Professor Everett's parents come for a visit to celebrate "Little Christmas" with their grandchildren. This is a sequel to "Professor Everett's Christmas Carol," and a prequel to the "Love Makes A Family" series.

A Christmas Match

Professor Harold Everett was sorting through his mail shortly after Christmas, when he found an envelope with very familiar handwriting. His mother, in her perfect penmanship, had written a note informing him that she and his father would be coming to visit the following weekend so that they would have the chance to celebrate Little Christmas or Three Kings Day with the kids. True to form, they were inviting themselves.

While his wife had been alive, there had been tension between the two sets of grandparents as to when they would both come to celebrate the holidays, as they each competed for the affections of the kids. Christmas had been the worst, when the competition to give the biggest and best presents had resulted in an overload of toys in the house each year. The compromise made was that Helen's parents, the Williams, would come for Christmas while the Everetts would come for Little Christmas two weeks later. It had resulted not only in a smaller net of gifts, but there was a two-week gap between deluges. The initial onslaught was also significantly reduced, as was the overexcitement of the kids.

Since Helen had died, Christmas had become a difficult time for all concerned. Thus neither set of grandparents had come. However, when the Everetts had phoned on Christmas Day, the kids had been bubbling over with stories of the fun that Nanny had created for them and how great she was as a housekeeper. Hal was glad that his folks were coming but an ominous sentence at the end of his mother's note made him nervous.

"We are so looking forward to meeting the wonderful woman who has turned your house into a home again."

Much as he loved his mother and father, they had always liked to insert themselves into his family business. Helen had taken it all in stride, explaining to him that since his two brothers had failed to marry and give them grandchildren, they were left with only his three to dote on. However, it was not the doting that he objected to, but rather the strong opinions about how he was conducting his life.

He had known that all three children had rhapsodized to them over the phone about all of Nanny's virtues, thus he himself had tried to avoid mentioning her except in the most cursory way. Since his rather unfortunate behavior on Christmas Eve when he had gotten drunk at a friend's party, trying to keep up with his younger date, had a nightmare of epic proportions about what could happen to his family in the future if he did not become more scrupulous in his choice of women companions, and finally had an erotic dream involving his beautiful housekeeper, he had been doing his best to keep his distance from her.

With the household extra busy during Christmas break from school this had been very easy to do. As everyone was home all day, there was more cooking and cleaning than ever to do and the children needed more entertaining. She had been working very hard to keep up with it, but he had begun to wonder if she wasn't also establishing new boundaries with him.

It had become her nightly practice to bring him tea or coffee in his study along with a snack after the children were put to bed. Often at that time, they would take a few minutes to chat about their days, mostly about the children, but sometimes about themselves. However since Christmas she would be in and out of the study very quickly, dropping off the tray and then hurrying out. A couple of times when he tried to draw her into conversation she had made excuses about things she needed to do. Finally, last night, he had directly asked her if anything was wrong.

Giving him that wide-eyed innocent look that she often gave him, right before being evasive, she just said, "Why absolutely nothing, Professor. What makes you say that?"

Not being able to think up a reasonable answer on the spot, he decided to be evasive himself. "Well, just as long as everything is okay."

"Everything is fine, Professor," she replied as she quickly walked out and closed the door behind her. He was disappointed. He missed their little nightly interactions and it didn't seem like they were coming back any time soon.

Of course he knew it was his own fault. He knew that he behaved badly when he was drunk, he was just unsure of how badly. About all that he knew for certain was that she had found him passed out in the living room and then managed to get him up to bed so that the children wouldn't find him in that condition in the morning. He had had a royal hangover throughout Christmas Day and that had not improved his mood or his perspective on what may have actually happened.

He felt rotten all around and was ready to believe the worst of himself. His greatest fear was that he had somehow "taken liberties" and that there might be a grain of truth to the dream he had of taking her to his bed and making love to her. But she would say nothing and there was no retrieving any of the memories from his blackout. He wished he did know, so that at least he could give her the apology she deserved, if necessary.

His parents' visit was not likely to improve things. He knew that his mother would be pleased with her cooking and housekeeping skills, not to mention her wonderful care of the children. His father, while appreciating those qualities, would probably also make a big deal about her looks. Between the two of them, it was just possible that they would thoroughly embarrass him and drive her away in the process.

At dinner that night, he announced to the children that Grammy and Grampie were coming for Little Christmas.

"All right!" said Hal enthusiastically. "More loot!"

"Huh?" asked Butch.

"You remember," replied Hal. "Grammy and Grampie always used to come for Little Christmas give us more presents. Nana and Papa would come for Christmas."

"I don't remember that," said Prudence. "Grammy and Grampie always bring us presents, no matter when they come."

