Chapter Three

DONNY PAID the taxi driver and hauled the shitload of bags he had with him out of the car. It took him two trips to get them from the sidewalk to the front door. He knocked on the door and then let himself in. “It’s only me. Donny.”

“Are you the nanny?” A tall, dark woman who looked just like Jeff met him at the door, grabbed one of his bags. “I sent Jeff to work early. He needed some time.”

“Yeah, I’m Donny. I had to get my clothes and stuff and pick up things for the kids.”

“I’m Jillian, Jeff’s sister. I’ll help. Robbie’s watching cartoons.” She hauled his stuff up the stairs into the huge private suite that Jeff had given him. It was beautifully decorated, expensive, and, like the rest of this huge house, totally not kid friendly.

“Cool. I can look after them on my own, though, you know.” Jeff hadn’t decided he couldn’t do the job, had he?

“I know, but he left about an hour ago. He just… well, he’s down. He needs some time with his menus and food costs.”

He’d bet Jeff was down. Not enough sleep, two little kids suddenly dumped in his lap, and his best friend dying. “It’s a terrible thing that happened. I’m glad he was here for the kids, though.”

He put his backpack and duffel in his room and then gathered up the rest of the bags. “I got a bunch of stuff to childproof the place. It’s pretty overwhelming, all the stuff you need to do to be ready for kids, and he didn’t have the usual nine-month warning most folks get.”

“No. No, he didn’t, and he should have had help, but that selfish fuck walked away.”

Donny frowned. “I’m sorry?” Their mother had died, right? What was he missing?

“Mitch. Sorry. I mean, you do know that Jeff is gay, right? Mitch didn’t last three days.”

“I did know he was gay, but I didn’t know he’d been in a relationship.” Christ, what a mess. Was it any wonder Jeff had looked strung out?

“Seven years. Seven years, they built this house together, and Beth dies holding Jeff’s hands, worrying about those babies, and then motherfucker says he doesn’t want the mess.” Jillian’s eyes were flashing. “I’m seriously considering castrating him.”

He nodded; this guy sounded like a real peach. “Once you have, you should give his nuts to Jeff so he can make a meal of them and feed it to the guy.”

Dark brown eyes—which were the one thing that was different from Jeff—met his, widened, and then she started to laugh. “I like you.”

He grinned. “Thanks. If you’re sticking around for a bit, I’ll go ahead and start with the childproofing.” He had locks for cupboards and drawers, the toilet and the fridge and stove, as well as childproof covers for the doors so if they closed them, they’d stay closed. Then there were the outlet covers, and he hoped Jeff didn’t mind, but some of the books and DVDs and stuff were going to have to move up a few shelves. He was surprised Robin hadn’t already destroyed stuff out of curiosity.

“I can stay all day. I took the day off at the firm. They’ve been very decent.”

“That’s great.” As long as it didn’t mean that Jeff and Jillian didn’t trust him with the kids.

“How about you look after the kids, then, while I get all the childproofing done, then we can look at what all else the kids might need. I picked up a few toys and a bunch of books for Robin, but if they need more clothes or anything, it should be easy enough to figure out.”

“Uh, sure. Except that I don’t have kids, and I have no idea. None.”

“Okay, I can check out what else they need.” He tried not to laugh, but it looked like Jeff and his sister were both entirely not equipped for kids.

She shrugged, winked. “We grew up in restaurants. Our families were busboys and chefs and maître ’ds.”

“Well, I bet that means you know the pots and pans and wooden spoons drum kit very well.” Invented toys were often a bigger hit than store-bought ones.

“I do remember that, yes.”

Robin started hollering. “Jellybean!”

“Coming, Robbie!” She grinned. “I’m going to beat Jeff’s butt for teaching them that old nickname.”

Donny laughed and shook his head. It was going to stick, too.

He got to work on the childproofing while Jillian occupied Robin. He started with Robin’s room first, putting the covers on the outlets and checking to see if the chest of drawers was bolted to the wall. It wasn’t, and he made a note of that; he’d bet there was more than one dresser or bookshelf that was going to need that treatment.

Then he moved on to the kitchen, figuring it was probably the room with the most potential for tragedy.

He had to admit that Jeff’s house was stunning—four bedrooms, three-and-a-half baths. A swimming pool in the…. Oh God. There was a lot to do.

He didn’t even have the stuff they’d need for the backyard. He’d have to find out when Jeff would be able to take him to the hardware store. For now, keeping the back door locked and putting the round bobble on the knob so Robin couldn’t open it would have to do. And he’d have to emphasize how the back door had to be kept locked, always.

He spent a couple of hours doing basics before Kimberley woke up.

“I’ve got her,” he called out to Jillian, heading for her room.

The wee girl had a set of lungs, little face bright red. Lord, she was mad!

“Hey, sweetie. I bet you’re wet and hungry.” He picked her up, putting her up against his shoulder and jiggling her. Her wail seemed to agree with him, and her tiny fingers clenched tightly in his shirt.

He put her on the changing table and would have made short work of her diaper except that things weren’t organized so it could all be reached while still holding a hand on her belly to keep her from rolling off.

He also discovered a distinct lack of anything but onesies in her drawers. They definitely needed to add clothes to the shopping list. Donny wondered when Jeff’s next day off was.

He managed to get her changed, then headed down to the kitchen to feed her. Robin was running in circles, hooting, holding his shirt in one hand.

“What’cha doing?” he asked casually.

“Bein’ a ind’an.”

“Oh yeah?” He went into the kitchen, Robin trailing him. “You want to help me get Kimberley’s bottle ready?”

