5. Ria
CHAPTER 5
RIA
“A nd this little piggy went home!” Ria gently tapped Jamie’s littlest toe, and the boy broke into peals of laughter as though Ria had just told the world’s funniest joke. That was what Ria loved about this age. They might cry easily, but they laughed easily, too.
The triplets were sitting in their high chairs, waiting for the soup Ria had made to cool enough for them to eat it. To keep them entertained, she’d removed their socks and was going through each triplet one by one, singing a song about five little piggies and tapping their tiny toes.
The first hour or so with the triplets had been a mess. She’d had her hands more than full trying to keep the three of them entertained, get them changed, and feed them lunch. And she’d been more than a little annoyed with Tristan for running off before he’d even told her the kids’ names.
Yet eventually, Ria had gotten on top of things, as she always did. After that, the afternoon had gone by in a blur. The triplets had eaten their lunch (grilled cheese sandwiches and apples, no fancy French cooking required), taken naps, played with their toys, done some coloring, run around the yard to burn off energy, done makeshift sensory stations with buckets of water on the front porch, and were now happily awaiting their dinner.
Sure, the house was strewn with toys and there had been a few tears (only from the kids, so far), but everything was under control. The more time Ria spent with these kids, the more she liked them. They were adorable, funny, playful, and clearly very attached to each other. Jamie seemed like the leader of the group and often tried to cause mischief to make his siblings laugh. Jacob and Jasmine were quieter, but Ria could already tell that they had unique personalities as well.
The more time Ria spent with them, the more she also saw how badly this little family needed her. The triplets still weren’t potty-trained, as far as she could tell, even though it was high time to start. They had little in the way of a routine. And they seemed more hyperactive and prone to tears than most kids their age, which could be a sign that they were having trouble adjusting to something.
The timer Ria had set on her phone went off, and she went to dish up bowls of the pea soup she’d made for the triplets’ dinner. She added bread to each bowl then set the dishes on each child’s tray. They dug in enthusiastically, with about half the soup making it into their mouths and the other half falling to the floor, smearing across their cheeks, or landing in their hair. Ria laughed as Jasmine put a dot of soup in the center of her forehead and grinned at Ria as though she was a comedian on stage. Ria grinned back.
The kids were so friendly — and so different from their father, based on the brief, confusing, rather unsatisfying meeting she’d had with him. As the day wore on, Ria kept expecting Tristan to turn up, his urgent meeting finished, with an apologetic smile. Yet he didn’t make an appearance, even for the triplets’ dinner.
After dinner, she considered going to find him. He would surely know that his kids were about to go to sleep. Wouldn’t he? Yet Ria didn’t know where his office was, or if he was even still at home. It was enough of a struggle to find the bathroom upstairs, where she ran water, added some bubbles and bath toys, and plopped each of the joyfully wiggling toddlers into the tub. Soon, they were splashing happily, covered in soap. Ria sang them a few songs, tickled their tummies, and blew bubbles onto their little heads before rinsing them each clean and wrapping them in matching towels.
“Stowy?” Jacob asked hopefully. Already, Ria was more able to tell them apart — the kids looked very similar, but Jacob tended to be a little more reserved, while Jamie was always “on.” As the only girl, Jasmine was, of course, the easiest to identify.
“Of course,” Ria told him, toweling him off.
Jamie jumped into a rambling monologue that was part baby talk, part English, and part wild gestures. He seemed to be describing a story about a squirrel that he wanted to read tonight, but it was hard to be sure. Ria listened patiently as she toweled the other two kids off.
“Let’s find your bedrooms, shall we?” she asked.
“Not sweepy.” Jasmine glared adorably, and Ria smiled.
“Good, because we aren’t sleeping yet. First we’ll have a story, then a song, then sleep.”
“Hmm.” Jasmine still didn’t look entirely pleased, but she wasn’t protesting, either.
Ria led the way down the hall, gently pushing open each door she passed. There was a neatly made guest bedroom, perhaps hers, a clearly lived-in bedroom with white sheets on a large bed that must be Tristan’s, a closet, and finally a bedroom with three small beds and a maelstrom of toys that must be the triplets’. Ria had spent most of the day with the kids either outside or in the downstairs playroom, so she hadn’t seen this room yet. The kids clearly had a lot of toys and no organization system, but that was a problem for tomorrow.
Ria waded through the pile as Jamie belly-flopped onto his bed and started rolling around, singing. Jacob picked up a stuffed giraffe and kissed it on the head. Jasmine went to the bookshelf and returned with a stack of picture books so high, it was hard for her to balance it in her small arms.
“Everyone into bed,” Ria said in her best soothing voice. She turned down the dimmer on the light switch and helped each toddler into bed, tucking them in tight with a few stuffed animals. The next half an hour was spent reading, talking, fetching a last-minute glass of water, repeatedly putting Jamie back in bed when he wiggled out, and finally singing softly until the children’s eyes grew heavy.
