The Nanny's New Family. Margaret Daley

for a roll in the basket, Jeremy twisted toward Joshua.

      “Stop it right now.” Annie shot to her feet. “The dinner table is no place for a food fight. If you don’t want to eat peacefully, then go to your rooms.”

      Jeremy glared. “I don’t need a nanny telling me what to do.”

      Annie counted to ten, breathed deeply and replied, “Apparently you do, because civilized people don’t act like this at the table. It’s your choice. Stay and eat politely or leave.” She returned his intense look with a serene one while inside she quaked. She might be fired after tonight.

      Jeremy took the roll and stomped away from the dining room while Joshua hung his head and murmured, “Sorry.”

      “Apology accepted.” Although her stomach was knotted, Annie picked up her fork and took a bite. “Delicious. Your dad is a good cook.” If only she hadn’t walked around the yard enjoying the beautiful flowers before coming inside, she wouldn’t be contending with a headache. In spring she limited her time outside because she had trouble with her allergies.

      “One day I’m gonna be a good cook, too.” Jasmine continued eating.

      “Jasmine, I can teach you a few things. I especially enjoy baking.”

      “I’m Jade.” The girl lowered her gaze. “Sorry about that. We were just playing with you.”

      “I understand. I have a twin sister.”

      “You do? I have a girlfriend who has a twin brother. They don’t look alike, though.”

      “They’re fraternal twins. You and Jasmine are identical, like I am with my sister, Amanda.”

      “I’d like to meet your twin.” Jade—at least Annie hoped that was who she was—took a gulp of her milk.

      Ian reentered the dining room with Jasmine. “I’d like to meet your twin, too.” He scanned the table. “Where’s Jeremy?”

      “He chose not to eat.” Annie took another bite of her spaghetti as the knots in her stomach began to unravel.

      Joshua huffed. “He threw food at me.”

      Ian’s eyebrows rose. “Why?”

      “He’s mean.”

      Ian swung his attention to Annie, a question in his eyes.

      “Jeremy chose to leave rather than calmly eat his dinner,” she answered while her head throbbed.

      Ian nodded then said to the children, “Tell Annie about what you’re doing this week in school.”

      * * *

      Later, contrary to what Ian had asked, Annie finished putting the dishes into the dishwasher. She had to do something while she waited for Ian to return from upstairs.

      He came into the kitchen after putting Joshua to bed. “He fell right to sleep. Thankfully he usually does, while Jade and Jasmine rarely do. Often I’ll find one of them in the other’s bed in the morning. They shared a room until a year ago when they decided they should have their own rooms like their brothers.”

      “I shared one with Amanda until I went to college.” Annie hung up the washrag and faced him.

      His gaze skimmed over the clean counters and stove. “I should have known you would do the dishes.”

      “I figured it was part of my job.”

      “Let’s go into the den and talk where it’s more comfortable. I’m sure after the evening we had, you have a ton of questions.”

      Annie went ahead of him from the kitchen. “A few.”

      In the den she sat at one end of the tan couch while Ian took the other. A fine-honed tension electrified the air. As she turned to face him, he did the same. Exhaustion blanketed his features, his green eyes dull. The urge to comfort him swamped Annie, but she balled her hands and waited for him to speak first.

      He cleared his throat. “What happened tonight has been the norm ever since Aunt Louise died. Life wasn’t perfect before, but she established a routine and gave my children boundaries.” He combed his fingers through his brown hair then rubbed his palm across his nape. “I’m finding it hard to make a living and be here for my children. I’ve tried to do what Aunt Louise did, but my efforts seem to fall flat.”

      A dilemma a lot of parents had. “We live in a society that seems to be constantly on the go. If we’re not busy, we’re bored,” Annie said. “A lot has happened to your children in the past two years. This especially affects Jeremy because he’s the eldest and knows what’s going on. Even to a certain extent your girls do, especially about your aunt’s death.”

      “I’ve talked to each of my kids about Aunt Louise unexpectedly dying.”

      “Have you ever sat down and talked with them all together? I think the best thing my parents did was have a family meeting once a week, or more if needed.”

      “Sometimes because of our busy schedules it’s hard to do that. Tonight was the first time in a while we’ve even eaten together.”

      “Decide on what you feel has to be done, what you can do away with and what would be nice if there’s enough time.”

      “I love my children and have rules that they need to follow, but I can’t seem to get a handle on it. Maybe when you’ve been with the kids awhile, we can talk again.”

      Annie thought of the day planner she’d used to track the children’s activities and school functions at her other employers’. She wished her mother was still alive to talk to, but she could go see her eldest sister, Rachel, who’d taken over and helped raise them when their mother died. “I’d like to get a weekly calendar and put it up in the kitchen to help us and the kids keep up with everything. That’s where family time can be scheduled.”

      “I’m interested in hearing more about your family meetings. What did you talk about?”

      Thinking back to a few she’d had with her siblings, Annie chuckled. “Some could get quite heated, but a rule my parents had was that no one left the room until a solution to a conflict was reached. Once we were two hours late going to bed.”

      “So there are rules?”

      “Yes, a few my parents insisted on and some we got to add. It’s a time for everyone in the family to have a voice.”

      Ian smiled, and for a moment the tired lines vanished from his face. “I like the concept. After you’ve been working for a week or so, I’d like to see if we could try that.”

      “Have your children talked with a grief counselor?” Have you? Have you let life get in the way of grieving?

      “As I told you, I had Jeremy go to a counselor, but he refused to cooperate. Our pastor came over after Aunt Louise’s funeral and talked with the whole family. The same when my wife died.”

      “How long has Jeremy been so angry?”

      “He was some before Aunt Louise died, but mostly since then. It’s getting worse. There are times he almost seems frightened. Before all this began, he was the sweetest child, but in the past nine months... I don’t know what’s going on.”

      “Is he being bullied at school?”

      “I’ve talked with the teacher. She’s noticed he keeps to himself more. In fact, a few months ago he bullied another classmate. That’s when he started counseling. So far there hasn’t been another incident. I won’t tolerate bullying, and he knows it.”

      The feeling that the child was screaming for help kept nagging her. Was it grief? Something else? A stage he was going through? “What does he say?”

      “Nothing. He used to tell me everything. Now I can’t get anything out of him. I feel like I’m losing my son.”

      Not