These are not my characters and I make no profit from borrowing them. This story is best understood if read after "Love Makes Family."

In A Family Way

"Now who has something for us for show and tell today?" asked Miss Fielding of the twenty little kindergartners sitting before her. Hands quickly went up, eagerly and even frantically waving.

Knowing the courage that it took little Debbie to raise her hand unprompted, she immediately called on her before she could change her mind. Looking around for a second, Debbie walked up slowly to the front of the room. Turning slowly, she reached into her pocket and took something small out. In the palm of her hand sat an oblong ring.

"This is a mood ring," she offered shyly as the other children leaned forward to see. "It changes colors to tell me if I am happy or sad."

"Oohs" and "aahs" from her classmates rewarded her effort as she turned it over for them to see. It turned a lovely shade of blue.

"What does that mean?" asked Donnie curiously.

"It means that I am peaceful," answered the little girl. Pleased with her success, she went back to her seat. Laurel Fielding was especially gratified by her first choice. Maybe now Debbie would be a little more forthcoming with her classmates and volunteer more often in class. The hands started to wave again. Despite the fact that Prudence Everett had begun to wiggle her finders, she called on Alan. Prudence always had something to show and tell. She was also very unpredictable and this morning Laurel wanted things to go smoothly.

With confidence, Alan strode up to the front of the room holding a closed shoebox. Pushing his heavy dark glasses up over his nose, he carefully opened the box and said formally, "Fellow classmates, over the weekend my family went up to the mountains for a camping trip. While we were hiking I found this bird's nest. See, it still has an egg in it."

The bird's nest was clearly destined to be a bigger hit than the mood ring until Prudence cried out, "Oh how could you! Don't you think that the poor mama bird is looking all over for her egg? It has her baby inside."

Admiration changed to anxiety as Prudence's words sunk in. Guiltily looking from the faces of his classmates to the nest, Alan did not know what to say.

To help him out Laurel replied, "Perhaps the mama bird forgot about her nest. It looks like it could have been abandoned."

"But a mama bird would never leave her baby," insisted Prudence. Alan slowly the closed the lid on the box and sat down.

"Maybe if you put the nest in a tree then the mama bird can find it and everything will be alright," suggested Prudence. Alan looked up hopefully as the rest of the children nodded enthusiastically.

Oh, well, thought Laurel, as the hands began to wave around her again, at least Prudence was able to talk her way out of this one. Once again, Prudence was pumping her arm up and down so vigorously that Laurel decided to call on her just to end the distraction.

The little girl walked proudly up to the front of the room.

"I don't have a "show" today," she explained, "but I have a "tell." I am going to have a new sister."

For a moment there was silence in the room. Everyone knew that Prudence did not have a mother, since she had gone to heaven a few years earlier. No one had heard that the Professor had remarried. Prudence looked around, pleased with the effect that her announcement had had on the class, not to mention Miss Fielding.

Unsure of how to approach this, especially since she herself had dated the Professor a couple of times, Laurel carefully asked her, "And where are you going to get a sister from?"

"From Nanny of course!" replied Prudence. "After all, love makes a family!"

The children had heard a great deal about Nanny from Prudence and they all accepted this explanation as completely plausible. Too young to know otherwise, they only knew that Prudence's Nanny could make the most astonishing things happen. Prudence sat down and other hands began to wave in the air.

Laurel had a difficult time focusing, but after calling on all the kids who had wanted to get up to show and tell, she regained enough of her poise to get through the morning.

The children went off to lunch with their aide and she went off to the faculty room. There she sat paying no attention to the usual complaints and gossip of her colleagues, still trying to come to grips with Prudence's grand pronouncement.

The relationship between herself and Professor Harold Everett had been very casual. He was tall and handsome and a most thoughtful and interesting date. She had not really expected anything to come of it, knowing that she was not the only woman that he saw. Being new in town however it had been nice to get out and see and be seen. In fact she had just started regularly dating one of his friends from the university. Her interest in this situation was due to the fact that Prudence was her student, not that she had any feelings of jealousy.

Knowing both Nanny and the Professor and seeing the dynamic in the Everett home first hand she had never had any inkling that any kind of monkey business might be going on. While the two had an easy-going relationship, they kept a respectful distance from one another. It was evident that there were very clear professional boundaries. The intersection of the their lives was most obviously the children.

