. Emily, on the other hand, had looked thoughtfully skyward, pursing and smacking her lips, dragging the moment on.
For a few brief moments he’d understood what it felt like to be able to cut the tension in the room with a knife.
“I think,” Emily smiled, “I like them both. Maybe we could do this again tomorrow to decide?”
“Ha.” The General let out a loud burst of laughter. “Diplomat in the making. And a smart one at that.”
“Agreed.” Iris smiled at the little girl and dug into her own dessert.
Eric had to admit he could barely taste the difference. He wasn’t sure he could have picked a winner either.
“I think you’ve been playing longer than you let on.” The older man named Ralph, who if Eric had his introductions straight, was a neighbor, teasingly chided Gavin for jumping his men with double kings.
The two had been playing checkers while some locals and the General played a card game of Whist, and Mrs. Hart and Emily tinkered with paints on a canvas. He definitely did not want to leave the family porch and brave the night alone with the kids in the cabin.
“Found them.” Iris pulled the screen door open and let it slam shut behind her. “I knew there was no way Mom would throw out the classics.”
“Classics?” Eric asked.
“First chapter books. My sister and I would read these for hours. At least until I discovered Nancy Drew.” Iris let the pile land with a thud on an empty square table.
“Those are in the new library nook on the second floor.” Without looking up, Fiona Hart tipped her head toward the inside of the house. When no one responded, still focusing on the painting in front of her, the woman continued, “The Nancy Drew, dear.”
“Right.” Iris nodded then looked at her watch and turned to Eric, but said nothing.
He’d have to be an idiot not to realize what she wasn’t saying. He’d noticed over half an hour ago that he should be putting the kids to bed, but with Iris having wandered off and the children looking the most entertained and, well, normal that he’d seen them since picking them up at the airport, he didn’t have the heart to call an end to the day. Until now. “It’s getting late. We should hit the road.”
Two heads spun in his direction before sharp gazes turned downcast. Without protest, both children stood and walked in his direction. He’d have preferred argumentative attitudes to such downtrodden expressions.
When Gavin reached where Iris stood, he paused and looked up. “Are you still going to read to us?”
Iris reached out and tousled the boy’s curly hair. “You bet. One Berenstein Bears and then one of my favorites. Huckleberry Finn.”
He wouldn’t say that happiness overtook either of the children, but thanks to Iris they were making greater strides in hours than they had in days.
Hugging a pile of books to her chest, Iris led the way to the cabin with the red door. This time there were no complaints about door colors or cabins. Once inside, Emily hurried down the short hall.
“Go on,” Iris encouraged Gavin. “Follow your sister. Brush your teeth, then put on the pajamas we laid out for tonight.”
Gavin nodded and trotted off after Emily.
“How many children do you have?” Eric asked.
Shaking her head, Iris turned around to face him. “None. Pretty much anyone who has ever babysat would know how to put kids to bed, but as it so happens, I’m a nanny.”
At least he didn’t feel so stupid knowing less about childrearing than a professional childcare person. Though she was right. Most teenagers would probably be better with the children than he was, but it wasn’t his fault that parents frowned upon asking teenage boys to be in charge of keeping their children out of trouble. Though now that he thought about it, asking an adult bachelor wasn’t a much safer bet.
“All clean.” Emily came racing in front of Iris and flashed a large toothy grin.
So that was how it worked? Obviously Emily was already familiar with the routine but had failed to fill him in on it.
“Looks good.” Iris flashed that smile he was learning to like. A lot. “Get into your PJs and I’ll introduce you to Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn.”
Emily eagerly led the way, her brother only a step behind her, and Eric fell into step behind Iris. In no time she had both children snuggled under the covers and waved Eric in for a short bedtime prayer, a kiss on the cheek, and a wish that Adele were here instead of him
Seated in the rocker tucked into a corner of the room, Iris began reading from the hardcover classic while Eric watched, perched against the doorway. In no time, both little ones lost the battle with the weight of their eyelids.
Slipping a postcard into the pages to mark her place, Iris closed the tome and set it down on the side table. “Do they sleep through the night?”
