Phyllis Halldorson - Professor And The Nanny

“Yes, well whatever,” she said, “Nate needs to eat. I noticed you have an assortment of TV dinners in the freezer. Is it okay if I heat some of those in the microwave?”

“I’d appreciate it very much,” Ethan answered. “I like roast beef. What will you have, Nate?”

“Fried chicken,” Nate said, but before Brittany could protest that deep-fried chicken was filled with fat, Nate continued. “It’s a brand especially made for people with dietary restrictions. My doctor has approved it.”

She was happy to hear that. “Okay, then, and what does Danny eat?”

“I’ll feed him,” Ethan said, “while you fix dinner and take care of Dad. There’s plenty in the freezer. Take whatever you want for yourself.”

“Fine,” she said, and looked at Nate. “You stay right there and don’t try to get up. It won’t take but a few minutes to microwave your frozen chicken. Do you still have black spots in front of your eyes?

He shook his head. “No, that candy did the trick. My hands aren’t shaking, either.”

For the next few hours Ethan and Brittany worked unceasingly. Ethan fed Danny, then put away the baby furnishings he needed and carried all the things he had duplicates of, such as high chairs and cribs, down to the basement. Brittany fixed the TV dinners for the three adults and kept an eye on both Nate and his little grandson.

At seven-thirty she caught up with Danny and gave him a bath. He splashed happily in the tub, getting her almost as wet as he was. She rummaged through the chest of drawers in the nursery upstairs and found a pair of pajamas with cartoon characters printed on them. She put them on him and sat down with him in the handmade chair that Ethan told her had rocked several generations of Thorpe babies to sleep.

For a few moments Danny tried to get away from her and play on the floor, but she held on to him firmly and started to sing lullabies as she rocked. In no time he relaxed, put his thumb in his mouth and nestled against her.

Brittany hadn’t had much experience with infants and toddlers. She’d done a fair amount of baby-sitting in high school, but her charges had been mostly older children. This little one was pure joy. His skin was so soft, his hair still tousled, and he smelled of soap and baby powder.

She was still humming when she heard a soft sound somewhere between a gasp and a sigh and looked up. There, leaning against the doorjamb, stood Ethan. There were lines of fatigue at the corners of his eyes and mouth and he looked exhausted.

Their gazes locked and clung and wouldn’t be torn apart, but it wasn’t the magnetism that held her entranced. It was the raw hunger that seemed to look out of his very soul as he watched her cuddle his child.

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