"You were too little, I guess," said Hal. "The last that they came on the holiday was before Mom . . ."

The Professor could see that it was difficult for Hal to finish the sentence so he helped out.

"Before your Mom went to heaven. And they haven't come for the holidays since. You were too little to remember, Prudence, and I guess you were too, Butch," he said.

"That's kinda funny," said Butch, "Because I always remember presents. Did Santa Claus come then too?"

"Yes," answered Hal. "Santa came and Nana and Papa."

"How come we haven't seen Nana and Papa in so long?" asked Prudence. "I can hardly remember what they look like."

Nanny could see that this discussion was starting to get difficult for both Hal and the Professor, so she asked, "How long are they staying, Professor?"

Relieved he said, "Only for two nights. They come in on Friday and leave on Sunday."

"Well that will be lovely, children. You will be able to have a nice long visit," she began. "You know I remember one Christmas with my grandparents . . ."

The Professor tuned her out as soon as she began to tell a story about her family. Whatever it was, it was likely to have some moral lesson on family values and he wasn't in the mood for it. Truth be told, he had been confused and feeling guilty regarding that topic for the past few months. It had been over three years since Helen had passed away and he no longer felt the ache in his heart that he previously did when she was mentioned. In fact, he no longer constantly thought of her. He was now actively dating. He missed the companionship of a wife, yet none of the women that he had dated had sparked any real interest. But it was not because he was pining for Helen. It was because none of them had clicked.

Realizing that Butch and Prudence had almost no memory of their mother, he knew that if he did want them to feel the security of a mother in their home, then he would have to keep dating. Suddenly he decided that he needed to leave the table. A thought had crossed his mind and he didn't want Nanny to perceive it.

"Excuse me, everyone. I have work to do," he said as he got up.

As he left the room he heard Hal say, "Guy! I've never seen Dad work so hard during a vacation before."

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"I hope that you don't mind the extra work," he said as she came into his study with his tea later that night.

"It's not really that much," she said quickly.

"Well, it's two more people at meals and you are going to have to give up your room and bunk in with Prudence for a couple of nights," he commented before she could escape.

"It's no bother," she repeated, "And I think that it's wonderful that the children will have the opportunity to spend time with their grandparents, and of course, you with your parents."

"Well," he said. "I just want you to know that I appreciate the effort you are making."

He smiled at her and caught her eye. He was pleased that she not only met his gaze but returned his smile with one of her own. He wondered if he had been forgiven. However, within a minute she slipped out the door. He heard her go into the kitchen.

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Once again, Nanny had had to escape quickly in order to cover her own confused feelings. She knew that he was feeling guilty about Christmas Eve, mostly because he couldn't remember what had happened. However, it was not likely to be anything that she would ever forget.

Since she had arrived in the Everett household, she had been doing her best to set the place in order and that included getting the Professor settled and married. Originally she had thought that it would be an easy job. He had an active social life that involved dating a number of women. It took a while for her to realize that while there were lots of dates, none of them were evolving into deep relationships. The one exception had been the most recent girlfriend. However she was entirely wrong for him, not to mention the family.

He seemed to be going through what they call a mid-life crisis. Suzette was young and beautiful and flattered his vanity. If that had been all that was wrong with her, perhaps it would not have been such a problem. However it was clear to everyone but him, after that first dinner with the family, that she was not an appropriate candidate for stepmother. It wasn't so much that she disliked the children. She had pretty much ignored them.

She had not been exactly kindly towards herself, but that didn't really bother her. If Suzette had married the Professor than she would have moved on anyway. Sadly, there were still many families in the world who were in need of her special brand of warmth, wisdom and kindness.

All of her intuitions told her that such a marriage would be disastrous for the children, if not the Professor himself. While she herself had had nothing to do with the "staging" of his nightmare, she had done what she had hoped to by reading the children Dickens' "A Christmas Carol" aloud. The suggestion implanted by the story in his mind had helped him, on a subconscious level, to consider the connection between his past, present, and future lives.

She knew that when he had remembered the profoundly loving relationship that he had had with his first wife, he realized how shallow and superficial his present relationship with Suzette, not to mention the lady herself, was. Finding him passed out drunk after she had heard him calling out in the middle of the night had actually been shocking. She would never have expected that behavior from him and it confirmed her belief that this woman would ultimately not only have destroyed him, but the children as well.

She also realized now that she had seriously miscalculated his mood when she gently teased him about coming home drunk. Quite frankly, once she had got past the shock of it, she had thought that it was funny.

But a greater shock awaited her when he had forcefully grabbed her by the wrist to hold her under the mistletoe. Truth be told, he had scared her. However, after they stood locked within each other's gaze, she knew that although he had been rough, it had been a momentary lapse in judgment due to the drink. He still maintained enough presence of mind not to force her into doing anything that she didn't want to do. Her second mistake had been to give way to her feelings of relief while still in his arms. She felt almost too comfortable in his embrace. It had put her off her guard or she would never have allowed what happened next to happen.

