Sunday's weather was as miserable as Saturday's. Since we'd already done the museum thing, and I was wiped, I figured we'd make cookies, American style. That may have been a poor choice.
"Look what you did."
"No, you did it! I'm telling."
"No, I'm telling."
"Reece. Riley. Front and center!" There I went again, channeling my dad. At least it worked. The two boys drew themselves up straight and puffed out their chests. "Reece, dustpan. Riley, broom. Snap to it." They scampered off to find the required cleaning gear while I carefully picked up the bag and what was left of the clean flour.
"What on earth is going on in here?"
I glanced up to find Bella standing in the doorway, a look of horror on her face. She was dressed like she was going to afternoon tea or something in a blue velvet wrap dress and a pair of black stilettos. Her blonde hair was carefully coiffed, and she was wearing honest-to-God pearls. All she needed was a Donna Reed apron.
"The boys and I were making cookies."
"Cookies?" She frowned, a line appearing between her eyebrows.
"Um…." I searched for the British word. "Biscuits." Thank goodness for research.
"Right. And this?" She waved at the disaster that was the kitchen.
"We had a bit of a problem with the flour."
"So I can see," Bella said tightly. "You do realize I have people coming over in"—she checked her watch—"ten minutes."
"Er, no. I didn't." I wondered if she expected me to mind-read or what.
"It's on the calendar." She thrust a forefinger in the direction of the fridge. Oh, right. The calendar. She'd mentioned it, but I'd been so jetlagged, it hadn't sunk in.
"Sorry. I forgot. Don't worry. We're almost done anyway. I'll get this cleaned up."
"See that you do." The doorbell chimed, and she closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingers. "They're early."
"Anything I can do?"
"Just keep the twins out of sight and get this place picked up."
I nodded, but she was already headed toward the front door, her heels clicking sharply against the floorboards. I heard the murmur of voices as she opened the door. A quick peek at the calendar, and I saw she'd marked "book club" on it in bright red. Since I had no idea book club meant people showing up at her house, reading the calendar earlier wouldn't have helped me.
The boys charged back in, armed with broom and dustpan. A quick clean up, and we were ready to finish making the cookies. The rest of the baking process went fairly smoothly, interrupted only by Bella's trip into the kitchen for tea and a bottle of wine.
She said nothing, and neither did the boys and I. Once the cookies were in the oven, we put things away, and then I sat them at the island with crayons and blank paper and told them to draw their adventure with the dinosaurs.
They were halfway into that when the buzzer rang, alerting us to the cookies. As if the scent permeating the air wasn't enough.
I opened the oven door. Perfectly done.
"I want to help."
"No, I want to!"
They bounced around me, so excited they ended up tripping me. I went down face first, the cookie tray held in front of me like an offering. I hit the floor first, the metal tray close behind, smashing into the tile with a loud crash. The boys shrieked and ran around the kitchen like the house was on fire. I lay there blinking, trying desperately not to let the litany of swear words running through my brain escape my mouth.
"What the hell is going on?" I recognized Bella's voice instantly.
"This is the nanny? Did you check those references, Bella?" a cool, snide voice spoke up. I stared through the hair that had fallen over my face. Tamzin. Wonderful. Not only had I embarrassed myself in front of my new boss but Evander's girlfriend, too. And about half a dozen other ladies who were trying to peer into the kitchen.
"Sorry," I mumbled, climbing to my feet, wincing as my bashed knee gave a vicious throb. "Just tripped. It's fine. We're almost finished in here."
They boys were still dancing around excitedly. Bella looked like she was going to have an apoplexy.
"Reece. Riley." I winced as I put my full weight down on my leg. "Why don't you take your crayons and paper upstairs, and I'll bring up fresh cookies in a minute."
With cheers of delight, the boys dashed upstairs, leaving me with broken cookies, a pissed off Bella, and a bunch of society snobs. That wasn't fair. They could be perfectly nice ladies, other than looking down their noses at me. Except Tamzin. She really was a pain in the ass.
"Anna…." Bella began. I could tell by her tone she was going to crucify me. With my luck she'd fire me and stick me on the first plane back to Portland.
"Aunt Bella! Aunt Bella!" The twins rushed back into the kitchen. "We made you these!" They thrust paper at her, interrupting whatever she was going to say. The snooty women behind her tittered, but she ignored them, staring down at the papers clutched in her hands.
She swallowed hard. Was she tearing up? Then she knelt and hugged the boys, the first real physical contact I'd seen her give her nephews. "Thank you. Now you go up and do as Anna says."
"Yes, Aunt Bella," they said in unison. They scampered up the stairs. I heard the thuds of their footsteps overhead.
Bella cleared her throat. "I'll hang these up later. Finish washing up. I don't want Viola having a meltdown tomorrow." She turned sharply on her heel and strode from the kitchen, the book club women on her trail.
I glanced at the papers lying on the island. They were both pretty much the same thing but in different colors and styles. A blonde stick figure woman wearing a blue dress with a little stick figure boy on either side of her. Scrawled across each sheet were the words "I LOVE
