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“Nothing!” She sits me down on a bar stool then grabs some mugs. “Coffee?”
“No, but I’ll have some tea,” I say. “You looked sad for a moment.”
She takes the electric kettle and puts it under the filter’s tap, dismissing what I’ve said with a wave. “I’m just a bit under the weather, but it should be gone soon.”
“What do you mean?” I lean forward with concern.
“Nauseous and light-headed. I puked this morning.” She keeps on working the kettle as she speaks.
“You should go to the doctor, missy.” I get up and encircle her waist with my hands, and I kiss her neck.
“Eh, I just drank some ginger ale, and all is good!”
Joyce turns around to face me and gives me a long kiss on the lips. Sensing something is still wrong, I finally ask the question I’ve been dreading.
“Did you talk to Jane?”
She averts her gaze from mine, looking away. Taking a deep breath, she says, “I did. It went downhill. Fast.”
I slowly shake my head. “What did my sister do now?”
I see her biting down on her lip, likely suppressing words she doesn’t think I need to hear. Knowing Jane, they were bad.
“She says I’m only here to take from you, and… Damn it, Logan. Let’s just say that’s the nicest thing she said about us.”
“I feel like getting on the phone and yelling at her right now,” I say, full of anger, but trying to keep a neutral expression on my face.
“No, Logan, please don’t!” She walks away to go search for the tea. “She needs time to adapt to the news.”
I let out a loud snort. “You don’t know my sister like I do. She never adapts; it’s her will or nothing.”
“She didn’t like your late wife, did she?” Joyce says, taking a pot of dried oolong leaves out of a larger box.
“She didn’t,” I say, only now realizing the bitter truth. “She has a problem sharing me with anyone. To be frank, I was surprised when she sent you to me for the nanny job. But why do you ask? Did she say something?”
With agile hands, Joyce sets up a tray with two saucers, two cups, two teaspoons, and a pot of sugar. “Wanna have it here or in the living room?”
“Living room,” I say. “Let’s watch the girls.”
She takes the kettle, puts it on the tray, and starts walking with it towards Esther and Anna.
We’re halfway there when I ask again, “Did Jane say something about Andrea?”
Joyce stiffens, and when she turns to me, she just says, “It’s better if you talk to her about it.”
I yield in an instant, unwilling to push when it’s clear she doesn’t want to talk about it.
Joyce asks the girls for a little space for the tray. The girls demand cookies, and she leaves to attend to them, and while we are alone Anna climbs on the couch and whispers in my ear, “Did you ask her to marry you yet?”
“Anna, no!” Exasperated, I put her on her feet in front of me. “This isn’t something you ask just like that. It takes time. We have to know each other really well.”
Anna crosses her arms and pouts.
But when Joyce returns with the plate of cookies, all of Anna’s grievances are gone. She runs to have the first bite and I hide a smile when Esther ends up being faster by just a second.
“Watch for crumbs!” Joyce warns them as she sits back by my side, then leans forward to prepare her cup of tea.
“I need to have a talk with Jane, then,” I say, warming up my hands by holding onto the cup.