As she felt his arms loosen around her, she found herself reaching up to embrace him. He was none too steady on his feet, or so she told herself, even now. He must have mistaken her gesture for a hug, an invitation to greater intimacy, because when he tipped her chin back, she had involuntarily closed her eyes, and felt first his lips and then his full mouth on hers.

She was startled, not because he kissed her because of the immediate sense of recognition. At some point, she had known these lips, known this mouth, indeed she had known this man in every sense of the word. They were not strangers. And because of this, her response was immediate and passionate. Her own mouth had eagerly sought his, with an abandon that she had never permitted with any man before, let alone an employer. She melted into him like a lover, as her heart and soul sought to renew the unconditional love that they had once shared.

She knew he felt it, yet did not understand. Because his mind was clouded by drink he presumed that she was offering herself to him based on some present feeling of attraction. Yet within her present life, she lacked the depth of feeling for him that would induce her to seek such physical intimacy. She might be attracted to him, but no more so than any other good looking man.

As she struggled to regain her self-control, she felt herself lifted up and carried to his bed. He lay her down and as soon as the physical contact ended she regained her poise. As he fumbled with the door, she reopened it and let herself out. Before she left she had advised, "Go to bed, Professor. In the morning you will be grateful. Please lock the door behind me."

She now knew that he wanted to discuss what had happened, but she wasn't sure that she did. She did not have the excuse for her own behavior that she was drunk, and he would not understand if she tried to explain to him those feelings of recognition. Nor did she want him to misread them as attraction.

Her own future was planned with another man. While they shared fondness, rather than a grand passion, she was not adverse to the match. In her world, many marriages were arranged by the parents of those involved. One of these years, he would show up, and they would be married.

She saw no need to question the practice, nor did she want to. It was the way things were. However she still felt torn because until the Professor resolved his "issues" with regard to her, he would never move on to a lasting relationship with a woman who would truly love him as he was and accept his children as his own.

She could see that he was worried about his parents and their possible attempts to push them together as a couple. However, he was seriously underestimating her evasive maneuvers and ability to manipulate coincidence if he thought that that would be a problem. Still, she could think of no good way of easing his mind without hurting his feelings. And most oddly, she was very reluctant to do that.

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Rob and Catherine Everett arrived on January fifth with little fan fair and lots of presents. Nanny was a little disturbed by the strong smell of greed in the air. Had she known how lavish the giving would be, she might have shown a little more restraint herself when organizing the children's official Christmas morning. However the Professor, seeing her reaction to the flood, pulled her aside.

"Don't worry, Nanny. This is the worst I've ever seen them, even at the height of the competition with Helen's parents. I think that they are trying to make up for missing the last two Christmases. It won't hurt to indulge their 'guilt giving' as we might call it," he said. "I'll have a talk with them and make sure it doesn't happen again next year."

She smiled back at him with understanding. How many grandparents in the world sought to ease their consciences for neglect, at birthdays and holidays with extravagant overtures? With a nod in his direction, she escaped to the kitchen to complete the dinner preparations. The Professor caught his mother's eye and realized that she hadn't missed their interaction. It was clearly sending her brain into overdrive with ideas.

When Nanny called them into dinner, everything was perfect as always. The table was beautifully set and the meal cooked and presented with thought and care. As usual she knew what her guests' favorites were and had them prepared. When complimented on her domestic and culinary skills, she modestly lowered her eyes and graciously acknowledged them. The Professor, however, intercepted looks passing between his parents. They had noticed that they were seated side by side.

He was not exactly sure of how the practice had started. He had his own preferred seat, which put his back to the kitchen. Likewise she preferred that side of the table so that she would have easy access to the stove, the fridge, and anything else she might need throughout the course of the meal. Unfortunately, his mother was already reading significance into the seating arrangement that didn't exist.

"Nanny," his father was saying. "You are an absolutely marvelous cook. I have never had a pork loin that was so tender."

"Thank you, Mr. Everett," she said politely with a smile. "I do enjoy a well-cooked meal myself."

"Dear," said his mother. "You must give me this recipe for butternut squash. You must have a secret ingredient. It is so delicious."

Before she could answer, Mr. Everett asked, "So then, where did you pick up these wonderful cooking skills."

"Oh here and there," she said with her usual vagueness. "But mostly from my mother and grandmother."

"I'll say!" said Butch. "If you think the meat and stuff is good, you should taste her cakes and cookies and stuff! Grandmother Figalilly must have been an amazing cook."