Nanny was also one of the most gentle and nurturing women that she had ever met. The children clearly basked in her loving warmth and were thriving. It was generally acknowledged around the school that Nanny's coming had gone a long way towards settling the Everetts down, especially Butch who was inclined to make trouble. She didn't think that it had crossed anyone's mind that there might be more to Nanny's relationship with the Professor than met the eye.

Still, it had become more and more evident this year that Nanny was stepping more deeply into the role of surrogate mother. No one had really thought twice about how much of his own responsibility as a parent, the Professor had begun to shift to her. Perhaps it was because it all happened so naturally. She knew the children as well, if not better, than he did. And it was clear to everyone that she was the more effective disciplinarian. Yet parental responsibility was a very long way from "wifely duties." Laurel's abstraction was not lost on her friends.

"Have a rough morning Laurel?" inquired Marcie Matthews. She had happily "traded up" from kindergarten to fifth grade at the start of the school year. After having taught Butch, her greatest fear was that he might reappear in her fifth grade class in a couple of years. Laurel had taken her position.

"Not really," answered Laurel thoughtfully. "But Prudence Everett said the most curious thing."

With a cheerful roll of the eyes, Connie Clement interjected, "And when are those Everett children not saying peculiar things? If I have to hear one more story about what Myrtle or Sebastian told Nanny, I think that I may scream."

Connie taught Butch in the third grade. Butch, like his sister, frequently regaled his classmates about conversations that Nanny had with the Everett family pets. Most often it was Waldo the dog, but Myrtle the guinea pig and Sebastian the rooster also got their due. She found it enormously amusing, even if it could get disruptive if the stories got too wild. But since Butch's pranks had made a sharp decline since Nanny's arrival she didn't question it. A little bit of fantasy was a small price to pay for order in the classroom.

"Well, tell us what she said," replied Marcie. "Now you have us curious."

Uncomfortable because of the unconfirmed gossip she was about to impart, but unable to keep it to herself she answered, "For show and tell today, Prudence said that she was going to have a new sister."

"And where is she planning to get her from? Is she going to advertise again?" Marcie remembered an incident from a few months ago.

"She says that Nanny is giving her one."

Even those teachers who were not a part of the conversation fell silent. This was incredible. Who would have believed it? The professor might be handsome and a bit of a ladies man, but he was a well-respected member of the academic community in town. And Nanny was a little offbeat in her demeanor but she had always come across as a very proper English woman. There had never been even a hint of such goings on in the Everett household. Considering the amount of traffic between the children's and the professor's friends, not to mention the fact that the children were always present it did not seem possible. However, while Prudence had been known to exaggerate, she had never outright lied.

Connie decided that it was just not possible. She would get to the bottom of this. "I'll just ask Butch, he'll be able to tell me."

"And just HOW are you planning to ask him?" inquired Marcie drily. "Do you really want to open up that can of worms?"

"Actually, I was thinking of directly asking him," Connie replied logically. "Before we get ourselves all up in a tizzy, we should really verify the story."

They all nodded in agreement. Connie should be able to diplomatically ask Butch without raising any red flags. He forgot things almost as soon as he heard them anyway. Butch was a more reliable source of information anyway. Prudence had a tendency to answer questions with circumlocutions, while Butch was pretty straightforward. And they really did need to know. Chances were that Prudence's classmates were going to bring the story home to their parents and the school needed to be ready.

At the end of the school day, Miss Clement stopped Butch from bolting out the door. Anxious to get away as quickly as possible, it was all she could do to hold him back.

"Butch, I have a question for you," she began.

"Yeah well, can you make it fast. I don't want to miss my bus," answered the boy restlessly.

"Butch, Prudence told her class today that she was going to have a new sister," Miss Clement started again.

Butch rolled his eyes and said, "Oh yeah, well that's just what she thinks."

"Just what she thinks?"

"Yeah, how does she know its gonna be a sister?"

The answer knocked Connie Clement back for a moment. "But . . ."

"Look, Prudence is just talking. She always wanted a sister and now she thinks that she is getting one from Nanny. I gotta go!"

"Wait! One more thing. Are Nanny and your Dad getting married?" she asked.

"Are you crazy?" Butch rolled his eyes again and flew out the door.

Connie took a few moments to collect herself and made her way to Laurel's classroom where the other teacher was cleaning up.

"Laurel," she said as she started to help her pick up wooden blocks, "I just had a talk with Butch Everett."

