Read Online Small-Town Nanny by Lee Tobin McClain - Free Book Online Page B

“I’m half-Japanese.”
    The older man snapped his fingers. “I thought so! You look a little bit Mexican, but I was guessing Oriental. Your mom’s Japanese?”
    Yes, he was a blurter. But that was so much more comfortable than his wife’s sputtering disapproval. She smiled at him. “Nope. We don’t fit the stereotype. It’s my dad who’s Japanese.”
    â€œYour English sounds just fine,” the older man said reassuringly.
    â€œI hope so!” Susan said, chuckling. “I was born in California.”
    Helen made a strangled sound in her throat, whether regarding California, Japan, or her husband’s line of questioning, Susan wasn’t sure.
    â€œCalifornia,” Mindy broke in, “that’s where earthquakes are, and Hollywood.”
    â€œYou’re right!” Susan smiled at Mindy. Hooray for kids, who could break through adult tension with their innocent remarks. She took a bite of macaroni salad. Not bad. She’d definitely choose Shop Giant’s brand over anything she could make herself.
    â€œMommy was from Ohio, like me,” Mindy informed Susan. “You’re sitting just where she used to sit.”
    Everyone froze.
    Wow. Susan’s stomach twisted. She hadn’t meant to intrude, hadn’t wanted to take anyone’s place. Should she apologize? Offer to move? Ignore the remark? Suddenly, the food tasted as dry as ashes in her mouth.
    â€œMindy,” Sam said, taking the child’s hand in his own, “honey, saying that might make our guest feel uncomfortable.”
    He was right, it did...but that wasn’t something Mindy should have to worry about. Just like that, Susan’s own discomfort melted away as her training clicked in. Stifling a child’s natural comments about a loss was a way to push grief underground, causing all sorts of psychological issues. “That’s probably kind of sad for everybody,” Susan said quickly. “Did your mom like to cook out?”
    Mindy looked uncertainly at her father. “I think...she liked to lie down the best.”
    Susan’s throat constricted. Mindy had only been four when her mom died. She couldn’t remember much of what had happened when she was younger, of course.
    Couldn’t remember her mother as a healthy woman.
    â€œOh, no, Marie loved cooking of all kinds.” Helen’s eyes filled with tears. “You just don’t remember, honey, because she was sick.”
    Ralph was staring down at his plate.
    This wonderful family meal was turning into an outright disaster. The grief of parents who’d lost their beloved daughter was way beyond Susan’s ability to soothe. She met Sam’s gaze across the table. Do something , she tried to telegraph with her eyes.
    Sam cleared his throat and brushed a hand over Mindy’s hair. “I remember how Mom loved to make cookies with you,” he said. “At Christmastime, you two would get all set up with icing and sprinkles and colored sugar. Mom let you decorate the cookies however you wanted.”
    Susan breathed out a sigh of relief and smiled encouragingly at Sam. He was doing exactly the right thing. “That sounds like fun!”
    â€œDid I do a good job?” Mindy asked.
    Sam chuckled, a slightly forced sound. “There was usually more frosting and decoration than cookie. You were little. But Mom loved the cookies you decorated and always made me take a picture.”
    â€œI remember those pictures!” Mindy said. “Can we look at them later?”
    â€œOf course, honey.” Sam leaned closer to put an arm around Mindy and give her a side hug, and Susan’s heart melted a little.
    â€œThat reminds me, I want to take some pictures today,” Ralph said, “maybe out by the pool.”
    The conversation got more general, then, and the awkwardness passed.
    Later, Susan insisted on doing the dishes so that the family could gather out