“I’m truly sorry.” I speak around a lump in my throat. “I must’ve forgotten. I promise I’ll never let it happen again.”
Cecelia is sobbing now while Nina holds her close and gently strokes her blond hair. Eventually, the sobs subside, but Cecelia still clings to her mother. I feel a terrible stab of guilt. Deep down, I know you aren’t supposed to feed kids before checking with the parents. I’m in the wrong here, and if Cecelia hadn’t been so vigilant, something terrible could’ve happened.
Nina takes a deep breath. She shuts her eyes for a moment and opens them again. “Fine. But please be sure you don’t forget anything so important ever again.”
“I won’t. I swear.” I wring my fists together. “Do you want me to throw out the jar of peanut butter that was in the pantry?”
She’s quiet for a moment. “No, better not. We might need it.”
I want to throw up my hands. But it’s her decision if she wants to keep life-threatening peanut butter in her home. All I know is that I will definitely never use it again.
“Also,” Nina adds, “when will dinner be ready?”
Dinner? Was I supposed to be making dinner? Did Nina imagine another conversation between the two of us that we never had? But I’m not about to make excuses again after the debacle with the peanut butter. I’ll find something in the fridge to prepare.
“Seven o’clock?” I say. Three hours should give me more than enough time.
She nods. “And you won’t put any peanut butter in the dinner, right?”
“No, of course not.”
“Please don’t forget again, Millie.”
“I won’t. And does anybody have any other allergies or… intolerances?”
Is she allergic to eggs? Bee stings? Too much homework? I need to know. I can’t risk being caught out again.
Nina shakes her head, just as Cecelia lifts her tear-streaked face off her mother’s chest long enough to glare at me. The two of us have not gotten off on the right foot. But I’ll find a way to fix it. I’ll make her brownies or something. Kids are easy. Adults are trickier, but I’m determined to win over Nina and Andrew as well.
FIVE
By 6:45, dinner is almost ready. There was some chicken breast in the fridge that was already marinated and somebody had printed instructions on the bag, so I just did what the instructions said and threw it in the oven. They must get their food from some sort of service with directions already on it.
The kitchen smells fantastic when the garage door slams. A minute later, Andrew Winchester is strolling into the room, his thumb in the knot of his tie to loosen it. I’m stirring some sauce on the stove top, and I do a bit of a double-take when I see him, having forgotten quite how handsome he is.
He grins at me—he’s even more handsome when he smiles. “Millie, right?”
“That’s right.”
He inhales deeply. “Wow. That smells incredible.”
My cheeks flush. “Thank you.”
He looks around the kitchen in approval. “You got everything clean.”
“That’s my job.”
He chuckles. “I suppose it is. Did you have a good first day?”
“I did.” I’m not going to tell him about the peanut butter debacle. He doesn’t need to know, although I suspect Nina will clue him in. I’m sure he won’t appreciate me almost killing his daughter. “You have a beautiful home.”
“Well, I have Nina to thank for that. She runs the household.”
As if on cue, Nina arrives in the kitchen, wearing another of her white outfits—a different one than only a few hours ago. Once again, she looks impeccable. But while I was cleaning earlier, I took a few minutes to look at the photographs on their mantle. There’s one of Nina and Andrew together from many years ago, and she looked so different then. Her hair wasn’t as blond and she had on less makeup and more casual clothing—and she was at least fifty pounds thinner. I almost didn’t recognize her—but Andrew looked exactly the same.
“Nina.” Andrew’s eyes light up at the sight of his wife. “You look beautiful—as usual.”
He pulls her to him and kisses her deeply on the lips. She melts against him, grabbing his shoulders possessively. When they separate, she gazes up at him. “I missed you today.”
“I missed you more.”
“I missed you more.”
Oh my God, how long are they going to debate who misses who more? I turn away, busying myself in the kitchen. It’s awkward to be so close to this display of affection.