"And?"

"He confirmed what Prudence said. Prudence thinks that Nanny is giving her a sister only, as Butch says, it might not be a sister," replied Connie.

"Anything else?" Laurel asked.

"They have no plans to get married. In fact Butch told me that I crazy to suggest it," said she.

Both women looked at each other. This was big and there was bound to be trouble. There were many parents in the school who would no doubt be horrified, especially since it appeared that Nanny and the Professor did not plan to do anything to make the situation respectable. Both children had talked about a sister, but neither had said a word about a wife or mother until asked. And Butch had flatly denied it. Both children seemed to accept as absolutely normal the idea that Nanny would provide a sister (or a brother?) for them. What were they thinking?

This might be California in the 1970's but a certain a amount of decorum needed to be maintained, even in a progressive university town. It might be the age of free love and shifting moral standards, but that had never applied to the rank and file middle class. There were the children to think of and of course the Professor's own professional reputation. And what about a woman who would willingly step into such a role? What a terrible example for the children! Without missing a beat both women headed for the principal's office.

"Shall we go to park? asked Nanny of the four children.

"I don't feel like it," answered Trelawney. Nanny's younger sister was the most recent addition to the Everett family. New to the community and not yet enrolled in school, she still felt out of place among the children's playmates. Since the initial excitement of moving into the house, she had settled down a lot. As the Everetts had resumed their lives, pretty much the same as before, she was still finding her way. The loss of her parents weighed heavy on her thoughts. The quiet time that she had to spend alone, even when Nanny was present still gave her too much time to ruminate on the past and the tragic occurrences that had brought her to her new home.

Understanding as always, Nanny said, "That's fine, anyone else want to go?"

"I do," replied Hal and Butch, but Prudence was silent.

"Come on Prudence, you love to go to the park," encouraged Nanny.

"No," said Prudence thoughtfully, "I want to stay home with my new sister."

In a stage whisper she told Nanny, "I think that she is sad and I don't want her to be lonely."

Looking over at the forlorn figure huddled with her doll on the couch, Nanny agreed with a nod. She was pleased by the way that Prudence and Trelawney not only got along, but were also beginning to bond with one another. Both girls were highly imaginative and used to creating their own play worlds on their own. Now their creative energies joined in a most complementary way. Sometimes children such as this would find themselves competing for control of the narrative. Prudence and Trelawney never did.

Each inspired the other to greater flights of fancy and they reveled in each other's company. Nanny was often reminded of her own close relationship with her cousin Emmeline. In the past couple of weeks, in her own moments of reflection she was amazed that fate had brought these two similar souls together. The girls met the need of each other for an understanding companion and best friend. Not for the first time, Nanny realized that these two would have a lifelong friendship. Such friendships were rare indeed and that her two most favorite little girls in the whole world had discovered this degree of compatibility in one another lifted her own spirits.

In the past week it seemed that the person with whom Trelawney felt most at ease was Prudence. It seemed that Prudence was the only one who could draw her put from what Nanny was afraid were becoming moods of melancholy. Coping with her own feelings about the loss of their parents, she was more often than not unable to find the psychic energy needed to cheer the spirits of the child.

Of course Prudence was constantly reaching out. It was remarkable that the older girl was not bugged by the little hanger on, but Prudence was careful not to be too intrusive. She had developed a sixth sense as to when Trelawney was willing to be drawn out and when she really wanted to be alone. Her sensitivity to the other girl was a sign of her growing maturity. This meant that it was safe to leave the children home unattended. They would take care of each other, Trelawney as the older child and Prudence as the cheerful friend.

Thinking of this as she set out for the park with Butch and Hal, she didn't realize that her own focus on the two girls was about to distract her from the conversation that would set the tongues in town wagging for the next few hours.

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Two mothers were sitting on a bench chatting as the boys and Nanny entered the park with Waldo. Nanny sat down on a bench nearby with Waldo and pulled out her knitting, a garment of soft pink wool. The boys ran off to meet some friends to play ball. Nanny, although softly smiling as always, still looked stressed.

One of the women looked at the other and nodded, "Do you notice a difference?"

"It's hard to tell with that cape she always wears," answered her friend. "But she does look a bit troubled. And I do know what Debbie said."

"Yes, and Donnie said the same thing," the other affirmed. "Considering the situation, I am not surprised that she looks anxious."

