Nanny Undercover

Epilogue

Six months later.

"Genie, watch out, please, look at the little boy coming down the slide," Goldie called.

Genie, hearing Goldie's words, turned, and saw the boy just in time. She moved out of his way, thereby avoiding a painful collision.

It was early November, and, after a spate of extremely cold and windy days, New York City had been gifted with blue skies, white puffy clouds scudding across it from west to east. It was still cold, but not unbearably so. Jeff and Goldie had decided to take the kids to the local playground; after all, who knew when they'd get out of the house next?

Everyone was all bundled up, including the baby, who looked like a tiny Michelin Man in his puffy, down romper. He was currently napping, nestled against his father's front in a little carrier. The light breeze blew his wispy brown hair around his cherubic, sleeping face. His eyes were brown as well, and he looked like a very young, very chubby version of his father.

"I should've known he wouldn't look like me at all," Goldie joked. "With my pale hair and eyes, I'm just a walking, talking recessive gene."

"I don't know about that." Her mother, who'd been visiting, said. "He has your ears, and the shape of his mouth is all you when you were a baby. Look." She pulled out her phone and brought up a baby picture of Goldie.

"Your mum's right, except for his coloring, he's the absolute spit of you," Jeff had declared.

Goldie looked at the baby, who rested his cheek comfortably on his father's chest.

"Alfie," she crooned. "Sleep well, baby Alfred."

Jeff put his arm around Goldie as they watched the girls play. They were involved in deep conversation with a little girl with brown curls all over her head, though Jeff and Goldie couldn't hear what they were saying. The girl appeared to be a bit older than them, maybe three years old.

"What's your name? Mine's Thomasina."

"Genie."

"Jemma."

"Pippa."

Thomasina nodded seriously. "And where's your daddy? Mine's over there." She pointed to a bench, where a man waved to her.

"Daddy holding baby Alfie," Genie informed her, pointing at the bench.

"I have a brother, too, but he's bigger than me. His name is Jacob," Thomasina responded.

 "Who's that with your daddy?"

"Goldie."

"And where's your mommy? Mine's at home resting."

"Mommy?" Pippa repeated. Her brow furrowed at this new word, and she turned worriedly to her sisters.

"Yeah, you know, the lady who lives with you and takes care of you and loves you and everything?" Thomasina was all eyes as she waited for their answer.

Pippa's brow cleared. "Goldie mommy," she declared, nodding, hair bouncing.

"Goldie mommy," the other two girls declared in agreement.

Just then, Thomasina looked beyond them and her small face broke out in a grin. "Mommy, you came! Did you rest enough?" And she ran to her mother, the triplets forgotten in her excitement. She hugged her mother around the legs, saying, "Mommy! Mommy!" over and over.

Pippa, Jemma and Genie looked at each other and then they, too, were running on their nearly two-year-old legs toward the bench where their parents sat.

Jemma arrived first. "Mommy," she said, patting Goldie's legs.

"Mommy," Genie echoed.

"Mommy," Pippa said, climbing up on the bench next to Goldie and patting her shoulder.

"Oh my god," Goldie said, turning to Jeff. "Did you hear that?"

"I did, I did," he answered with a grin.

"Goldie crying," Genie noticed with concern. "Ouchie?"

"No, Goldie's just happy," she assured the worried toddler. She turned once more to Jeff. "Would you mind? If they called me—that?"

Jeff shook his head, one hand resting protectively on Alfie's bottom. "Not at all. I was going to suggest it, but I didn't know how you'd feel about it," he admitted.

"I love it, I'd love it," Goldie said fervently, wiping her eyes. She put a hand on her chest as she looked around at the three girls, two brunette and one blonde, all three unutterably lovely and dear to her. "I'm your mommy," she said, nodding.

"I'm your mommy."

"I love you," she said to all of them, looking from one tiny face to the other.

"Love you, mommy."

"Love you, mommy."

"Love you, mommy."