Chapter 25
Twenty-Five
Mid-morning the next day, I go searching for someone. Anyone, really. I have a question about driving into Glasgow that is pretty burning. However, the easy part of finding someone to listen to my question turns out to be harder than I thought.
I search the kitchen, but Mrs. Wolf is gone. Henri, the butler, is nowhere to be found around the ground floor. I even go to Natasha when it becomes apparent that Keir has gone to work outside the castle.
Did no one think to let me know that they were leaving me all alone?
I pass the dining room, my mouth twisted to the side. In my hurry to get to my room, I hurtle past a small movement. It’s only a few seconds later that I realize what I just saw and back up.
Isla is on her knees in the dining room, peering at a large, scruffy-looking gray dog as it lies in a nest of towels. The dog pants and for a second I think it is sick. Stepping forward with a mind to snatch Isla out of the room, I see that the dog is very, very pregnant.
“Is this your dog?” I ask, keeping my voice low. I approach the girl and the dog cautiously, trying not to see scenes from Cujo flashing in my head.
Isla startles and looks up at me with a guilty expression. “No…”
I expect her to say more, but she doesn’t. I move to stand beside her, touching her shoulder. She allows the contact without comment, which I take as a win.
“Did someone else set her up in here?” I ask, keeping my tone light.
Isla licks her lips and grimaces. “No.”
I nod my head. “Wow, so you were the one who made this pallet for her to lay on?”
“The towels? Yes, that was my idea. I hope Mrs. Wolf won’t be too mad. They are the towels she uses to dry off my feet when I come in from a storm.”
“That’s genius. Mrs. Wolf probably won’t mind one bit.” I squeeze her shoulder, take a deep breath, and then move closer to the dog. She whines and thumps her tail, yawning nervously. “Where did you find her?”
“Lady. I’m calling her Lady, because I love Lady and The Tramp. And I found her at the door, begging to come inside.”
“Lady is a pretty name,” I murmur. I reach down and very gently stroke Lady’s shoulder. She looks at me and thumps her tail, but she’s clearly right in the middle of labor.
“Should we call a doctor for dogs?” Isla wonders aloud.
“A veterinarian?” I stroke Lady again, curling my lip indecisively. “I don’t think so. Lady isn’t in any obvious distress. Why don’t you and I set out some water and food for her? We can keep tabs on her but give her a little privacy.”
Isla nods, pointing out a bowl filled with a handful of bread. I raise my eyebrows.
“Wow! You did really well. You looked at the dog, assessed what she needed, and set it up for her. That’s really well reasoned. I am seriously impressed that you did that.”
Isla pushes her wild red-orange hair back. “Really?”
By the look she gives me, she doesn’t quite believe me. Moving back toward her, I give her a soft smile and touch her shoulder again. “Seriously. Well done. That shows that you used your brain and thought about what would make Lady happy.”
“Oh.” She scans my face for several seconds, blushing two vivid spots of red. “I want her to be comfortable.”
“Well, it looks like Lady is going to have some puppies, And we should mostly stay out of her way and let nature take its course. But how about you and I grab a bowl of water just in case she’s thirsty?”
“Yeah, we can do that.” Isla stands up, brushing off her dark jeans and dirt-smudged white shirt.
“You lead the way.” I purse my lips and nod toward the kitchen.
Apparently, that was the right thing to say to her. Head held high, Isla swans out of the living room and down the hall. As we approach the kitchen, she starts to chatter.
“How many puppies do you think Lady will have? And do you think Daddy will let me keep them? I hope he does…” She pulls a face as she pushes the kitchen door open. “Daddy doesn’t like animals, though.”
“No?”
I follow along, amused that a switch seems to have flipped. Suddenly the sullen child is full of thoughts and ideas and she’s not holding a single one of them inside.
“I’m going to name the puppies,” Isla says. “What do you think I should name them? I’m thinking I should name them after planets. You know, Jupiter, Mars, Saturn…”
“That’s a really cool idea. Where did you get it from?
” I hunt for a bowl and fill it with water, then turn to the fridge.
Looking around in it, I pull out a turkey leg and spend a minute shredding it into a bowl.
I figure it can’t hurt in case the dog wants a little protein instead of the bread that Isla provided.
She follows me around as I work, rattling off facts. “I love to look at the sky at night. Daddy has bought me several books about outer space. They are neat. One has great pictures of the planets and what’s on the inside.”
“Gosh, you’ll have to show me what you mean later.” I hand the bowl full of shredded turkey and follow her as she gets leads me back to Lady. We put the bowls down and I give Lady a reassuring pat. Isla watches me, then copies my gesture exactly.
“She’s so soft!” Isla says. She turns to me with wild eyes and a infectious grin on her face. “Do you think Daddy will let me keep her?”
I avoid the topic by changing the subject entirely. “Let’s go hang out in the hallway. I think I saw you coloring pictures there last week.”
“Yes!” Isla says, unable to contain her glee. “I actually have a new coloring book about space. Let me show you!”
Grabbing me by the arm, she enthusiastically drags me into the hallway. She opens a long wooden storage caddy with every kind of crayon imaginable and so many coloring books it’s almost a little ridiculous.
She chooses one of her space themed coloring books and settles on working on a picture of Jupiter. But when I try to leaf through the books, she slaps my hands away.
“No!” she dictates. “I’ll get you one. They are my coloring books so I get to choose.”