"I still can't believe that Professor Everett isn't doing something about it," answered Debbie's mother. "Why I heard that just last weekend he had a date with one of his math department friends."

"I agree, you would think that he would have a greater sense of propriety. If the children know then he certainly does. I feel sorry for her really. How could any man be so thoughtless and how could any woman accept that kind of treatment?" responded Donnie's mother.

"Well, you know that they say that she did date "Swinging Sam" for a while. She obviously has no common sense where men are concerned. She might be very capable with the children, she clearly doesn't manage her own personal affairs so well."

"I'm going to say something. Maybe if we give her a little support, she'll stand up for herself and insist that the Professor do the right thing. Just because she is so sweet natured doesn't mean that she has to be naive as well," declared Donnie's mother.

Nanny looked up as the two women approached. The strain of the past few weeks was evident on her face. She looked tired, very much unlike herself. The two mothers passed a significant nod between them. Despite their outrage at the situation, they felt deep sympathy for the young woman. At a closer glance they could see not only anxiety, but also sadness in her eyes. Nanny read their sympathy, but not understanding the reason, smiled sweetly.

"Good afternoon Nanny," said Debbie's mother gently. "We heard your news and well . . . we just wanted to make sure that you were alright."

Recognizing the pair as mothers of children in Prudence's class at school she assumed that Prudence had been talking to the other kids about the changes at home. Of course she would tell the other children about Trelawney and how she had come to live with the Everetts. How kind of these women to approach her, when they barely knew her, so sympathetically! Gratefully Nanny replied, "I appreciate your concern. It has been a difficult last few weeks."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Donnie's mother saw an opening for prying for more information.

"Not really," sighed Nanny, so lost in her own thoughts that she missed the hint of maliciousness in the undertone. "You know these things are very difficult to discuss. But everyone is being most kind. You know, not expecting too much from me. The children have been especially thoughtful."

"Well, I can imagine they would be. This is about them as well."

"Oh perhaps not directly," replied Nanny. "But you know how children are. They tend to feel responsible for making things right. But there are some things that just cannot be made right. One must accept the changes in one's life and move on."

Neither woman knew how to answer that. Here was this seemingly intelligent and independent woman accepting what either of them would have regarded as an impossible situation with grace and equanimity. If she weren't being so brave about it, they would think that she was a fool. But what could she do? She seemed at the mercy of her employer. Nanny bent her head again over her knitting, not wanting the ladies to see the tears in her eyes.

However the two didn't miss a thing. Sensing that Nanny didn't want to talk any more and not wanting to make her feel any worse, they bid their farewells. Looking at the knitting, Donnie's mother asked, "What are you working on?"

"Oh it's the beginning of an afghan. Isn't the color lovely?"

Once again not knowing what to say to that, the women quickly returned to their bench. As soon as they were far enough away they continued to discuss the conversation at length. Whatever was going on, it seemed that despite the fact that Nanny appeared to be holding up well she was very fragile. Before they parted, they agreed that Nanny's privacy must be respected and they would not breath a word to anyone else.

However by eight o'clock that night telephone lines were burning up all over town. Professor Everett had gotten Nanny "in a family way" and in addition to not doing anything about it, he was continuing to see other women. Yet Nanny was stoically accepting the circumstances and the children (who obviously didn't know what to think) were accepting their new future sibling as if this sort of thing happened every day.

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By the following morning, word had reached the ears of members of the university community, including some of the Professor's colleagues in the Math Department of the wicked rumor. They knew Hal Everett well, some from the time before he lost his wife. They could not believe that he would behave so badly. They also knew Nanny. They knew of the assiduous care that she gave to the children and how she had pulled the family together when things had reached a very low point. It seemed incredible that Hal would treat her so callously.

That he would be attracted to her was no mystery. She was beautiful, warm, and caring. It must be hard living under the same roof with such a woman and not to have "awkward" feelings. And he had clearly shown that he was jealous when "Swinging Sam" began to pay attention to her. He had even left a faculty function early to check up on her when she was spending time alone with him at the house. While he had insisted it was because he didn't want to lose her as a housekeeper, Maureen Peters had always sworn that it was something more.

But thinking about one's housekeeper in that way and actually acting upon it were two very different things. He had never even given the slightest indication of personal interest in her. In fact, half the time she seemed to drive him nuts with her quirky behavior. But perhaps that was the root of the attraction. How often had a relationship developed from unlikely beginnings? But this?