"Yes, she was," agreed Nanny, with a hint of amusement in her eyes.

"Figalilly," said his father. "What an interesting name. What is your given name, Nanny?"

"Phoebe," she said briefly, and then anticipating his next question. "I'm English."

"Quite obviously, dear," said Mrs. Everett. "Your accent is so charming."

"And that's not the only thing," added Mr. Everett, suggestively.

"The cooking, of course, is what has most impressed the boys," commented the Professor.

It had given him more than a bit of amusement to see Nanny looking uncomfortable for once. However, now that the conversation had taken a turn that might make HIM feel uncomfortable, he decided to return to the original topic. It was much safer to allow them to compliment her cooking skills, than her person.

"Well, Nanny makes the best soups, too," said Hal, taking the bait. "And she never opens a can. Everything is homemade. If we have chicken for dinner, it's always chicken soup the next night."

"Waste not, want not," said Nanny. "And I do prefer to feed the children fresh, wholesome foods rather than all those packaged things they sell at the market."

"Do you remember the first time Nanny made macaroni and cheese?" asked Hal laughing.

"What was so funny about that?" asked his grandfather.

"Butch wouldn't eat it at first," replied Hal.

"Thanks a lot, Hal," said Butch. "How was I supposed to know that cheese didn't start out as powder. I was only a kid then."

"Well none of us knew how Nanny was going to make a cake for the first time," said Prudence. "She didn't have a box of mix. All she had was sugar and flour and eggs."

"Well," replied her grandmother. "It sounds as if you've all developed an appreciation for homemade foods. Nanny, I believe that you may have ruined them for any other kind of cooking."

"Professor, would you like coffee and dessert in the living room?" asked Nanny, doing her best to ignore the inference.

"That would be great Nanny. Mother and Father, kids, why don't we clear out so that Nanny can clean up," he suggested, pouncing on the opportunity.

"Do you mean that you are all just going to get up and leave Nanny to clear up the dinner by herself? And serve us dessert?" asked his mother, a bit surprised.

"Heck, yeah!" said Butch. "What do you think we do every night? Clean up the kitchen ourselves or something?"

"Well, Hal," said his father. "Not that I want to interfere. . ."

"But he will anyway," muttered the Professor to Nanny, who was merely listening politely to Mr. Everett.

"But when you and your brothers were the same ages as Butch and Hal here, you helped out in the kitchen after dinner," he commented.

"You remember, dear," added his mother. "We had a schedule."

The Professor didn't like the direction that the conversation was taking so he said, "Hal, Butch, time to pay for all that loot you just got."

Nanny tried to protest, "But Professor . . ,"

"Humor me," he muttered. "In the long run it will save time."

"For whom?" she wondered to herself.

Right after she arrived, she had tried to institute a rotation of dinner chores. However, Rome wasn't built in a day and she had found that it was easier just to do everything herself. Especially when Hal, in an effort to make things faster for himself, began to start rigging various appliances as labor saving devices. She had no desire to start that up again.

After the others departed, Hal and Butch began to squabble over who would wash and who would dry the pots and pans in the sink. Shaking her head, she gently pushed them off to the side so that she could clear the table and load the dishwasher.

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In the living room, his mother began to question Prudence about school.

"How do you like kindergarten, dear?" she asked.

"In the beginning it was not so good, but now it's fun," she said.

"Why didn't you like it in the beginning?" she asked, curious now.

"Because my teacher didn't believe in Nanny. She said that she couldn't really be talking to Waldo," replied Prudence.

The Professor rolled his eyes.

"Prudence, honey, why don't you go see if Nanny has the coffee ready?" he asked.

"Wait a minute," said his father. "Did you say that Nanny talks to Waldo?"

"Uh-huh," she answered, nodding vigorously. "We're having peach cobbler for dessert."

"Why that's my favorite!" said her grandmother.

Glad to be off a very dangerous topic the Professor asked, "Dad, how's your golf game these days?"

"Not so bad," Mr. Everett replied. "I may have to raise my handicap though. The old hips don't work like they used to. So what's your handicap been recently?"

But before he could answer, the children returned with the coffee and dessert.

"I thought that you were helping Nanny clean up?" asked Mrs. Everett.

"Nanny said that we would be a bigger help if we came out here," said Hal.

"I think that she wanted us to get out from under her feet," said Butch.

"What makes you think that?" asked the Professor.

"She didn't say it, but she had that 'get out from under my feet' look on her face," replied his son honestly.

The Professor tried to ignore the reproachful glance that his mother gave him. She seemed to have forgotten that it was Nanny's job to run the house. She did it very well and would not thank any of them for interfering.

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When dessert was over and the children had gone upstairs, Nanny came in to clear away the dishes.

