She set down the tumbler. “I think so. I’m sort of sleepy, though.”
“Could be the medicine making you sleepy. Why don’t you take a little nap?”
She gave the suggestion a moment’s thought, then nodded. “Okay. Will you still be here when I wake up, Nate’s mom?”
“I don’t know. I’ll be here for a little while longer. And you really must find something else to call me.”
“Like what?” Isabelle asked.
Caitlin watched as Lenore struggled for an answer, her eyes meeting her son’s. Nathan made a gesture as if to say, “You’re on your own.”
“How about Nanna?” Lenore said finally.
“Nanna?” Isabelle repeated.
“Nanna?” Nathan echoed.
Her cheeks just a bit pink, Lenore nodded. “It’s the name I always thought I would like my grandchildren to call me. Since you’ll be growing up with them—if I ever have any,” she added with a meaningful look at Nathan that made Caitlin a bit nervous, “you might as well call me the same thing.”
“Nanna,” Isabelle murmured again. “I think I like it.”
Lenore smiled. “You can decide for certain during your nap.”
Nathan pushed the bowl aside. “C’mon, poppet, I’ll tuck you in.”
He left Caitlin alone in the kitchen with Lenore.
Suddenly awkward, Caitlin carried Isabelle’s dishes to the sink, rinsed them and stacked them in the dishwasher. And then, since she didn’t want to share Isabelle’s nasty virus, she washed her hands and dried them carefully on a paper towel she then tossed in the trash.
“What can I do to help you?” she asked Lenore.
Lenore nodded toward a pan on the counter. “You can put the bread in the oven. Everything else should be ready by the time the bread is browned.”
Caitlin opened the oven door and slid the pan of herbed bread inside. “The sauce smells delicious.”
“If we’d left it up to Nathan, it would be reeking of garlic.”
“He did seem eager to add more, didn’t he?”
“Nathan has always loved garlic. Scampi was his favorite dish when he was a teenager. He ordered it every time when we went out to eat.”
“Mrs. McCloud.” Caitlin turned hesitantly toward the older woman. “I know this is really none of my business, but I’m very glad you came today. Nathan has missed you.”
“Yes, well, my son has the best of intentions, but I couldn’t in all conscience leave any child entirely at his mercy.”
Even though she knew Lenore was partially teasing, Caitlin couldn’t help feeling a little defensive on Nathan’s behalf. “He really has been marvelous with Isabelle. Considering that he has no experience with children, he seems to be doing a wonderful job raising her so far.”
Lenore glanced at the doorway, then spoke in a low voice. “It’s still hard for me. Seeing her, I mean. Knowing that she was conceived while I was still married to her father—quite contentedly married, I thought at the time.”
She held up her hand when Caitlin started to speak. “I know it isn’t the child’s fault, and I will make every effort to keep those feelings contained. She is an endearing child, and I’m sure I will grow quite fond of her, given time.”
“I’m sure you will. I’ve fallen rather hard for her myself, and I’ve never been particularly drawn to children.”
Rinsing pasta at the sink, Lenore glanced over her shoulder. “You’ve been spending quite a bit of time with Nathan and Isabelle?”
“Some,” Caitlin admitted cautiously. “There was no one…I mean, he needed someone to, um…”
“He needed someone to be on his side when no one else was. There’s no need to tiptoe around me, Caitlin.”