Shaking his head Dr. Pulski wondered why he hadn't just taken a cold shower or gotten out of the house. Not entirely trusting the story that his son had brought home from school the day before and thinking that the stories his wife had told him were malicious gossip, he decided to confront the man himself. Perhaps he could persuade him to make it right by doing the honorable thing. It's not like it was such a bad option. As long as the woman was living in the house he might as well enjoy it, as long as everything was on the up and up. And she certainly was a knockout.

Seeking out his colleague, he caught him as he was about to enter his classroom door.

"Hey Hal, you got a minute?" he called as he ran up.

Hal Everett looked at his watch and said, "Just a minute."

"Look Hal, Martin told us about Nanny and . . ."

"I really don't have time to discuss this now. We've been doing everything that we can around the house for her to make things easier, but this is really her issue. Now if you don't mind . . ."

Professor Everett rushed through the door and in his haste slammed it a little harder than perhaps he intended.

You son of a bitch, thought his friend. I never would have believed it. What the hell had happened to him? Her issue? This was not the Hal Everett that he had known all these years. He turned and rapidly made his way to the Math Department office, to talk with the Head.

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At home Nanny had no idea of the happenings outside the house. As she and Trelawney were eating lunch the phone rang. It was the principal of the children's school.

"Nanny, could you come down this afternoon for a chat?"

"Certainly," Nanny answered. "Is anything wrong with one of the children?"

"No," said the principal slowly. "But we have a situation here that we need to talk about."

"Alright, I'll be over once I have finished my lunch."

Hanging up the phone, Phoebe turned to her sister, "I wonder what that was about?"

"What?" asked Trelawney.

"I haven't the vaguest," answered a puzzled Nanny. "The principal wants to speak to me, but she won't say why."

"Did Butch do anything?" asked the girl.

"I don't think so. She said that nothing was wrong with the children."

"Oh well, when are you going?" asked Trelawney.

"Right after lunch dear," answered Phoebe. "I think it would be good if you came with me. Your school records will be arriving any day now from England and your student visa application is almost complete. Hopefully we can enroll you soon. Would you like to see your new school?"

"Oh yes," said Trelawney. "I'm getting tired of sitting at home all the time. I hope that I can make some new friends."

"I am sure that you will," replied her sister warmly. "How could anyone resist becoming friends with a Figalilly?"

In about an hour, Nanny and Trelawney entered the school building where they were greeted by the principal, Mrs. Harper.

"And who is this young lady?" she asked.

"This is my sister, Trelawney Rose Figalilly. She has come to live with me here in America. Once we have her school records and her immigration status settled, I will be enrolling her in school. She just wanted to have a bit of a look around. Would that be possible?" asked Nanny.

Mrs. Harper looked distinctly uncomfortable, but it was nothing compared with what she felt. With a sinking feeling she realized that her staff members might have started the vicious rumor that was flying all over town, not realizing that there indeed was a change of living arrangements in the Everett household. Knowing Prudence and her desire for a sister it was entirely plausible that she had decided to "adopt" Nanny's. Nanny had clearly not heard it or she wouldn't be standing there so calmly.

"Why of course, but first would you like to come into my office?" She looked over significantly to the hovering secretary who was clearly eavesdropping. The secretary turned away and pretended to be shuffling papers.

"No problem, come along Trelawney dear," replied Nanny.

"So Trelawney," asked the principal as they sat down. "What brings you to America?"

Trelawney looked at her older sister, Nanny patted her hand and answered for her.

"I am afraid that Trelawney and I have had some recent sadness. My parents were in an accident back home. It was very sudden and now Trelawney needs to be with me."

Trelawney added in, "The Professor has been very kind and allowed me to stay with the family at home. Prudence is especially excited. She looks upon me as her new sister."

Trelawney and Nanny shared a smile. They fortunately did not see the look of guilt and shock on Mrs. Harper's face.

Nanny turned back to her, "Now you said that you needed to speak with me about something?"

Mrs. Harper quickly recovered herself and said, "Well, we had heard of your troubles. We wanted to know if there is anything that we could do?" she stumbled a bit, "to help with the children?"

"Oh no," said Nanny warmly. "Why the children have really been quite wonderful. It was so kind of the Professor to open his home to my sister. We are both very lucky to have found such a marvelous family. There are not many like them you know."