God, has there ever been a moment where she and her father sounded more alike? I purse my lips and let her choose, figuring that this is the very first time that she’s ever been nice to me. Rebuking her for being a holy terror would almost certainly almost blow up in my face.
Besides, it’s not like I’m her actual nanny or anything. She won’t even remember that a former ballerina came to stay for a month or two when she grows up. It’ll all blur together soon enough.
For some reason, that fact makes me sad.
“Here, I want you to do this one.” Isla thrusts a book at me. Not asking, but demanding that I color the page she’s picked out.
I take the book, realizing belatedly that it’s a picture of a ballerina dancing onstage, dressed in what looks like a white swan from Swan Lake. I almost drop the book and have to clutch at it. Swallowing, I can feel my stomach flip flopping.
“What’s wrong?” Isla asks.
I look up and realize that I have been staring at the picture for too long. Giving her a stiff smile, I shake my head.
“Nothing. I was just wondering what color her costume should be.”
Isla squints at the drawing. “Bright pink.”
A rueful smile plays over my lips. I sit down, selecting a bright pink crayon.
“You just have all the answers, don’t you?”
She frowns. “No. But my father told me to make decisions. He said it’s better to make them and have some of them be wrong than to not make them at all.”
“That sounds like something he would say.” I grin. “Your dad is a wise man. But he’s not perfect. And he doesn’t know everything.”
She blows a raspberry. “My Daddy is always right.”
She sounds pretty confident about that. So I let her have it. Again, I’m not her nanny. As my choreographer Bas used to say: not my circus, not my monkeys.
It may be tough to remember, but I’m just here hanging out as a guest.
I release a huge sigh. Isla looks at me, working out some kind of childlike calculus in her head.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” she blurts out.
I’m taken aback by her question. Blushing, I shake my head.
“No. I did for a little while. But mostly, I’ve been really focused on dance. It takes a lot to be a ballerina.”
“Like what?” She is looking down at her drawing, scribbling blue and purple over the planet. But I can tell that she’s listening very closely.
“Well… you have to practice. I danced all day, almost every day. In fact, when I was only a little older than you, I went to a special school that allowed me to study for two hours and dance for six. There was no life outside of dancing. No going out. No meeting people.”
Isla frowns. “That sounds boring.”
“Yeah.” A chuckle escapes my lips. “I really loved dancing, though.”
“More than a boyfriend?”
I slide her a grin. “Definitely more. Besides, I don’t like checking in with someone or feeling like my boyfriend is going to be jealous if I go out alone.” I roll my eyes. “Basically, boys are stupid. Don’t ever grow up if you don’t have to.”
That’s actually only touching the surface of my reasons why I’m not dating anybody. But it all boils down to distrust and money. I don’t want to be anyone’s sugar mama. But damn if I’ll be anyone’s sugar baby, either.
That limits my dating choices to people that have the same job as me. And I haven’t ever found a single one of my fellow dancers the slightest bit attractive,
Isla twitches her nose. “You could date my Daddy. He needs a nice girlfriend. And you seem okay.”
She looks at me out of the corner of her eye, judging my reaction. I give her a lopsided grin.
“What makes you say that?”
She shrugs, looking intently at her coloring book. “I think my Daddy is sad. Mommy went away a long time ago. Daddy says she loves me, but I don’t really know. Now you’re here…”
“Well, I’m not the only woman here. What about Natasha?”
“Duh. Have you even been around Natasha? She acts like she’s nice, but she isn’t. She gives me little pinches like this…” She reaches over and pinches me, hard and fast, right on the thigh.
“Ow!” I say, rubbing the spot. I scrunch my face up. “She does that to you? Why?”
“She pinches me all the time when Daddy isn’t looking. She’s mean. Almost as mean as Mommy when she left.”
My heartbeat picks up, pounding against my chest. “Your mother was mean?”
Isla nods, her expression hardening. “They fought before she left. She said she didn’t love me and that was why she had to go. Daddy thinks I didn’t hear her, but I did.”
I stop coloring and reach out a hand, touching her shoulder briefly. She looks up at me, her eyes troubled. I want to hug her, but I barely know her. I settle for squeezing her arm instead.
“I’m sorry you heard her say that. You’re a very lovable girl.”
Isla’s expression turns spiteful. “You don’t know anything about anything, Ella. My daddy said so.”
I make a face. “He might be right. But you know what I’m right about?” I point at her, trying to ease the tension. “You are a very likable and lovable person. Trust me, I have great taste in people.”
“Yeah?” she asks after a few seconds.
I nod emphatically. “Absolutely. Ask anybody.”
She screws up her mouth to the side. “Daddy says that you’re not a ballerina anymore. You used to be, but you hurt your leg.”
“That’s true.”
She looks down, clearly working through her own thoughts. When she speaks, her voice is very quiet. “Does that mean that you’ll stay for a while?”
It’s the first time that she has shown me this side of herself. A vulnerable side. Almost a scared little girl as opposed to a brash, bratty child she has shown me so far.
I suck in a breath, unsure how to answer. I want to reassure her, but I don’t want to lie to her.
“I’m not exactly sure,” I say at last.
She looks at me with eyes full of disappointment. “Oh.”
“Hey, do you want to check on Lady?”
Isla’s eyes go to the door. She shrugs, deflated. “Okay.”
Putting my coloring book down, I stand up and offer her a hand. She curls her lip and gets up on her own instead. Brushing past me, she moves toward the dining room.
I follow, feeling like my stomach has turned to lead.