Chapter Eighteen
Jennifer
The day after Fletcher and I declared our love for each other, we resolve to bite the bullet and tell the kids everything.
First, however, I need to help Fletcher calm his nerves.
He isn't exactly neurotic about the situation, but he is, well.
..let's just say a swig of brandy wouldn't go amiss.
Fortunately, he bucks up faster than I expected.
No booze necessary. When I suggested last night that the grandparents should all be here for the big reveal, Florry took over the logistics of the operation.
Fletcher receives another text from his mom just as we're both ready for whatever might happen. His lips curl into a sweet smile.
I lean over his shoulder. "What did Florry say?"
"Mum told me she and Patty got the kids all dressed and ready for our 'big talk' as she calls it." He shows me his phone screen, and I can see Florry has added a string of thumbs-up emojis. "She's also reorganized the pantry and alphabetized the spice rack."
"Your mother's nervous energy is quite productive."
"Oh, you have no idea. Last time she was anxious about something, she color-coded everyone's sock drawers." Fletcher pushes his hand through his hair, making it stand up adorably. "Are we ready for this?"
"As I'll ever be."
We wait in comfortable silence, his hand clamped around mine. The warmth of it grounds me. When we hear the crunching of gravel in the driveway, I spot four little faces pressed against the backseat windows, instantly disappearing when they spot us looking.
Fletcher tightens his grip on my hand. "Here we go."
The front door bursts open before we can even reach it. Henry barrels toward us, followed by Charlotte and Josh, with Amelia bringing up the rear.
"Jennifer! Jennifer!" Henry throws himself at me. "Grandma Patty made pancakes and they looked like dinosaurs!"
"Mine was a stegosaurus," Charlotte announces, rolling her eyes.
I just see Fletcher over the kids' heads. He looks like he might be sick, the poor man.
"Shall we all go inside?" My voice is slightly higher than usual. Nerves, I guess.
Florence appears in the doorway, looking immaculate despite the early hour. Behind her, Patty wipes her hands on a tea towel, flour still dusting her shirt. The grandfathers shuffle in last.
"Everyone's here," Fletcher mumbles, his voice cracking slightly. "Smashing."
I usher the kids into the living room, trying to ignore the butterfly convention happening in my stomach.
Florence has, of course, arranged the seating to perfection---children on the floor with cushions, grandparents on the sofa, and two chairs positioned front and center for Fletcher and me.
It's a bit like we're about to perform in a very intimate theater production.
"Did we do something wrong?" Josh asks, his face scrunched with worry.
"Not at all," I quickly reassure him, leaning over to his level. "We have some exciting news to share, that's all."
Fletcher winces. "Right. Yes. Exciting news."
He's gone pale.
I lean back in my chair, reaching over to clasp his hand. "Your dad and I wanted to tell you something special."
The children all lean forward, eyes wide and bright with excitement. Josh's worry transforms into curiosity.
Charlotte grins. "Is it a puppy?"
Fletcher winces. "No, pet, it's not. Though that would be easier to explain."
I nudge him gently with my elbow. He's not helping.
"The thing is," I continue, "your dad and I have become very close while I've been helping your family."
"We know that," Amelia states matter-of-factly. "You're always looking at each other funny. We might be kids, but we aren't stupid. Well, except for Henry."
"Hey!" the youngest Murgatroyd exclaims with pouted lips. "I'm smarter than anybody except Jennifer."
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Patty trying to suppress a smile.
Fletcher dives right in. "The strange looks are, ah, because...Jennifer and I care about each other very much."
"Like friends?" Henry asks, tilting his head.
"Not quite." Fletcher scratches his cheek, wincing again. "We're more than friends. It's more like...ah, grown-ups who care for each other."
Poor Fletcher. He really sucks at delivering important news. The room goes quiet, and I can hear my pulse pounding in my ears.
Charlotte sits up straighter. "You mean like boyfriend and girlfriend?"
"Um, yes, like that," I admit, my cheeks burning hotter than ever. I expect my hair to catch on fire at any moment.
Josh scrunches his nose. "Are you going to get married and have smelly babies that throw up all the time? I remember when Henry was like that. It's gross."
Henry scowls at his brother. "Hey! I was never gross or smelly."
Fletcher's hand goes rigid in mine, and he stammers while attempting to explain the situation. "We're getting a bit far afield here. Can we stick to the issue at hand, please?"
Josh nods and shrugs. "It's cool with me."
Amelia worries her lip. "But you might have babies?"
I wave at the grandparents, hoping for assistance, but they're no help. Florry and Patty look like they're doing their best not to laugh. The grandfathers seem as if they'd rather be anywhere else on earth.
"Babies?" Fletcher makes a strangled sound. "That's...well, something adults discuss privately."
Charlotte crosses her arms. "That means yes. I'm not cleaning up baby doo-doo."
"We haven't talked about that yet," I tell her, shooting Fletcher a sideways glance. His face has gone from pale to slightly green.
Henry bounces on his cushion. "I want a baby sister! Can you make one with purple hair?"
"That's not how babies work," Josh says, rolling his eyes.
"How do they work, then?"
Fletcher's grip on my hand becomes painful. I can practically hear his internal panic.
"The important thing," I nearly shout, trying to steer this runaway train back on track, "is that your father and I love each other and we want all you kids to feel comfortable having me as your father's girlfriend. You all mean so much to me."
Fletcher finally musters the courage to take control of the situation. "We want to know what you think about this change."
The room falls silent as four pairs of eyes stare at us. My throat feels as dry as the Sahara Desert.
"Does this mean Jennifer will live here forever?" Charlotte asks, her expression unreadable. "And you'll share Dad's room?"
Fletcher glances at me. "Not right away, no. But eventually, that's something we might consider."
I hold my breath, watching their faces carefully. Josh seems indifferent, studying a loose thread on his sock. Henry beams with excitement, probably still thinking about purple-haired babies. But it's Amelia and Charlotte who worry me most.
Amelia stands up suddenly, her arms crossed. "So, you're not going to leave like Mom did?"
The room goes dead silent. Even Henry stops bouncing. My heart clenches as I note Amelia's defiant stance, her chin jutted out like she's preparing for battle. Behind that tough exterior, I can see the scared little girl who watched her mother walk away.
"Oh, sweetheart." I stand up and take a step toward Amelia. "I'm not going anywhere. Ever."
"Will you pinky swear?"
"I'll do more than that." I wrap my arms around her. "I promise no one will ever take me away from you. I'm here for good, forever."
The children still seem skeptical, and I don't blame them.
But The situation is spiraling out of control.
I caused this mess, and it's up to me to fix things.
I love Fletcher, and he loves me. But the children matter more than our feelings.
I adore these kids, but they need time to decide whether they're okay with me becoming more than the nanny.
My throat chokes up briefly, then I rise and face the kids who are clearly scared.
"I have an idea," I say to everyone in the room. "You guys need time to process what we've told you. So, I'll get a room in the Millbrook Grand. That'll let you all talk about it for as long as you need to."
Fletcher jumps up. "Jennifer..."
I touch his arm. "This is for the best. Call me whenever your family has made a decision." I struggle to hold back tears. "You kids mean so much to me, and I never wanted to hurt you."
The room has gone as silent as a tomb.
I grab my purse and shuffle out of the house, hesitating on the threshold for two seconds before I shut the door behind me.
My car is still parked along the curb. The drive to the hotel feels like it takes a thousand years, but I manage not to cry---until I walk into the hotel and finally shut the door to my room behind.
God, what if the best thing I can do is to walk away? That would destroy me. I've come to love those children so much.
I drop my purse on the floor, flop onto the bed facedown, and cry.