The Nanny's Double Trouble. Christine Rimmer

of sheer misery.

      Keely shoved herself backward off the bed, raked her hair out of her eyes and hustled for the other room. Frannie was standing up in her crib, sobbing and coughing, snot running down her flushed little face.

      “Oh, honey...”

      “Keewee! Ow!”

      Keely ran over and lifted the poor sweetheart into her arms. “Frannie. Oh, now. It’s okay...” She settled her on her shoulder.

      At which point, Frannie threw up. It went down Keely’s back. That caused Frannie to wail all the louder.

      “It’s okay. It’s all right,” Keely promised, though clearly it was anything but. Gently, she peeled the little girl off her shoulder. “Shh. Shh. Let me...”

      It was as far as she got. Frannie hurled again, this time down Keely’s front. “Oh, bad!” Frannie wailed.

      “No, no,” Keely promised her. “It’s not bad, honey. It’s okay.”

      That was when Frannie threw up again, all over herself. She wailed even louder, “Keewee, I sowwy. I sowwy, sowwy, sowwy.”

      From his crib, Jake cried, “Fa-Fa? Fa-Fa, oh, no!”

      “She’s okay,” Keely promised and wished it were true. “Jakey, she’s going to be fine.”

      Maisey appeared in the doorway to the hall. She moaned in sympathetic doggy distress.

      Keely carried Frannie to the changing table and quickly got her out of her soiled clothes. “Jakey, we’ll be right back,” she promised the increasingly agitated little boy as she grabbed the little girl and a clean diaper. Holding both out and away from her vomit-soaked body, she stepped over Maisey and carried baby and diaper across the hall to her room, moving straight through to her bathroom, which had a traditional tub-and-shower combination.

      Shoving the shower curtain aside, Keely lowered the little girl into the tub. “Here. We’ll get you all cleaned up.”

      “’Kay.” Frannie sniffed.

      Keely turned on the water. Once she had it lukewarm, she grabbed a washcloth and rinsed Frannie off.

      Frannie was quiet, sniffling a little, watching her through wide eyes, as Keely dried her off and carried her—held out and dangling—to her own bed, where she put on the diaper.

      “You feel better now, honey?”

      Frannie solemnly nodded, eyes wide and wet. Keely scooped her up again and put her in the playpen she kept set up in the corner for any time she needed to corral the kids in her room.

      “Fa-Fa? Keewee?” Jake cried from the other room.

      “Coming, Jakey. Just a minute!” Keely called back.

      A plush pink squeaky kitten lay waiting in the playpen. Keely squeezed it and it meowed. Frannie took it and hugged it close.

      “I’m just going to go into the bathroom to clean up. I’ll be right back. Okay, honey?”

      For that, she got another somber nod from Frannie. Though still flushed, her eyes red and her nose running, Frannie did seem much calmer at least.

      Thank God, the vomiting bout seemed to be through.

      Jake called again, “Keewee?”

      “Just another minute, Jakey. I’ll be there. I promise!” Peeling off her smelly shirt as she went, Keely darted for the bathroom. Standing on the bathroom rug by the tub, she wiggled free of her bra, kicked out of her shoes and shoved down both her jeans and panties at once.

      “Keewee!” Jake shouted.

      “Jakey, I’m right here! Just a minute!” she called, as she hopped around in a ridiculous circle, whipping off one sock and then the other. Flipping on the taps, switching the flow to the showerhead, she got in under the still-cold spray and yanked the curtain closed.

      Three minutes, tops, she was in there. Jake called her name repeatedly. Once or twice, Frannie did, too. Keely got the mess off, rinsed in record time, flipped off the tap and shoved the shower curtain wide.

      She’d stepped, dripping wet to the bath mat, and reached for her towel before she happened to glance through the open bathroom door to the bedroom.

      Jake in his arms and Maisey at his feet, Daniel stood by the playpen staring at her with his mouth hanging open.

       Chapter Three

      Keely grabbed her towel, whipped it around her, stepped to the bathroom door and shoved it shut.

      Only then did she sink to the toilet seat and hit her forehead with the heel of her hand. Never in her life had she been so embarrassed. Not even the day she wore white jeans on the tour bus and got her first period. Except for her and her mom, everyone on that bus was a guy. Keely just knew all those rockers had seen her shame—and okay, on second thought, that might have been worse.

      But this was plenty bad.

      The look on his face. Like someone had just dropped a safe on his head.

      God. Daniel had seen her naked. That was so wrong. In all the ways that really counted, she was Lillie’s sister and a man ought never to see his wife’s sister naked.

      Seriously. Would it have killed her to shut the damn bathroom door?

      But she’d thought they were alone—just her, the kids and Maisey. She’d wanted to be able to hear them while she cleaned up, just in case...

      Just in case, what? Come to think of it, she had no idea.

       It’s not the end of the world, Keely. No one will die from this. Get over yourself.

      Daniel tapped on the door. “Keely? You okay?”

      “Fine! Really!” Her voice had the tinkling brightness of breaking glass. “We, uh, had a little accident.”

      “But...you’re okay?”

      Oh, hell, no. “Yes. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

      He made a nervous throat-clearing sound. “I’ll just take the kids into the other room.”

      “Great! Be there in a few.”

      “Uh. Take your time.”

      She started to call out something frantic and cheerful. “Righto!” or “Absolutely!” But she shut her mouth hard and folded her lips between her teeth so that not one more ludicrous word could escape.

      * * *

      Fifteen minutes later, she found Daniel and the kids in the bedroom across the hall. He sat in the rocker, holding Frannie, who looked like a slightly flushed angel, all curled up in his arms, sucking peacefully on a baby bottle half-full of water. He’d dressed her in a cozy pair of pink pajamas.

      Jake lay on the floor nearby, gumming a plastic teething pretzel, one plump arm thrown out across Maisey, who lay at his side. He took the pretzel from his mouth and gave her his most dazzling smile. “Keewee. Hi there.”

      “Hey, honey.”

      “Da-Da home.”

      “Oh, yes, he is.”

      Jake stuck the pretzel back in his mouth and chewed some more. Maisey nuzzled him, and he gave a lazy little giggle around the toy in his mouth.

      The puddle of vomit on the rug was only a damp spot now, and the room smelled of the all-natural cleaner they used around the kids, a citrusy scent.

      She made herself raise her gaze and look at Daniel. Those sea-glass eyes were waiting. She made herself speak. “You’re home early.”

      “I was worried about Frannie and thought maybe you could use a break