“Yes! I get powder.” The dear boy grabbed a kitchen chair.

“Awesome.”

He tousled Robin’s hair. He was a good kid; they just had to make this transition as smooth as possible for him. In one way, Robin was lucky he was as young as he was—it would have been much harder on him if he’d been a little older.

They needed to get the boy a stepping stool—something safer than the kitchen chair—so he could help.

“What should we make for supper tonight?” He would find out what kind of foods Robin liked, what he was used to eating. He would have to ask Jeff if he wanted him to pick up the groceries or if it was something Jeff would do on his weekends.

“Peanut butter.” Robin grabbed the formula jar in his little hands.

“Oh, I like peanut butter sandwiches. You like them with honey and bananas?”

“Nanas! Nanas! I no like honey.”

“Ba-na-nas.” He said the word slowly for Robin.

“I love honey.” Jillian came in, hands open for Kimberley, who immediately started screaming. Jillian’s hands dropped, but she didn’t look particularly upset at the rebuff.

“Someone’s being fussy.” He jiggled her as he pulled out a bottle and gave it to Robin. “Two scoops, please.”

There was a little spillage—okay, a lot—but the look of pride on Robin’s face was worth it.

“Great job!” He filled the bottle with water and got the cap on, which enabled him to shake it one-handed.

Robin jumped off the chair and started running again, cheering. It would be great to be able to package that kind of energy. Smiling, he popped the bottle into Kimberley’s mouth.

Jillian looked at him, eyes rolling. “He’s very… energetic.”

“He’s three. It’s kind of a prerequisite.” At that age it was mostly go, go, go, then bam, tired, asleep.

“Yeah? I don’t remember Jeff at three. We’re only thirteen months apart.”

“Not surprising, then, as you were only four. It’s a good thing he has that energy. I’d be more worried about him if he was quiet and still all the time.”

“Yeah. I….” Her words trailed off as Robin bumped into the table and started to cry.

“Oops, did you bump your head?” The bigger of a deal you made, the bigger they made, so he kept calm. “Let me see.”

“Mommy kiss it!”

Jillian groaned.

“Could I kiss it better? I’ve got really good make-it-better kisses.” It broke his heart; kids shouldn’t lose their mom like that.

Robin burst into tears, threw himself on the floor. “No!”

“God, I’m sorry.” Jillian looked horrified. “Should I call Jeff?”

“Nope.” He knew how to deal with this. Besides, if they called Jeff every time there was a little bump in the road, the poor guy would never get any work done.

Donny crouched next to Robin. “I’m not going to talk about this when you’re behaving like that. When you’re ready to stop, you come see me.” He stood, bouncing Kimberley to keep her at the bottle.

Jillian stared at him, eyes comically wide.

“If you give in to the temper, that’s what he’ll fall back on.” Once Robin knew he was going to be consistent about this, that a temper tantrum was not going to get the boy what he wanted, Robin would stop trying it on. That didn’t mean it was easy to listen to Robin pitch his fit, but Donny knew it would be better in the long run.

“This is…. I can’t deal with this noise,” Jillian said. “How can you?”

“They’re kids, so they’re going to be noisy.” He gave her a wry smile. “You don’t have to stay. I’ve got it under control.”

“You sure? Because….” She looked panicked.

He patted her arm with his free hand. “I’m sure. Go on. We’ll be fine.” If she was going to freak out, the kids were going to pick up on it and follow her lead, and it would take that much longer for things to settle.

“Okay. Tell Jeff I said hey.” She disappeared like a puff of smoke, leaving him alone with the kids.

Okay. Okay, so now he could do his job without feeling like someone was looking over his shoulder; that was a good thing, right?

Kimberley started sucking on air, and he tugged out the bottle and put her over his shoulder to burp her.

Come on, Robin, he thought, let it go and come get your make-it-better kiss.

It did happen, after about five more minutes—the little boy ran to him and clung to his leg. “Want Daddy.”

“I know, Robin. He’ll be home late tonight, and you can see him in the morning, okay?” This poor kid needed some stability, a schedule. And the same people in his life on a daily basis.

Kimberley was half-asleep, so he put her in the little bouncy seat he’d bought, placed it in the middle of the kitchen table, and sat and pulled Robin into his lap.

“Your daddy has to go to work, but I’m going to be staying here with you now to help out, okay? We’ll be able to do all sorts of things together.”

Robin sniffled softly, held him.

“My name’s Donny. Did you know that?” He knew he’d told Robin his name a couple of times yesterday, but that didn’t mean Robin remembered.

Robin shook his head.

“Well, it is. And I’m staying here. I have a room upstairs next to yours.”

He rubbed Robin’s head, surreptitiously confirming that there was only a little bump—the skin hadn’t been broken by the collision with the table.

“Momma coming too?”

“No, sweetie. I’m sorry, but your momma had to go, and she isn’t coming back. She loves you very much, though, and she gave you to Daddy Jeff to take care of for her.” There was no way for this little boy to understand this. No way at all. It was going to come up again, and he was just going to have to be calm and help Robin through it.

“Doctors take care for Momma.”

“They tried. And now she’s in heaven, and God is taking care of her.” He hugged Robin close.

“No.” Robin fought him for a second, then grabbed him and cried. Before Donny could worry, the boy was asleep. Boom.

Jesus, these kids needed structure.

That’s exactly what he’d give them. He’d talk to Jeff tomorrow and find out exactly when he would be home, so Donny could include that in a schedule.

It looked like he had a plan.