Once they were all asleep, Ria waited for a few more minutes before she tiptoed out of the room, turning on the nightlight and shutting off the overhead light as she went. She made sure that the baby monitor was on before slipping into the hallway and slumping against the wall.
It had been a good day, in the end, but wrangling the triplets had been a challenge. They’d had fun (and so had she), but the house was strewn with toys she hadn’t had time to tidy up, and Tristan was still nowhere to be found.
Ria padded downstairs, yawning, put in her earbuds with her favorite playlist, and began cleaning up the toys. There seemed to be little rhyme or reason to the toy organization, so she started labeling bins and sorting toys by type. She put a few bins out of reach on a high shelf to be swapped out later when the current toys stopped being interesting. Next up was the kitchen, where she wiped down the high chairs, washed up the dinner dishes, and did a general tidy. Finally, she went into the living room, where the triplets had curled up to read earlier. The carnage wasn’t as great here, but there were a few books strewn around and blankets discarded on the floor.
Humming along to her favorite song, Ria danced across the living room, picking up books, folding blankets, and throwing away wrappers from the triplets’ afternoon fruit pouch snack. As well as potty training, she’d need to start cleaning up as she went, ideally enlisting the kids’ help. Caught up in plans for the next day and thoughts about the one she’d just had, Ria was barely paying attention to her surroundings. She picked up a blanket, turned to shake it out, and heard a loud crash over her music.
Immediately, Ria’s blood turned to ice. She was often clumsy, but knocking something over on the first day was a terrible start. She pulled out her earbuds and turned to see a large gray vase, decorated with bright yellow lines, shattered on the floor. Ria’s eyes widened as she bent down and lifted a large shard. There was no repairing it.
Although, if she had to break something, at least it was something this ugly. The vase had clearly never been beautiful, even when it was in one piece, so it couldn’t be too expensive. Right?
Ria heard footsteps behind her and whirled. Tristan strode into the room, his expression furious.
“What happened here?”
“I’m sorry.” Ria straightened up, a piece of the vase in her hand. “I was cleaning up in here and I knocked this over.”
Tristan’s eyes widened as he took in the pile of shattered ceramic on the floor beside her. “Do you have any idea how much that cost?”
“I really don’t.”
Tristan shook his head. “Let’s just say it was more than your monthly salary.”
Maybe you should be paying me more, then, Ria thought. Certainly, she must be worth more than this ugly vase, especially since she’d been taking care of the triplets all day with no sign of Tristan. She kept that thought to herself, though.
“I am very sorry, Mr. West. I’ll be more careful.”
“If you can’t be trusted with an inanimate object, how can you be expected to look after children?” Tristan’s tone was low and serious. The ice in Ria’s veins grew colder. Breaking something was a bad move, obviously, but it seemed her job was in danger. And worse, Tristan wasn’t sure he could trust her with the kids — there was real fear behind his question.
“I’ve been looking after children for over a decade with no accidents,” Ria said, her voice calm. “I’m very sorry I broke your vase, but the children had a lovely day, and there’s really no need to worry about them.”
“Maybe I should find another nanny.” Tristan looked from the vase to Ria, who took a deep breath. It was time to level with this man. Surely he had an ounce of compassion somewhere deep, deep inside.
“Please, give me another chance,” Ria said, keeping her tone level and lifting her eyes to meet Tristan’s. “Take the cost of the vase out of my wages, if you need to, but I can’t lose this job on the first day. And I don’t want the kids to lose me, either. I really think I can help you, and them. And if I lose this job, I’ll be in a lot of trouble.”
Tristan sighed. “Fine. Just get this cleaned up before one of the kids gets hurt.” As though the mention of the kids had reminded him of their existence, he looked around. “Where are the kids?”
“They’re sleeping upstairs,” Ria said.
“What are they doing asleep? It’s only seven thirty.” Tristan’s eyes narrowed.
“Yes, it is seven thirty, which is a very reasonable bedtime for toddlers their age.” Ria folded her arms. It was one thing to be upset about the expensive, ugly vase, but it was quite another to go after her childcare skills.
Tristan shook his head. “I need to go check on them.” Without another word to Ria, he turned on his heel and headed for the stairs. Ria watched him go, anger and worry swirling in her chest. She was probably going to lose this job the moment he got back downstairs, which would mean an end to her tenure with Oh Pear! Perhaps that was for the best. Ria would find another job, she always did, and her upper-middle-class clientele tended to be a lot less trying than the extremely rich Tristan West and his peers.
Even if Ria was about to lose her job, she was still employed now. With that in mind, she headed into the kitchen to find a dustpan, which she used to sweep up and dispose of the shards of the vase. By the time Tristan returned, the living room would be perfectly safe for little feet — and the ugly vase would be in the garbage, where it belonged.