"Yes I do know," replied Mrs. Harper, thinking of the busybodies who had been calling her all morning. "As long as you are sure that there is nothing we can do right now, then I'll let you go."

Turning to Trelawney she said kindly, "When you are ready to start school, then we will be ready for you. It will be a big transition for you to come from a school in another country, but we will do our best to make it a smooth one."

"Thank you, ma'am," responded Trelawney. "I will do my best not to cause any bother."

She looked innocently at her sister, who tried to stifle a grimace but didn't quite succeed. She suspected that Mrs. Harper had no idea of what she was in for with Trelawney in attendance at the school. Butch might suddenly acquire a halo.

After the Figalillys had left the office, Mrs. Harper called in her secretary.

"Call an emergency staff meeting this afternoon right after school. And no one, do you hear? NO ONE is excused?"

"Is something wrong?" asked the secretary eagerly. Reading the maliciousness in her face Mrs. Harper felt a bit sick. Oh how she hated gossip in the building. And now her school was responsible for dragging the name of a poor woman who had recently lost her parents through the mud. Not only that, but this was one of the kindest, sweetest women that she had ever met. Considering what she had been through and was still going through, she was determined to set things straight as soon as possible.

"Sorry to disappoint you Shelley," she said sternly, "but everything with Nanny and the Everetts is fine. The only thing that is wrong is that this school has instigated in some very slanderous talk over the last twenty-four hours and we need to put a stop to it NOW."

Shelley knew better than to question her further. She immediately went to the loudspeaker to announce that all teachers and staff were required to stay after school for a mandatory meeting.

At the university, Professor Everett was sitting in one of the most extraordinary meetings of his career. He could not believe what he was hearing from the dean and his department head. How could they possibly think such a thing about him?

Whenever Hal Everett thought of Nanny, his feelings fought with his more logical instincts. Anyone could see that she was beautiful, sweet, and kind. Since word had come of her family tragedy, his protective nature had come to the fore. He had willingly accepted her younger sister into his home as a member of his family in order to keep her with them. What could he possibly do with the children without Nanny? But then he realized that he really hadn't told anyone at work about the household shake up. He had been so busy trying to balance work and the situation at home that he had not had time for personal discussions. And Trelawney never left the house.

Despite the fact that he could understand how the confusion had arisen, he still did not believe that anyone who knew him well could infer from a half-baked remark by Prudence that he would EVER treat a family member in this way. The idea that he would take advantage of their living circumstances was unthinkable. But even if he had the next assumption that he would behave in such a dishonorable way as to heartlessly continue to date while she was pregnant with his child was beyond ludicrous. He was no monster and such actions were nothing less than monstrous.

Fortunately, both men had worked with Hal long enough to know him for the man he was. They had been rather uncomfortable bringing the whole matter up, but they had to face down the rumors too now. They were deeply apologetic. Here was a man whose nature was so generous that he had opened his home to an orphan child and his reputation was in tatters. Such things were not easily fixed, but they would do their best. At the dean's suggestion, Nanny and Trelawney would join them for lunch tomorrow in the faculty dining room. A family event was coming up in a couple of weeks and Hal could be sure to bring the family and make a prominent appearance there.

It would be the responsibility of the children's school to set things right there. Hopefully within a week or two things would have died down and folks would find someone else to rake over the coals. They watched as their friend stood up in a daze and prepared to leave.

"Hal, I'm really sorry about this," apologized the dean for the tenth time. "But you know when you hear these things you have to confront them. I'm just glad that we got to the bottom of this quickly. Personally, I would never have believed it of you and I have always prided myself on my ability to know and understand my colleagues. I hope that you can forgive me."

"Same for me, Hal," added the department head. "Angry as I am at Pulski for starting this, I'm glad he came to me immediately. He really is your friend. If you two had had time to talk I am sure that you could have cleared things up, but he came to me out of concern for you. This whole thing was so unlike you. We were all just afraid that something was terribly wrong."

"I appreciate your vote of confidence gentlemen," replied the Professor with dignity. "Nanny is the finest woman I know and that anyone could think that I would treat any woman so disgracefully, especially her, is just downright disturbing. If you consider the magnitude of her loss, this gossip can only make things worse. I just hope that I can get home and tell her before anyone else does. It would be terrible for her to face it alone."

"Well don't worry Everett, it will all blow over soon," replied the dean.

