Leanne Banks - A Princess Under The Mistletoe

The baby stared at her suspiciously, but allowed Sara to hold her. “Come along, Sam. We’re going to have juice and cookies. Give your father a big hug so he can have a good day at work. We all have our jobs to do. I’ll need your help with Adelaide.”

Gavin hugged Sam then grabbed a computer bag and headed for the door. “Call if you need anything.”

“We’ll be fine. Have a good day,” she called, feeling a bit like the magical nannies she’d watched in old movies while she was growing up. She could do this, she told herself. Children were so sweet.

Suddenly Sara felt Adelaide clamp her teeth onto her collarbone with the force of a mini shark. Pain tore through her, and she couldn’t swallow a surprised shriek. Adelaide pulled back at the sound and began to howl.

Sam kicked her in the shin.

Pain vibrated through her. Sara lost her breath. “Why did you do that?”

“You hurt my sister,” he told her, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I didn’t hurt her,” Sara said over Adelaide’s cries. “She bit me!”

Sam met her gaze for a long moment. “Oh. I think her mouth hurts. Can I have my juice and cookie?”

“First you must apologize for kicking me,” she said as Adelaide’s wails softened to moans.

“I’m sorry,” he said reluctantly. “Can I—”

“Then you must make your request properly. May I please have juice and a cookie?”

He nodded. “Yes. You can.”

Sara sighed. “Repeat after me. May I please have juice and a cookie?”

Sam relented and repeated her word for word.

“Well done,” she said. “I’ll get it for you right now.”

Juggling Adelaide from one arm to the other, Sara served Sam’s snack at the table. Remembering she’d once had a toothache and that ice had seemed to help, she then returned to the refrigerator, pulled out an ice cube, wrapped it in a clean washcloth and offered it to Adelaide.

Silence followed. Five blessed seconds of silence. Sara took a deep breath as she watched Sam cram the cookie into his mouth and Adelaide gnaw on the cold washcloth. Maybe there was hope. But heaven help her, she couldn’t serve juice and cookies all day.

It took far longer than it should have, but Sara crammed Adelaide in a stroller and retied Sam’s shoes so they could go for a walk. She remembered as a child how much she’d craved being outside. Unlike the nannies she’d watched in movies, her nannies had kept her and her siblings inside the gloomy palace, which had always seemed to need repairs.

“Isn’t it a beautiful day?” she said to Sam. “It’s December, but it feels like May.”

Sam just shrugged.

“Don’t you enjoy being outside?” she asked.

He shrugged again. “I guess.”

“I hear you lived in North Dakota. Isn’t it very cold there?”

Sam nodded. “It snowed a lot. There’s no snow here.”

“Do you miss the snow?”

He shrugged. “I guess.”

“What else do you miss?” she asked as she pushed the stroller.

A long silence followed. “Mommy,” he finally whispered in a voice so low the wind almost carried it away.

Her heart contracted in sympathy and she squeezed Sam’s shoulder. He immediately stiffened and drew back. Too early for hugs , she thought, making a mental note of it.

Several moments passed. “My dad keeps saying we can go to the beach, but we’ve only been once.” Sam finally said.

Sara couldn’t imagine taking both children to the beach, but perhaps she could enlist the help of someone. “Maybe we can do that soon. Just for a walk. The water may be too cool for a real swim.”

Sam squinted his eyes up at her. “Yeah,” he said skeptically.

Sara felt a ripple of challenge from that skeptical gaze. She frowned. “We’ll go to the beach soon. You’ll see.”

Sam glanced down at the stroller. “Adelaide’s asleep.”

“Oh, heavens. We need to get her back to her crib,” she said as she turned around.

“She’ll wake up as soon as we get home.”

“No. She won’t,” Sara insisted. “I just need to ease her into her crib.”

“She’s gonna wake up,” Sam said, knowingly.

Turned out, Sam was right.

The rest of the day was a blur. Adelaide napped, but not for very long. Sam dozed. Sara served the children an early dinner and they were all half watching television as Gavin walked in the door. Sam immediately snapped to attention.

“How did your first day go with Sara?” Gavin asked.

Adelaide kicked her feet and howled. Sara gave her a washcloth to chew on.

“She took us for a walk,” Sam said. “A long walk.”

“Good,” Gavin said and looked at Sara. “Everything okay?”

She moved her head in a circle because “okay” was relative. “Yes,” she managed. “I figured out that Adelaide is teething.”

Realization crossed his face. “Yeah. You’re so right. I should have figured that out sooner.”

“No problem,” Sara said. “She’ll just be chewing a cold washcloth for the first year of her life. Right, baby?” she said to Adelaide.

The baby frowned and chowed down on the washcloth.

“Good job,” he said, then looked at Sam. “Time for us to go see Mr. Brahn.”

Sam crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t wanna see Mr. Brahn.”

Gavin glanced at Sara. “Mr. Brahn is a therapist. To help with the grief,” he added in a low voice and walked toward Sam. “Hey, bud, we both need to go.”

Sam stuck out his lower lip. “Mr. Brahn is boring. Don’t wanna—”

“Ice cream or video game?” Sara whispered to Gavin.

Gavin glanced at her. “What?” he asked.

“Just a thought,” she said. “Maybe after your appointment, you could do something fun.”

He stood for a moment then nodded. “Good idea,” he said then turned to Sam. “Ice cream or video game afterward?”

Sam’s eyes lit up. “Can I have both?”

Gavin chuckled. “Only one,” he said and scooped his son into his arms.

“Ice cream,” Sam said.

Gavin sent a sideways glance at Sara. “This could make bedtime more difficult.”

Sara smiled. “I’m sure Adelaide will be asleep by the time you return, so it will be easier dealing with just one,” she said, hoping that would be true. “If you need to know where to go, there’s a wonderful gelato place downtown on Geneva Street.”

“Geneva Gelato?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. “Have you been there?”

“No. Just sounded right,” he said. “What flavor is the best?”

“The hazelnut chocolate is to die for. Best in the world, with the exception of Italy, of course,” she said.

“You’ve traveled the whole world?” he asked, studying her.

His scrutiny made her nervous. She resisted biting her lip and shrugged her shoulders. “It’s an expression. Try it and let me know what you think.”

Sara watched the duo head out the door and turned to Adelaide. “How about a bath and a bottle?” she asked the baby, carrying her toward the kitchen sink. Princess Bridget of the royal Devereaux family had taken Sara under her wing so that Sara could learn some of the finer points of how to care for babies and active boys. Since Bridget had given birth to a baby girl less than a year ago and was the mother of two adopted boys, she was quite informed.

After cleaning the sink, Sara placed a towel in the bottom of it and filled it partway with warm water. She undressed Adelaide and put her into the bath. She tried to take the washcloth away from the baby, but Adelaide screamed in protest. “All right, all right. You can keep it. Let’s just try not to get soap on it.”

Sara talked the entire time about nothing in particular. Princess Bridget had told her that talking soothed and reassured infants while bathing. After the bath, she dried off Adelaide and dressed her in clean clothing and negotiated an exchange for a fresh washcloth.