Chapter 7—Dinner with the Family

~~Geneva~~

I wasn’t good with kids. I’d never been around them much in my twenty-four years, and I was woefully unprepared. My nieces and nephews graciously accepted my bumbling attempts in good faith. They were basically wonderful kids, maybe a little spoiled but with an innate kindness they must’ve inherited from my brother, as they didn’t get it from Bria.

Teagan, at fifteen, was the oldest, boy crazy, and fully embroiled in teenage angst. Everything was cause for huge drama. I related to her the most as I remembered those days of rampant hormones, when everything had been a crisis, and just wanting to fit in.

Desmond, or Dez, had just turned thirteen and recently discovered girls were as interesting as sports. He was a hockey player and quiet and intense like his father.

Anna and Alice, the twins, were ten, and I still fumbled over which one was which. My inability to distinguish one from the other was compounded by them pretending to be the other. One of them was more of a tomboy and the other more of a princess, but when they did the switch on me, I was left clueless.

The youngest, Amos, was eight. He fancied himself a superhero and was always looking for villains or someone to save from said villains. We needed more people like Amos in the world. Happy, intelligent, kind, and always willing to help out whenever he could.

Jock’s current nanny, Esme, was a career nanny somewhere between fifty and eighty. We really had no idea how old she was and didn’t care. She jogged every morning, lifted weights, and had some kind of belt in martial arts. The kids loved her and so did Jock. She was a pseudo grandmother for them, and somewhat of a kick-ass mother for me. She lived in a mother-in-law apartment in the daylight basement of Jock’s big home with her lifetime partner, Eunice. They grew flowers and veggies in a garden next to the garage. Eunice was as tough as Esme. She, too, worked out and knew martial arts. Jock never worried about the kids’ safety when he was on a road trip, and rightfully so.

Esme and Eunice had been with Jock about six years and were essential members of the family. Neither gave her opinion of Bria, but I suspected they had one based on the sour look on their faces every time the woman’s name came up. I didn’t pry into their past, but once in a while, I caught Esme looking at the children with such profound sadness, I guessed she had a tragedy in her past.

Someday we’d have a talk over a bottle of brandy.

Esme was the glue that held us together. She didn’t mind the daily chaos and drama, maybe even relished it. She had a way with the kids, and I envied her ability to talk Teagan out of a meltdown and coax Amos out of his cape long enough to sit down to dinner. She knew which twin was which, and they’d never been able to play their games with her. She counseled Dez on girls while suggesting how to improve his hockey form.