After the Professor had shook the hands of both men and exited they sat down again. They looked at each other with mild astonishment.

"Who'd have thought?" began the department head.

"You would have thought that we hit him with a lightening bolt. Underneath that controlled exterior I think that he is very angry. He clearly cares a lot about her," answered his friend.

"Something tells me that he doesn't realize it."

"Definitely not," said the dean.

"I wonder if she's aware of it?"

"Who knows? She's working there, but with all those kids and now one more it must be a handful. With everything on her mind right now she may not have picked up on it," replied the dean.

"Well, I've known Everett for a long time," answered the department head. "I know that he's had big problems with housekeepers in the past and that Nanny is the first one get the kids in line, but I suspect that this isn't just about the kids."

"I'm on the same wavelength," agreed the dean.

"Well, it will be interesting to see how things unfold over the next few months," answered the department head.

"As long as I can stay on the sidelines it will be very interesting," said the dean, "But from now on I'm keeping out of it."

"Me too. Everett's going to have to figure this one out on his own."

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The instant that the Professor walked in the door he called a family meeting. As everyone sat in front of him expectantly, he suddenly found himself at a loss for words. Since not even Nanny (for once) knew what he was going to say, he didn't know where to begin.

"Well, I don't know if you are aware of it, but rumors about this family have been flying around town at the speed of light," he said. His tone was clearly angry but it was difficult to know where or at whom that anger was being directed.

Now that he had jumped in he proceeded quickly, "There has been a great deal of gossip that was started when you, Prudence, told your class that you were getting a new sister, courtesy of Nanny."

He stopped for a minute to let that sink in. It took barely a minute for everyone but Prudence to understand what he meant. Nanny turned a bit pink and he was sorry that he hadn't spoken to her privately, but he also hadn't wanted to face her with it alone. It was cowardly, but the subject was too uncomfortable to discuss without someone else present.

Trelawney strangled a little laugh, but got serious after a sharp glance from her sister. Hal and Butch looked at each other and did their best to hide the grins that were beginning to creep onto their faces. Butch recovered first and rolled his eyes.

"I told Mrs. Clement that Prudence wasn't getting a sister. Why didn't she believe me?"

"And what else did you tell Mrs. Clement?" inquired the Professor.

"Well she did ask me if you and Nanny were getting married. I told her she was crazy," responded his son truthfully.

"But I AM getting a new sister," said Prudence, eager to defend herself. "Trelawney is going to be my sister."

"Correction young lady, Trelawney is going to be LIKE a sister. For Nanny to give you an actual new sister, well . . . she, uh we, would have to uh . . ." the Professor stumbled as he tried to diplomatically explain things in front of all the children, not to mention Nanny herself.

Fortunately Prudence caught his drift, "Oh," she said in amazement. "But you and Nanny aren't even married. How could you . . .?"

Hal coughed. Nanny and the Professor looked away from the children, and each other. The older children were trying not to laugh.

"Maybe everyone thought that you were secretly married," suggested Prudence. "Are you?" she asked hopefully.

"NO!" shouted the Professor. "And don't you start that rumor either. I've never heard of anything so ridiculous. Nanny and I secretly getting . . ."

He realized that everyone was staring at him.

"Really?" commented Nanny meaningfully. Despite the revelation of the scandalous rumor she couldn't resist needling him.

"THAT'S not what I meant!"

"Well then what did you mean, Dad?" asked Butch curiously.

Nanny saved him. "I think he meant, Butch, that it is time for everyone to get his or her homework finished before dinner."

"But . . ."

"Have you even started your homework, Butch?" she asked.

"No ma'am," answered Butch reluctantly.

"Come on Butch, let's go upstairs. I'll even help you," Hal gave Butch's arm a tug and winked at him. Butch looked back, clearly disappointed, but followed his brother out.

Trelawney gave Prudence a friendly knock on the head and they got up to leave. As they climbed the stairs Trelawney's voice was heard saying, "Come along MY LITTLE SISTER. Let's see what we can do to annoy the boys while they are trying to work."

Before Nanny could say anything, Professor Everett retreated to his study to try and get some work done of his own. With a deep sigh Nanny went into the kitchen to mull over all she had heard in the last half hour or so. She didn't have much time to think before . . .

