“Okay, good. Cause he’s my employee and you’re my sister. Not that I don’t care about you both, but if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather stay the hell out of it.”
“I’d rather you all stayed the hell out of it since it’s personal and none of your business.” The words came out sharper than I had intended. But the day had not been going according to plan. Maybe if I went back to hiding out in my bedroom at night and keeping Gib away from the practice room during the day, that would work. Me diving behind a couch every time Sam walked in wouldn’t be the least bit suspicious. Much. Perhaps facing difficult things didn’t fall under my list of specialties. At least, not when it came to one man in particular.
He laughed softly. “C’mon, you know what everyone’s like. The chances of them all minding their own business...”
“Great,” I said glumly, trudging up the staircase. “Do you think he meant it when he said he was always on my side?”
Ben looked back at me, gaze soft, understanding almost. “Sis, you ever known Sam to say something he didn’t mean?”
“No.”
“Exactly.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“Wat den?”
I exhaled. “Then the train drew a picture.”
“Wat den?” asked Gib for about the hundredth time.
“Ah, then the train went for a swim in the pool.”
“Wat den?”
“Well, then the train ate his vegetables. All of them. Without any fuss.”
“No.” His little face scrunched up in disgust. “Wat den?”
“Then the train went to sleep because it was way past his bedtime and he’d been drawing out this whole tell-me-a-story-Aunty-Martha thing for over an hour,” I announced. “The end.”
“No-no-no!”
“Yes, yes, yes,” said Lizzy, wandering over to tuck her son in. “Thank you, Aunty Martha, for the awesome story.”
Gib just frowned. He might have gotten that particular facial expression from me, he did it so well. When I leaned down to kiss him on the brow, however, his little hands reached up and clung to my neck for a moment. As if he actually liked me and maybe appreciated the dumb train story. Not that I teared up or anything because how silly.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” I said, giving him an extra kiss.
Gib smothered a yawn. “More twain.”
“Tomorrow.” Lizzy had her firm-mother voice going on. “That’s enough for now. Thank Aunty Martha.”
“Tank you,” he said tiredly.
“Time to go to sleep,” said Liz, delivering her own goodnight kisses. “I love you.”
“Mommy...”
“Sweet dreams, baby.”
A nightlight turned in slow circles, sending rockets, stars, and hearts moving across the walls. Over in the corner, the toy box was packed full of balls, trucks, a baby bass guitar or two, and various dolls. Gib and I had done a tidy-up earlier and everything seemed in order. Perhaps I wasn’t the absolute worst nanny to ever attempt being in charge of a child.
Despite a full evening of playing hide and seek with Lizzy and Gib, a great distraction from the ridiculous conversation in the band room earlier as it turned out, I was wide awake. Then again, it couldn’t be any later than around nine. His bedtime might be supposed to be eight, but Gibby turned out to be rather ingenious when it came to extending it until all hours. Especially when his father was over working on songs with Uncle David and unavailable for goodnight kisses. Oh the woe. So much woe. Gib had even managed to squeeze out a couple of fake tears. The child was truly a master manipulator and I couldn’t help but be a bit proud of how much effort he put into attempting to get his way. Total dedication to the cause.
“I’ve never heard of trains going shopping for handbags at Louis Vuitton before,” whispered Lizzy, following me out into the hallway, quietly closing the door behind us.
“Every self-respecting train needs a Neverfull.”