"Nanny, why don't you have a cup of coffee and join us?" Mrs. Everett invited.

"Thank you, Mrs. Everett," answered Nanny politely, "But after I finish cleaning up down here I have to check on the boys and put Prudence to bed."

Not to be put off so easily, she pressed her, "Well, dear, when you're done with your chores, why don't you join us? We would love to get to know you better."

"Thank you for your kind invitation, Mrs. Everett, but I have a busy day tomorrow. I would prefer to go to bed early," she replied once again, in a polite tone.

Mr. and Mrs. Everett exchanged glances. "We'll take a rain check then," he said.

Nanny smiled and nodded and made a hasty retreat into the kitchen.

As soon as she was out of earshot, his mother turned to the Professor and said, "Hal, how can you let that lovely girl run herself ragged like that?"

"Mother, she's hardly running herself ragged. She has her daily work routine and she prefers that we don't disrupt it," he said defensively.

"Well, the children could at least help her out. A few chores wouldn't hurt them," said his father.

"They have chores, most of which involve keeping their own things in order. Believe me, if Nanny wanted them helping in the kitchen, they would be helping in the kitchen," he said.

"Well, I just don't like to see the way you all take her for granted," said his mother. "If you're not careful, she'll pick up and leave you."

"I sincerely doubt that," he grumbled, without thinking. "She's having too much fun trying to run all our lives."

"Oh," said his mother. "So then there IS a personal interest?"

"That's not what I meant," he objected.

"Then what did you mean, son?" inquired his father. "Methinks you doth protest too much."

By now, Professor Everett thought that his head was going to explode. No verbal exchange that he had ever had with Nanny had ever been so frustrating. But why did he just think of that? Determined to change the subject, he began to talk about how things were going at the university. Seeing that the subject of Nanny was closed for the evening, his parents let him go on about the details of his life that they really didn't care about. The only detail that they were interested in had just gone upstairs to take care of the children. They knew that they had seen the last of her for the night.

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Later, when were getting ready for bed, Mr. and Mrs. Everett rehashed the evening's events and analyzed them from top to bottom and in between. When they had finally exhausted he topic, they agreed that Nanny was the perfect wife for their son and stepmother for their grandchildren. In addition to a very well run household, anyone with two eyes could see that Nanny and their son were very well suited to one another. But it was clear that they would need a little help to realize this.

The Professor, meanwhile in his own room, was mortified by their efforts to draw Nanny into more personal conversation. Normally, he was more than curious about her personal life and background. However, he had sensed her discomfort with all the attention they were giving her. She was very careful to maintain a firm professional boundary in their relationship. Yes, she was interested in all their lives, but it was as a warm and caring nanny. She nurtured the children, but did not mother them, even Prudence, who was really very needy. And Suzette not withstanding, she seemed very determined to see him married to the right woman who would become his wife and the children's stepmother. She had never given any inkling that she saw herself in either of those roles.

However that had not stopped him in the last few days from thinking about her that way. He supposed that he was so sensitive to his parents' machinations because they were hitting a little too close to his own odd thoughts about her. Still, knowing her as he did, and being the man that he was, he felt that it was his duty to respect her privacy, and make her feel safe in his home. He knew that if he violated the unspoken trust between them, then she would be out the door as quickly as she had come in it.

As she lay in bed beside Prudence, who had used the opportunity to huddle up against her, Nanny also turned over the events of the evening in her mind. The situation in which she found herself was fraught with danger. The Professor's parents clearly had no understanding of what her role in this household was. She understood their desire to settle their son and grandchildren in a two-parent household again. In fact, that was what she was there to do. But she was not there as that potential wife and mother.

If only they would invest their energy in finding him the right woman to take over her duties. She was afraid that if she stayed here too long that she might end up in a rut, or worse yet, fall victim to contentment. That was no way for a Figalilly to live. She enjoyed her peripatetic existence. She was able to indulge in her wanderlust and her desire to set things right in the world, one family at a time. So why was she so bothered by their poor attempts to marry her off to their son?

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Saturday was Little Christmas, the official end of the Christmas season. The children had been disappointed earlier in the season when she had tried to follow her own custom and clear all the holiday paraphernalia up on Boxing Day, the day after Christmas. Reluctantly she agreed to keep everything up throughout the twelve days of Christmas, but today she determined to get the clutter and mess cleared out, and packed away for next year.

Since she sincerely doubted that she would still be there for next Christmas, she carefully packed up the boxes, marked them, and had the boys put them away in the attic. Seeing the care that she was taking, Mrs. Everett commented, "That's very smart dear, it will save you a great deal of time next year.

"Oh, not this again," she thought, "and I do wish that she would stop calling me, dear."