"NANNY! Will you tell these GIRLS, to get out of our room?" Hal's complaint once again distracted her. She rushed to subdue the battle before it began to bother the Professor. Maybe it was better that she didn't have too much time to dwell on the afternoon's revelations.

Later that evening, when the children were in bed and asleep, Nanny came into the study with a fresh pot of coffee. She noticed that the Professor was staring off into space. He didn't look like he was getting much work done, even though he had avoided dinner claiming that he had too much to do. It was obvious that he didn't want to face her.

Now that she was over the initial embarrassment of the day's revelations, she found it easier to talk about it. Since she did not spend nearly as much time out in public as the Professor did, she could put it out of her mind more quickly. Realizing that she was becoming more in tune with his thoughts again, she knew he needed, even if he didn't want, to say something. She stood before his desk as he looked at a pile of papers as if he was trying to read.

"I'm sorry for the trouble Professor," she said softly, not wanting to startle him.

But he wasn't startled. He looked at her in bewilderment. "I can't believe that anyone could think that I could . . ."

"People believe what they want to believe, particularly if it makes for a good story, and it brings someone else down. Remember that those same people were certain that I could . . . well, the same thing that you could. But we both know better, the children know better, and deep down everyone else knows better as well," she replied gently. As usual she forgot her own wounded feelings out of concern for him. She wanted to sooth his spirit. She could see that he had been deeply hurt by the insinuations and that he desperately wanted to protect her.

She was surprised that she could feel so warmly about that. Normally, she was fiercely independent and resented anyone who didn't think that she could take care of herself. However things had changed. Her grief had altered her in a way that she had not anticipated. His protective instincts where she was concerned seemed to have taken on a new meaning. For the first time in her life she wanted the protection of someone else. She turned so that he could not see the tears beginning to form in her eyes. She didn't understand it. It was kindness more often that thoughtlessness or meanness that could move her emotionally now. How often had she become weepy in the past few weeks? Too often, but if she could, she wanted to maintain the illusion of her own strength.

However the Professor knew better. He knew that she was hurting and that her pain was far deeper than anything a silly rumor could inflict. Despite being an adult, she was just as much an orphan as the little girl who now slept in his daughter's bedroom. He sensed her vulnerability, her need for a human, physical expression of comfort. He didn't like the thought of her crying alone in her bed. How many times after his wife had died had that been him?

He slowly stood up behind the desk and walked around it. Taking the coffee pot from her hand and safely placing it aside he drew her into his arms. He felt her warmth. She was so small and seemed so helpless. He marveled that she could reveal this side of herself to him. He wanted more, but did not want to shatter the trust and safety she had ascribed to his embrace. He held her as she wept. It seemed that once the dam was broken there was no end to the tears. But he knew the healing power of those tears and their source. Tears were a mental cry for sympathy and the need for human understanding. He knew that it would be best if he let her cry herself out. There was no Cousin Emmeline in the house to interrupt. In fact the house was still as it could possibly be.

For these past months, she had been the strength of his home. Now she needed for him to be her strength. He longed to be more and he believed that his motives were pure. He believed that he only wanted to return to her the emotional care and support that she had given him. But deep within himself he realized that he wanted greater closeness. More than protect her he wanted to shelter her from any pain and hurt. He also wanted her to turn to him when she felt so deeply sad, not because he happened to be there, but because she wanted HIM.

But at this moment he resisted the physical desires that were overwhelming him. He did not know how long they stood there, but finally her sobbing softly stopped. As her emotions quieted, she relaxed in his arms and rested comfortably against his body. Once her emotions were spent he realized how tightly she was clinging to him and that he had been stroking her soft beautiful hair. Once again he felt an overwhelming desire for her. But this was one of those moments that Emmeline had made him promise to guard against. Exercising every ounce of self-control he could muster, he pulled back. Her eyes were glazed with weariness and grief. Putting his arm around her waist he guided her from the study, down the hall, and up the stairs.

He walked her to her bedroom. At the door he let her go. He brushed her hair back from her face and kissed her softly on the cheek. It was a chaste kiss, almost paternal. He slowly turned and walked down to his own room, forcing himself not to glance back for one last look. He would leave her as he found her. As he had promised Emmeline, he would not take advantage of her vulnerability, her innocence and trust. It was only now that he acknowledged that Emmeline had been right to have him consciously make that promise. At this moment it gained the importance of a sacred vow. With a deep sigh he stepped into his bathroom and turned the shower on full blast, cold.

The End

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