The Guests on South Battery (Tradd Street #5)(22)
“We’ve passed that point, Mellie, don’t you think?” His voice held a note of desperation. “The doorbell’s working again at least, so I’ll take that as a good sign,” he said optimistically.
Mrs. Houlihan, with the two puppies nipping at her heels, had already opened the door and was taking Jayne’s coat by the time we reached the foyer. Jayne hung back in the vestibule, looking smaller than I remembered, her face showing her uncertainty. She wore a pale blue sweater and neatly pressed navy pants, her only concession to fashion a pair of pearl earrings.
I handed Sarah to Jack, who easily balanced a child in each arm, then held out my hands to the visitor. “Jayne,” I said. “I hope you found us all right.”
She took my hands and nodded, looking around her with wide eyes. “I did, thank you. I didn’t realize . . . I mean, you said you’d inherited your house. I guess I just didn’t realize it was so . . .”
“Old?” I completed for her.
She have me a half grin. “Yeah. Something like that.”
Mrs. Houlihan picked up Porgy and Bess and retreated to the kitchen while General Lee made his grand entrance by strolling sedately from the drawing room. I watched with surprise as he sat at Jayne’s feet and licked the top of her shoe, something he never did with strangers. “Come in,” I said, pulling her forward. “As you can see, we have a pretty full house.”
As soon as she caught sight of the children, her entire demeanor changed from jittery awkwardness to what looked a lot like pure joy. “Oh, this must be JJ and Sarah.”
Before I could introduce her to Jack and the babies, JJ grinned and held his arms out to her. He was never shy around strangers—especially women—but this was the first time I’d seen him choose anyone over his father.
Jack looked as surprised as I was and quickly relinquished the little boy. Sarah, never one to be left out, reached for Jayne, too, and was soon happily ensconced in Jayne’s other arm.
“I guess they like you,” I said. “Come into the drawing room, where you can sit down. Their weight seems to double every five minutes.”
She sat down on the sofa I indicated, placing each child on a knee, and immediately began a slow bounce, not fast enough to jiggle plump cheeks, but just enough motion to keep them happy. Ignoring me, General Lee snuggled up against Jayne’s feet.
“This is my husband, Jack Trenholm,” I said after everyone was settled. I half expected Jack to desert me, too, and find an available corner of the couch near Jayne.
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” Jayne said, her earlier nervousness replaced with a sure confidence that I found promising.
“It’s good to meet you, too.” A small frown furrowed his brow. “You look vaguely familiar. Have we met before?”
She smiled patiently. “No. I just have one of those faces, so I get that all the time.”
He nodded, but I could tell he wasn’t completely convinced. “Must be. So.” He clamped his hands over his kneecaps in what I’d come to recognize as his serious stance. “You’re a professional nanny looking for a job.”
“Yes, I am. I’m new to Charleston and I would like to continue with being a nanny. It’s something I really like, and it’s something I’m good at. I’ve always enjoyed the company of children—of all ages.”
“And you had a lot of practice growing up in foster care.”
I shot him a warning glance, wondering why he’d chosen to bring up her childhood. We’d already gone over the questions we were going to ask, as well as topics to be covered. Her childhood wasn’t one of them.
“That’s correct. I made the choice to find a way to be happy in what could have been very unhappy circumstances. Besides taking care of the physical needs of my charges, I try to instill that philosophy in them. That there’s always a way to look past the bad to see the good.”
“That’s very optimistic of you.”
Her cheeks flushed, and I noticed for the first time how pretty she was.
Jack nodded. “You have some very glowing references from previous employers. Very impressive. But we have a few questions that weren’t covered.” He cleared his voice and I had the distinct impression that he was deliberately avoiding my gaze. “How do you feel about lists and schedules in terms of child-raising?”
I sat up, not having anticipated this question.
“They’re very effective,” Jayne said.
I sent Jack a smug smile.
“When they make sense,” Jayne continued. “If it’s nap time, but the children are engrossed in a book, or a puzzle, or studying butterflies in the garden—really, anything that absorbs their little minds—it makes sense to adjust the schedule. They’ll be ready to give their minds a rest and sleep better if I let them play a little longer.”
“But—” I started.
“What about clothing? What is your theory on dressing small children?”
Jayne smiled warmly at the toddlers on her knees, their dark heads resting contentedly against her chest. “Sarah and JJ look adorable—I especially love JJ’s high-tops. Their outfits today are certainly appropriate for parties, or church, or any special occasion. Of course I will defer to the children’s parents, but my own philosophy is clothing that is comfortable and stretchy—and easy to get in and out of. Not to mention cleans up well.”