“For the most part.”
“Good.” Iris brushed a lock of hair away from Gavin’s face and sucking in a deep breath, left the room. Waiting for the click of the door latching shut behind them, she folded her arms across her chest. “One question?”
Eric nodded.
“Are their parents coming home?”
He shook his head and she blew out a heavy sigh.
“I was afraid of that.” She pinched the bridge of her nose and seemed to be contemplating the next step in gaining world peace. Or how to turn a dunce like him into a competent parent.
Personally, he’d have gone with solving world peace as the easier problem.
“Do you cook?”
“Some.”
Another sigh escaped. “Cold cereal doesn’t count.”
“In that case, not so much. But I can make spaghetti.”
She bobbed her head. “Okay. I’ll tell Lucy that you’ll be joining us for breakfast tomorrow—”
“The website—”
“I know, but the cottages don’t include dinner either. She’ll be happy to feed the children. Lucy lives for the chance to fatten people up. I swear, she had more to do with Lily’s fabulous desserts than the school in Paris. Anyhow, after breakfast you should hit the One Stop. Pick up some staples. If you’d like I can give you a few fool-proof recipes for the kitchen challenged that will keep your niece and nephew from starving.”
He nodded again. “That would be nice. Thank you. I mean, I’m sure I could find some recipes on the internet but this would be better.” Besides, the kids already felt comfortable with her. And so did he. “Will you give me a list for the store?”
She looked from him to the closed bedroom door and back. “I’ll do you one better. After breakfast, while Lucy is putting the kids into another sugar coma, and Grams cons Emily into helping her sort paints or something, you and I will hit the store.”
“Thank you.” Based on the last few hours—days, actually—he had a feeling he would be saying that a lot. If he thought Hart House could be the answer he’d been looking for, the General’s granddaughter could be his salvation.
***
Funny, as much as Iris had rushed to escape the trappings of caring for someone else’s children, and as reluctant as she might have been to get involved with another pair of siblings, now standing outside the not-blue-door cabin, she was finding it hard to walk away. With every step, even knowing the children were soundly asleep, she couldn’t shake the need to turn back and stand over them. Like a newborn parent, she felt compelled to make sure they were still breathing. She didn’t have a clue what the story was behind this odd new family—and she was quite sure it was very new—but the depth of sadness in those two precious faces nearly broke her heart.
“How did it
go?” Pad and pencil in hand, Grams lifted her gaze to Iris.
The screen door slammed shut behind her and it took a few deep breaths of her Grams lilac lotion to soothe her soul and find the words. “They’re asleep.”
Ralph the neighbor, who was as much a part of this family since his retirement as any blood relative, played a card and picked up the trick. “Nasty shame that whole business.”
“Poor little ones,” Louise Franklin, the town crier, muttered softly, shaking her head. “You hear about this sort of thing all the time, but it really hits home when you see the loved ones left behind.”
Iris sank into the rocker beside her grandmother. “What exactly happened?”
“Skiing accident. In Chamonix.” The General shuffled the deck.
“France?” Iris asked
Her grandfather nodded. “I seem to remember his family owned a home there.”
“Yet they vacationed here before?” Iris knew that from her conversation with Emily, but most of the families she’d known who could afford both the time and money to ski in the French Alps, never mind own a home there, were not the sort to vacation at a family establishment on Lawford Mountain.
“Oh, yes.” Grams laid her sketchpad down and reached for a piece of Lily’s Mandel bread to dip in the hot chocolate beside her. “The children’s mother, Adele, was a lovely lady. She so loved coming back to nature. By the time they’d left, her husband had even come around to enjoying the simpler side of life.”
“Makes no sense to me why anybody would want to go all the way across the ocean to ski when we have perfectly good mountains right here.” Ralph sorted his cards.
Louise rolled her eyes. “I love this mountain just as much is you do, but who wouldn’t want to go to France?”
“Me, for one.” Ralph closed his cards. “I bid two.”
“I bid three, and you are not normal.” Louise looked more closely at her cards, shaking her head, then glanced back up. “So, is this nice young man related to the mother or the father?”