I smiled at my niece, not really liking her at the moment because talking to her meant I was looking in the same direction as Jesse. “No, it’s real slime and it’s gross. Want to touch?”
Libbie clung to Jesse’s shoulders, flinching back with fake terror. “No! No! It’s a swamp monster!”
I watched Jesse’s face battle with not laughing at me and failing miserably.
“Hey, Jez.” His grin was wide enough to swallow a ship. “Looking good today.”
I shook my head, so glad that Amber was back with a Manchester Athletic towel that had seen better days. I pulled it round my body, too scared to actually touch my hair where that slime and probably a few living things were hanging around.
I was my very own ecosystem.
“Thanks, Jesse.” I looked at my brother, manifesting the idea of him falling in that pond. “Nate, I forgot to mention...”
He did his best to look like he wasn’t laughing at my expense. “What’s that?”
“I went through all our old photos and found some of you when you went through your anti-clothes stage.” I’d hidden all the horrendous photos of me, particularly when our mother thought she could do a better haircut than a professional.
Nate glared. “You got rid of those, though, didn’t you?”
I shook my head, giving Jesse a little conspiratorial smile. “Nope. Brought every single one with me.”
Amber sat back down, rubbing her growing belly. “How old was he when he went through this stage, Jez?”
“Nine.” I shook my head. “Not really any excuse, is there?”
I dripped off to the ground floor bathroom, totally ignoring my brother’s protests.
Being under clean water was a relief. I wasn’t one of those girls who had to look immaculate at all times; I wore no makeup more often than I did, and I was used to being on the move, therefore sweaty, most of the time. I was only twenty-eight, but I’d already had three different careers and currently would consider most forms of work to ensure I didn’t touch my savings from selling my party-planning business.
I could hustle, and you didn’t always have to look pretty for that.
I’d gotten back to Nate’s a few days ago after spending three weeks at our parents’, looking after their two poodle-mix puppies while our parents were cruising round the Med. Nate’s house had become my temporary home while I figured out what I was doing with my life. He’d needed someone to help with the girls while his new nanny could start, and I needed to avoid the disappointed look on my parents’ faces when I told them that I’d changed my mind about what I wanted to do with my life.
Again.
I actually did know what I wanted to do. I’d had the same ambition since I was nine years old and it hadn’t changed, but I’d only recently realised that I could do it as a job. Being at Nate’s gave me space and time to work on it without being pressured, because there was one thing my brother was good at and that was guarding things, which included me.
He still saw me as being his little, younger sister, and because he could — financially, Nate, his kids, and probably their grandkids, would never have money worries — he spoiled me.
Not that I was taking advantage. While I was here, I pulled my weight with the girls and the house, helping Amber as much as she wanted, and doing Nate’s social media. Before the season ended, I was their glue, holding the pieces together when Leon, the nanny, had time off, or the girls had different activities, making dinners, playing games, being a taxi service — my priority had been them.
I’d already had a quick rinse to get rid of the horrendous slime, then rinsed out the huge shower. Now, I was luxuriating — not hiding at all — in the hot water, Amber’s range of body oils had already been tested, and my favourite, a spicy rose scent, had been topped up.
If I was lucky, by the time I’d finished pruning myself, Jesse would’ve driven off into the sunset.
Driven.
Fuck. That was why he was here. Today was the day of his court hearing.
My heart rate rose to about what Nate’s was when he was saving a penalty. Jesse had been in court and I’d turned up in front of him covered in pond slime.
I tipped my head back under the ceiling shower head, rinsing through my hair again. Jesse had picked up points on his licence for speeding already. Then we’d had a conversation that hadn’t gone down very well with either of us, and he’d been caught speeding again on his drive home. Part of me felt responsible, even though it hadn’t been me behind the wheel.
I finished shampooing my hair, not able to relax now, wanting to know what the outcome of the hearing was. I dried off, towel-drying my hair and slapping on body cream so my skin didn’t feel like it was about to peel off an hour later, then I threw on a robe and headed off to the small suite of rooms upstairs that had become my domain to find some clean clothes.
I had a bedroom, en-suite bathroom and little sitting room which I’d converted into my writing den. The landing outside and the bedroom had the plushest carpet underfoot which would’ve been ruined by pond water, hence the need to use the big bathroom on the ground floor.
This space would probably be Libbie’s in the future, when she was old enough to want her own space and Nate wasn’t for letting her go far. My brother was like a ball pool: fun and playful, but with huge protective boundaries that did. Not. Move.
