Page 15 of 7+Us Makes Nine

But something inside of me didn’t want her to be angry.

“I understand the need for privacy,” I said.

“I’m glad,” Catherine said.

“And I want you to know that not everything that goes on within the walls of my home will be public information. In fact, I try to keep a good lid on the privacy of my home life. Especially with regard to my children. No matter what happens to my ex-wife on the television screen.”

“That’s good to know. But if it makes you feel any better, I don’t do the whole technology thing much. I don’t turn on a television if I can help it.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone like that,” I said.

“Then this will really blow your mind.”

I watched her reach into her

purse before she pulled out a hunk of plastic. She held it up in her hand and wiggled it around and I couldn't hardly believe my eyes.

“They still make those things?” I asked.

“If you can believe it. A simple prepaid cell phone. I hardly use it as well, to be honest.”

“You have a flip phone.”

“I do, Jace. It defines the utter hatred I have for technology.”

“Can I ask why you don’t like technology?”

She sighed heavily, and I got the strict impression that all of these personal questions were somehow intertwined into one or two very sordid details of her inner world. But I had no idea how experiencing a first-class background, being fired, and a flip phone were interconnected.

It made me want to hire her simply to figure it out.

“Nevermind,” I said. “You have the job.”

“Wait, really?” Catherine asked.

“Really. First and foremost, I want someone who will be passionate about my children. I’ll also need someone who can move in as soon as possible. I also want someone who’s qualified. You fit those three requirements. When can you start?”

Six

Catherine

For the first week of my job, I stayed in the background. It gave me time to move my things in and sell the rest off. Most of the furniture I had in my townhome I didn’t want to take with me anyway. It was furniture I’d hauled off the street and cleaned up or furniture off those barter-and-sell websites that needed to be bleached before being used. Jace fronted the money I needed to break my lease, pay my landlord, and get a moving van for my stuff. I spent the first week of my job introducing myself to the children and setting up the room and bathroom I would be staying in.

And ‘humongous’ was an understatement for the room.

The bedroom was already equipped with a king-size bed. The satin sheets were luxurious and there were built-in bookcases that lined the walls for my use. Which was good, because I had a lot of books. That was my entertainment. Losing myself in the world of books. I had gardening books and crocheting books. Romance novels and mystery thrillers. I had books from college on child development and psychology books from my elective courses.

And the bathroom.

Oh, I would be spending a lot of time in that bathroom.

The bathroom counter was a beautiful marble and the walk-in shower had misters to turn the entire thing into a steam room. There was a jetted tub in the corner near a window that looked out into the backyard. A beautiful view of the rolling hills and the patches of grass that looked like failed gardens.

That would be my passion project for his home.

Tending to those gardens and growing them into something the children could help me with.

I took care of the cooking and cleaning while Miss Gertrude spent her last two weeks with the children. She’d been their nanny for years, and I knew they were going to miss her. In my spare time, I read up on children and grief. How to help them transition from one major change to the next. I never approached them the first week unless they specifically asked for me, and when they did ask for me I made sure to listen to whatever they had to say.

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