Six and Counting

       A/N: Hi, all. Thelovelywar  told me I'd better upload this story to this site. I wrote it a couple years ago, have revised it, and now here it is. I hope you enjoy this story. The characters have lived in my head a long time, and are very dear to me. Let me know what you think with comments. I answer all!        

              The garage door below started rolling up, squeaking a signal that the owner had returned home for the first time since Emily became his housekeeper five months earlier.

                “I guess I should have sprayed some oil on that door,” mused Emily to herself as she smoothed her black skirt and touched her white collar. Cocking her head, she listened for tell-tale sounds of her brood up above, hoping they would remain quiet until Mr. Shane McNeal settled in a bit. After all, five children under the age of ten were more daunting than the one she had admitted to having on her application.

                Within minutes the elevator doors in the foyer glided open, emitting Emily’s never- before-seen boss, the homeowner. Emily hurried forward, low heels clicking on the marble floor. Her first glimpse of Mr. McNeal proved to be very little like his book jacket photos. On those best seller covers he looked very cosmopolitan—almost smoking jacket urbane. The man before her sported snarled, collar -length, dark brown hair, stubble chin, ratty jeans, and a mismatched neck scarf wound around his throat. When their eyes met, her blue ones and his brown ones through tortoise-rimmed glasses, a serious jolt of awareness much like electricity shot through Emily. Stride faltering only slightly, Emily reached out with her right hand and greeted her boss.

                “Hello, Mr. McNeal. I’m Emily Wakeland, your housekeeper. How do you do?” 

                His eyes behind the glasses honed in on hers, but she didn’t miss the quick up-and-down sweep he gave her before clasping her hand in his warm one. After all, he’d hired her sight unseen, while she at least had his back cover pictures with which to acquaint herself.

                “Great, great. Nice to meet you.” After releasing Emily’s hand, the author clasped his together, shooting quick glances about his home. Eyes returning to her face, McNeal continued.

 “Hey, the place looks spotless from what I can see. Thanks for being so conscientious. It helps a lot when I’m in New York to know this place isn’t sitting here empty—“

A thumping noise from the floors above interrupted Mr. McNeal, sending his eyes upwards. In doing so, he missed Emily’s wince.

When his gaze returned to her he said, “Oh, yeah, you have a kid. How’s that working, with school and all that?” Unwinding his neck scarf, Emily’s boss tossed it onto his duffel bag and leaned on the counter to give her his undivided attention. The question sent Emily into mental euphoria, for living in the beach community of Corona del Mar in Southern California was a dream come true for her and her five children; a new start for her fractured family, even if it had taken lying to accomplish the move.

                Returning to her boss’ question Emily  replied, “We’ve settled in just fine. The school is fantastic, and this neighborhood is so awesome.” At this exact moment more thumping from upstairs erupted, and Emily rolled her eyes, hoping against hope that the kids would settle down.

 Her gaze met McNeal’s, whose eyebrows rose over his frames as he observed dryly, “Although I don’t have any kids, I’m pretty sure that’s more than one child up there. Is it a party?”

                Emily was tempted to grab the straw he had unwittingly offered, but the thundering became louder as it approached the kitchen area, and Emily threw in the towel as not one, not two, but five children appeared at her elbow, chattering while abruptly coming to a halt and staring at Mr. McNeal.