Professor and The Pregnant Nanny. Emily Dalton

      “I think so,” Charles replied, casting Melissa an assessing look, his gaze lowering ever-so-briefly to her pregnant stomach. “They didn’t give me a name. Are you the nanny we requested from the agency, Melissa?”

      Melissa could feel her cheeks burning. She didn’t think Charles sounded exactly sure whether or not he wanted her answer to be yes. As well, it suddenly occurred to her that Charles might be shocked to see her in this job. Back in high school she’d been president of the Future Business Leaders of America. Despite her slight math handicap, she’d always been good in business classes back then and had had big plans.

      But look at her now! She was embarrassed. Very embarrassed. Charles wasn’t making her feel that way, and she loved being a part-time nanny, but it didn’t take an Einstein to figure out that Charles Avery, labeled a nerd in high school and excluded from her popular circle, had made something of himself, while she on the other hand…

      At thirty-one she was already divorced, struggling to get the college degree she’d put off while helping Brad through school, and had to work a part-time job to make ends meet while she paid off debts from her failed marriage and tried to succeed at a business venture she should have started years ago. Actually, it was the things about her life Charles didn’t know that were most embarrassing, so if she could keep them a secret, maybe she’d make it through the week without dying of shame.

      “Yes, I’m your nanny,” she finally answered, speaking directly to the little boy. “And I can’t wait to get started.”

      Now she looked pointedly at Charles, who took the hint and stepped aside to allow her to enter the house.

      “Well…that’s great,” Charles said, not very convincingly as he shut the door behind them and led Melissa into a large living room. He motioned to a chair. “I’ll introduce you to the kids, then we can…you know…get started.”

      As Melissa settled in the chair Charles indicated, he and the children sat down on a sofa directly opposite her. Charles seemed to be trying to avoid staring at her pregnant belly as he introduced the children—Christopher, four, Sarah, three, and Daniel, two—but none of the children were shy about staring. As soon as his father stopped to draw breath, Christopher directed a question to the object of all their thoughts. “Are you going to have a baby or somethin’?”

      Melissa smiled. “Oh, it’s not a something. It’s a baby, all right. I’ve seen pictures.”

      Christopher’s eyes widened. “Wow. Already? But how—?”

      “When are you due, Melissa?” Charles broke in, probably trying to curtail Christopher’s questions as well as to discover for himself whether or not he had to worry about a pregnant woman going into labor while she was supposed to be taking care of his children.

      “Not for two weeks,” she told him, hoping he found that fact reassuring.

      He nodded, but there was still a tiny fissure of worry between his eyebrows. “And…and how’s Brad doing?”

      Melissa should have been expecting the question, but it still took her by surprise. She had no idea what to say. Did she dare admit that she and Brad were divorced? That the golden couple from East High had had a tarnished marriage? That she was paying off credit card bills from Brad’s extravagant support of his mistress, the rent on that woman’s apartment and all the little trinkets he bought her?

      Probably bored by now with the grown-up talk, Christopher scrambled off the couch, grabbed a ball from the corner of the room, and began tossing it in the air.

      Charles returned to the subject. “He’s probably pretty excited about the baby…Brad, I mean. Is this the first for you two?”

      That’s when Melissa did it. She did it without thinking. She did it without considering repercussions or the very obvious moral arguments against it. She did it almost before Charles finished speaking.

      She opened her mouth and out came the biggest lie of her life.

      “Brad’s dead,” she stated abruptly. “Killed several months ago in a car accident.”

      Charles’s face immediately reflected his horror at so insensitively mentioning her poor, dead husband. “I’m sorry, Melissa. I didn’t know.”

      “Of course you didn’t know. How could you?” Melissa automatically answered, while internally rationalizing what she’d just done. It’s just a small concession to my pride, she told herself. After this week, I’ll never see Charles Avery again. It’s just a little white lie. A little…white…lie.

      Charles’s horrified expression softened to one of sympathy and concern. “I won’t say I know just how you feel. People say that all the time, trying to be comforting. But, actually, it’s possible that I do know a little of how you feel, Melissa. When Annette died—”

      “Annette?” Melissa quavered.

      “My wife,” Charles answered with a nod. He studied her face for a moment, then said, “Oh, I see. You didn’t know, either.”

      “Your wife is—?”

      “Yes. She’s been gone since Daniel was just a month old. She was killed in a car accident, too.”

      “But I thought…The agency told me your wife was away to a funeral or something,” Melissa explained faintly.

      “They obviously got their facts mixed up,” Charles said. “But it sounded pretty hectic at the agency when I called this morning. It’s my permanent nanny, Mrs. Butters, who’s away at a funeral in New Orleans.”

      Melissa was sick with shame! She’d told him Brad was dead to avoid revealing the embarrassing truth. She didn’t want to admit that Melissa Richardson Baxter had made a shambles of her life. That she’d been duped and dumped on by her husband for more than a decade before finally seeing the light and getting a divorce. That she, the stupid, deluded half of East High’s golden couple, had continued being stupid and deluded for twelve long years! But Charles’s wife had really died!

      “I’m sorry, Charles,” Melissa said feelingly. “So sorry.” But he had no idea how sorry she really was, and for more than he could ever imagine. She’d claimed falsely to have endured a tragedy that Charles had actually lived through.

      “It’s been a while,” Charles said with that slight, crooked smile of his again. “I’ve got great memories, but I’m doing fine now. And so are the kids.”

      Emboldened by the sight of his older brother having fun despite the presence of a stranger in the house, Daniel squirmed out of his father’s arms and started skipping around the living room in his towel. Sarah couldn’t resist, either, and got down to chase him.

      Charles watched the playing children for a moment, then turned his gaze back to Melissa, his smile slipping away and his eyes darkening with renewed concern. “But how are you doing, Melissa. It can’t have been very long since—”

      Melissa shook her head vigorously. “Please, Charles, I don’t want to talk about it. I’m sorry, but I just can’t.”

      “Nothing to be sorry about,” he assured her. “I understand completely.”

      But Charles didn’t understand, and Melissa was going to make sure he never did. It was going to be difficult, but for the next week she was just going to have to live with her horrible lie and hope Charles respected her wishes never to mention Brad again.

      After a sober pause, Charles took a bracing and cheerful tone. “Why don’t I fill you in on our routine around here as I give you a tour of the house, Melissa? We’ll go to Daniel’s room first so we can get some clothes on this little rascal.” He grabbed Daniel as he scooted past, the toddler now naked as a jaybird because Christopher had stolen the towel and was swinging it over his head. Sarah giggled.

      Melissa agreed to Charles’s suggestion with a nod and tried to smile, but she couldn’t meet his eyes.

      GEEZ,