Both of the grandparents were starting to get on her nerves. After lunch, she decided to take care of her usual Saturday errands, including doing the marketing. Not wanting to disrupt her routine, or for that matter his own, the Professor had planned to spend the afternoon in to be there for the kids. His parents had other ideas.

Thinking that perhaps what Nanny and the Professor needed was some time alone, away from the constant presence of the children, they announced that they were going to take the children on an outing to an amusement park about forty miles away. Between the drive there and back, not to mention making sure that the kids got to go on every ride that they wanted, play every game, and eat every treat, they assured their son that they would be VERY late in returning.

When he told Nanny about their plans, she grimaced, knowing that there was a hidden agenda involved.

"Well isn't it lovely that they want to spoil their grandchildren while they're here?" she said, attempting to be diplomatic.

"More like spoil their moods for tomorrow with a sugar overload and too much excitement today. Then they leave, and we get stuck dealing with the fallout," he answered.

Privately she agreed with him, but decided not to say anything negative against his parents. At least the Everetts would be out of the house for most of the rest of their visit, and she could enjoy some peace and quiet.

"You know, if you want to take the night off and go somewhere you should feel free," suggested the Professor.

"What will you do for dinner?" she asked.

"Oh, I think I can scrounge something up," he said.

"But you hate do anything in the kitchen," she objected, thinking of the last time she had left him to his own devices. In addition to making a jumble of her well-organized pantry and refrigerator, he had left her a mess to clean up. Of course Waldo had done his part to help with the clean up by eating the last of the roast beef that he had left out on the counter.

"Oh don't worry I'll be fine," he said and then noticed she had raised her eyebrows. Realizing that he was still not forgiven for his last foraging campaign, he amended his offer to a suggestion that she go out to a movie or something after dinner.

Shaking her head as he disappeared back into his study to read, since he couldn't possibly have any work left to do, she grabbed her purse and her list, and headed out in Arabella to run her errands.

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When she returned a couple of hours later, she found a large floral arrangement with her name on it waiting on the front porch. Amused, she opened the card, which read, "For all the wonderful things you do. Thank you for making our house into a home once more."

The card was not signed and she had known the instant that she had seen the flowers who had sent them. Yet she still felt oddly warm inside. Because of her line of work and her constant movement from household to household she had received very few actual demonstrations of appreciation. More often, it was a few extra dollars in her severance pay, with the occasional "with deepest gratitude" scrawled on the check. But most often the new wife was just glad to see the back of her.

She didn't mind, as this was the nature of the profession she had chosen, and in particular, the specialization that she had developed. Thus the thoughtfulness of the children's grandparents, even if there was a hidden agenda behind it, moved her. Realizing that she had ice cream melting in the car, she shook herself out of her reverie and brought her packages inside. Not knowing what else to do with them, she set the flowers on the dining room table.

The professor had been napping, but when he heard her come in he went into the kitchen to see what additions there were to the pantry. As he was walking through the door he heard her voice from the laundry room saying, "Make this a reconnaissance mission only. It's too close to dinner."

Before he could toss his hands in the air however, he noticed the flowers on the table.

"Hey! Where did these come from?" he asked.

"You tell me," she replied, popping her head out of the laundry room for a second with a twinkle in her eye.

Picking up the card, he read it and unable to control himself exclaimed, "Of all the . . . I've never heard of anything so ridiculous in my life . . ."

Realizing that she had come out and was looking at him with a combination of curiosity and amusement that implied, "Really?" he quickly said, "That's not what I meant!"

Looking at him with that look she had when she was teasing him, she asked, "Oh really, what did you mean?"

Unable to think of an answer off the top of his head and afraid that he might say something else stupid, the Professor heaved a huge sigh and retreated once again to the sanctuary of his office. All he could think of was what he an ungrateful fool he must have just sounded like.

What he failed to realize was that Nanny understood him well enough to know that he frequently said things before he realized that they were inappropriate for the situation. This one had been too easy. She laughed softly to herself and began to prepare dinner for them.

When she called him, he came in suitably chastened and ready with his apology.

"Nanny, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that it was ridiculous to thank you for all that you've done for us," he said humbly.

Seeing that he was genuinely embarrassed, she decided to make things easier for him.

"Don't even think twice about it Professor. I know that your parents have been trying to stir the pot, so to speak, since they've arrived. I really don't think that they mean any harm," she replied.

"Harm is the last thing on their minds," he said, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice. "Unfortunately this kind of meddling is pretty much par for the course with them."

"Well, that tends to be very common in families. They are only looking out for your best interests," she tried to sooth him.

"Well, what they think my best interests are, and what they actually are, tend to be two different things," he complained.

"Just don't pay attention to them. By tomorrow afternoon, they'll be gone. And we'll be refereeing whatever the residual effects are of their overindulgence today," she said, trying to both calm him and make him laugh at the same time.

