She didn’t say anything for a moment, and it looked as if she was waiting for me to tell her I was kidding. I knew that expression because I got it a lot from family and well-meaning friends who didn’t have a clue how to organize their lives or those of small children.
My phone rang and I suppressed a sigh as I recognized Suzy Dorf’s number. I ended it and then before I could remember what we’d been talking about, I got a ping telling me I had a text message. I looked at it and tried not to squint to read it, despite the fact that I’d made the font as large as it could go. So large, Nola suggested, that my texts could be read from outer space.
Have you heard about the new movie they’re filming in Charleston? I have the scoop you might want to hear. And besides, you owe me an interview.
I began to respond with Why would I owe you anything? But after three failed attempts to make a capital W for the first word, I gave up. I didn’t owe her anything, especially not a response to her ridiculous text. The previous year she’d printed the contents of an anonymous letter she’d received at the paper about buried bodies in my garden. The only thing I owed her was a wish that she’d become one of them.
“Sure. Let’s go inside,” Jayne said. “I left my stuff on the front porch and can bring it in as soon as I know where to put it.”
I picked Sarah out of her swing and watched as Jayne lifted JJ. “Jack can bring your bags in when he gets home. Is it a lot?”
She shook her head. “No—just a regular suitcase. I travel light. Old habit to break, I guess.”
There wasn’t any note of self-pity in her voice, but it brought back again the image of her as a baby being left on a church doorstep. It made me want to offer to redecorate her room in her favorite colors and furnish it with all the things she loved. Which was silly, really, since I didn’t know her, much less her favorite colors. I might have moved around a lot with my military father, but I’d always had my own room that I’d been allowed to decorate, hanging up as many ABBA posters as I wanted. It made me feel sorry for her, for her less-than-perfect childhood that she’d managed to overcome. Maybe because I was now a mother, I saw a need to be a mother for those in need of one.
As we walked toward the back door, each holding a child, I made a mental note to start a spreadsheet to keep track of all the things we could do to make Jayne feel welcome and at home, then made another note to go online to see if I could find any ABBA posters she might want to hang on her walls.
We walked slowly through the house so she’d be familiar with it, pausing for a moment in front of the fireplace in the downstairs drawing room. “Have you had any thoughts on baby-proofing this room yet?” she asked.
“I’ve purchased all the corner protectors and cabinet locks but haven’t had to use them yet. Sarah is very obedient and doesn’t do anything once you ask her not to. And JJ prefers to sit and wait for someone to carry him to where he wants to go—preferably his dad, but if Jack’s not available, then a female person. I have all the safety paraphernalia in a section of their closet upstairs with everything labeled so you can see what we have.”
“Labeled?”
“Yes. And I bought you your own labeling gun just in case I’ve missed anything. Actually, I haven’t labeled the inside of their dresser drawers yet—so that can be your first assignment. You can do it while they’re napping—JJ could sleep through a hurricane and Sarah has so much fun babbling to herself in her crib that she won’t even notice you’re there.”
She blinked a couple of times before smiling. “Of course.” We turned to leave, but she paused in front of the grandfather clock. “Is it broken?”
The pendulum was swaying back and forth, the familiar ticktock echoing in the room, but the hands of the clock were stopped at ten minutes after four o’clock. I looked at my watch just to make sure that I hadn’t somehow lost track of time, something I’d been unfamiliar with until I met Jack. I stared at the time for a moment, something about it jarring my memory. I frowned. “That’s weird. It’s been working perfectly. I guess I’ll have to call somebody.”
I showed Jayne the kitchen, where JJ started to clap his hands in anticipation of being fed. “He likes his food,” I said. “He’ll eat anything and at any time, but prefers somebody else to feed him. Sarah is a good eater, but more selective and much prefers to feed herself.”
Jayne nodded. “It’s good for them to retain their individual personalities. It’s important that they see themselves as separate persons.”
I led her out of the kitchen toward the stairs. “They look so much alike that it’s amazing to me how different their personalities are.”
“Well, they do come from two different parents. Are you and your husband very much alike?”
“Not at all,” I said at the same time as I heard Jack behind us say, “Practically identical.”