However, the Professor seemed to withdraw into his own thoughts. She decided to let him alone and they finished dinner in silence.

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After she had finished cleaning up the kitchen, she seated herself in the living room to work on the most recent afghan that she was knitting. Normally, she would have preferred to spend a night off in her own room, but that was impossible with the house guests. The Professor was once more hunkered down in his study.

In about an hour, he came out and sat in a chair across the room from her.

"Nanny, can we talk?" he began.

"Certainly," she said, knowing already what was bothering him. "What would you like to discuss?"

"I'm hoping that my parents are not making you feel too uncomfortable with all of their hints about, you know . . ."

"Yes, I know," she said with one of her secretive smiles. "They really are very sweet. Look! I found this in my knitting basket tonight."

From her knitting basket she pulled out a small gift box and handed it to him. He looked at it apprehensively. Still smiling, she gave him a nod and he opened it. It contained a lovely old-fashioned cameo pin, ivory on black onyx. It was not an inexpensive piece of jewelry. A note was tucked inside.

"You might as well read it," she suggested. "If you don't, it will drive you mad imagining what she said this time."

Unfolding the note, in his mother's perfect penmanship was written, "With deepest gratitude to returning the old-fashioned values of family life to our home." Again, it was unsigned. Once again, he sighed.

"It's a lovely piece," she commented, hoping to learn more about it. "If I am not mistaken, it's an antique."

"Nanny," he started. He knew that it was an antique. In fact, it was a treasured heirloom that his mother had received from her mother. Since she had died young, he knew that it was very special to her. "I'm sorry, if I had known that they were going to . . ."

Seeing that he was about to embarrass himself again with a poorly thought out comment, she interrupted,

". . . shower me with gifts of gratitude? Professor, do you know how few times in my career that I have ever had this much appreciation?"

"We appreciate you!" he said defensively.

"Of course you do," she said soothingly. "Let's just say that your parents are a bit more 'demonstrative' than you are."

"Well, speaking of demonstrative . . ." he began and then stopped because he realized that he was about to get himself in trouble again.

Seeing that he needed to assuage his troubled conscience, Nanny decided to let him have his say.

"Yes, Professor?"

"Well," he said tentatively. "I am a little bit concerned about how I might have behaved early Christmas morning when I returned home a little more . . . well . . . oh, hell I might as well just say it. I was drunk and I want to know if I behaved like a jerk."

With that, he could no longer look at her. He put his head in his hands.

She, for once, really didn't know what to say. She had prepared a little speech, intended to calm his fears while admitting nothing, but she suddenly didn't want to make it. She knew that he would figure out that she was evading his question and that it would continue to bother him. After turning over a few things in her mind, she decided to be direct.

"I'm afraid that when I came down to get you up to bed, before the children saw you, you did not act with the greatest discretion," she said gently.

"Did I . . ." he couldn't finish his question.

"No," she said softly. "You were certainly not a gentleman, but then I'm afraid that my behavior was not exactly beyond reproach either. However, nothing happened that either of us should be ashamed of."

It was her turn to look down. He looked across the room at her flushed cheeks and realized that she had been feeling the same way that he had for the last twelve days.

"But you know what that something is that did happen," he said. "Otherwise you wouldn't have been avoiding being alone with me for the last two weeks. It's been driving me crazy that I don't know what that is."

She looked up at him and knew that it was time to come clean. His eyes betrayed both relief and kindness. She took a deep breath.

"We shared a kiss, a rather . . . passionate one," she admitted. "Under the mistletoe. You carried me upstairs to your bed, but I left before anything happened."

He closed his eyes and sighed in relief. He hadn't harmed her.

"I am so sorry," he repeated. "I would never have acted that way if I had not had too much to drink."

"I know," she said gently. "If I thought that you had not been . . . impaired by the drink, I would have left the next day. If I am going to live in an unmarried man's home, even with his children present, I have to be able to trust him."

"Do you still trust me?" he asked seriously.

"Yes," she answered firmly.

"Do you still respect me? Considering . . ." he once again couldn't finish.

"Yes," she replied without hesitation. "I could never work for a man that I didn't respect."

Then she smiled. The Professor found himself gazing at her face and her beautiful smile, when suddenly they heard the sound of voices coming in the backdoor.

"Looks like the party is starting again," he grumbled. He wasn't sure if he was more bothered that the madness and chaos had just returned, or that a potentially sweet moment had been interrupted. Now why did he think of that?

Nanny let him go in first, so that he could take the brunt of the barrage of exuberance. She knew what he was thinking and needed a few minutes to recover herself before she faced them all again. She only hoped that Prudence would crash out quickly, so that she could get some decent sleep tonight.

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The next morning, Nanny was up early and in the kitchen preparing to make waffles with fresh strawberries and cream for brunch. It was the kids' last day home before school began again and she had promised them a treat. It was a very elaborate one, but since brunch was two meals in one and it would be leftovers for dinner, she didn't mind. She had made a pot of coffee and was enjoying the opportunity to putter around the kitchen in peace before the house woke up when Mrs. Everett entered.

"Uh-oh," thought Nanny, as she read what was in her mind.

"So dear, did you and Hal enjoy a nice quiet time at home together last night?" she asked hopefully.

"I enjoyed the night off," she replied, carefully considering her words. "And the Professor had a chance to nap and read."

Mrs. Everett looked disappointed, but determinedly continued, "What lovely flowers, who did they come from?"

"The card wasn't signed," said Nanny carefully. "But the sentiment was most kind."

"Oh," she replied, wishing that her son had taken the opportunity that she had handed him and stepped up to claim responsibility. She made one last attempt.

"I noticed that you were working on an afghan when we came in last night," she said. "I think that it's wonderful that you enjoy all of the old-fashioned, homely arts and crafts."

"Yes, I do," Nanny replied briefly.

Looking at Mrs. Everett's face, she could see that below her disappointment was a very real sadness. She now realized that she had been so caught up in all of the little irritations of having her in the house, that she had missed the fact that she had very genuine feelings of concern for her son and the children. It was clear to her now that the poor woman only had their best interests at heart. With a touch of her own hubris, she could see how Mrs. Everett could view a woman such as herself as potential daughter-in-law material.

"Would you like a cup of coffee?" she asked pleasantly. "I'm finished with my preparations and am going to take a minute to get ready before the children come. I won't have a moment to myself again, until they go to bed for the night."

"Yes, please," answered Mrs. Everett in a subdued voice. She watched as the gentle young woman got her a cup, exactly the way she liked it, light and sweet. Nanny's natural warmth and caring permeated all of her actions. Realizing that she was offering her a chance to unburden herself, she took a sip and said,

"I admire the way that you always seem to know what everyone else wants, and needs."

"I will take that as a compliment," replied Nanny graciously. "I have found that by watching others closely, one can discern such things rather easily."

Mrs. Everett looked thoughtful.

"Do you find that others reciprocate as readily?"

"Not usually," she admitted. "But most people have their own concerns. It is my job to be concerned with other people's concerns, so to speak."

"You do have an interesting 'job,' as you call it," she commented.

Now it was Nanny's turn to be thoughtful.

"I guess that 'job' is not a very accurate description of what I do. I wouldn't really call it a 'profession' either," she said, now thinking aloud. "'Vocation' is probably the best word to describe it."

"So then, what do you view as your vocation?" asked Mrs. Everett curiously.

"You might say that I am trying to set the world to rights, one family at a time," she answered.

"And when you have set this family to rights?" asked the older woman.

"Then I'll move on to another," she replied, then seeing her look of disappointment. "It is very sad, but there are always families that need to be set to rights."

"But you'll stay here until the family is settled?"

"I always stay until the family is settled," affirmed Nanny, as the boys came running into the kitchen with Waldo.

In the ensuing mayhem, she missed Mrs. Everett's final thought, "Then there is still hope that the impossible will happen."

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Later that night, after the Everetts were gone and the children were in bed, Nanny brought the Professor his coffee in the study.

"So we survived the onslaught," he said, hoping to start a conversation.

"Yes, we did!" she replied, sitting down on the arm of the chair across from the desk. Pleased by the gesture, the Professor couldn't help but smile.

"I'm sorry about the extra work, not to mention the imposition that my parents made on your privacy," he added.

"Well, they may have added to the work. And some of their conversation did get a little too personal. But it was nice of them to show their appreciation for what I do here, even if there was, shall we say, an ulterior motive," she answered.

"Can you blame them?" he asked smiling.

She didn't quite know what to say to that, so instead she said, "I still have to put some things in order for tomorrow morning."

After she had escaped to the kitchen, the Professor grinned to himself. He was glad that he could feel like he could tease her again, and get a response.

Later that night, as she was getting ready for bed, she noticed a small package on her dresser. Recognizing the handwriting on the tag now as Mrs. Everett's, she opened it with interest.

Inside, was a box of fragrant bath salts for relieving the stress of the day. And of course there was a note, which made her turn a bit pink.

"To calm your mind and body when you need respite from setting the world to rights. Always remember that the right home is waiting for you. With love, Catherine Everett."

She softly smiled in spite of herself. It was nice to feel appreciated.

The End

This story is written as the second half of "Professor Everett's Christmas Carol" and is intended to serve as a connector to the "Love Makes a Family" series.