Kids Is A 4-Letter Word Read Online Free Page A

weather, John breathed a word of thanksto have acquired a nanny of her qualifications on such short notice. Both Miss Springston and Miss Anderson had left him in the lurch, but at last he’d found someone whom he could trust.
    He dialed again and Susan’s voice came on the line.
    “Just checking in,” John said, opening his pocket calendar on his knee. “Anything going on this afternoon?”
    “Mr. Tyler called around two-thirty about the zoning for the Standler Mall. He needs to talk to you ASAP.”
    Susan sounded especially nasal today, he noted with mild irritation, scratching abbreviated notes on any patch of white space he could find.
    “And Stewart phoned—he wants you to speak at the builders’ association luncheon next Thursday.”
    “Anything else?”
    “No, sir.”
    “Did Miss Michaels call?”
    “Oh,” Susan said with sudden recollection in her voice. “She quit.”
    John’s heart and pen stopped. “She what?”
    “She quit,” Susan repeated.
    John nearly dropped the phone, but juggled it back to his ear. “Wh-who’s with my kids?” he sputtered.
    “Jo Montgomery.”
    Recognition tickled the perimeter of his brain. “The interior designer?”
    “That’s correct.”
    In the past month, John had learned it was best to speak calmly and clearly when dealing with Susan, even when she didn’t Especially when she didn’t. He sighed. “Susan, start from the beginning.”
    “Miss Montgomery stopped by your home today, and apparently your nanny walked out while she was there. She couldn’t find anyone to watch the children, so she took them back to her office.”
    “You’re kidding, right?”
    “No.” Susan sounded very serious.
    Incredulous, John yelled, “You let a woman I don’t even know take my children away from my home and to her office?” An older man sitting next to him lowered his newspaper to stare. John passed his hand over his face. Too late, he realized he’d gone too far. The phone line fairly crackled with Susan’s indignation.
    “Sir, contrary to popular belief, a secretary is not the gatekeeper to her boss’s personal life.”
    John sighed again, this time contrite. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I can’t believe Miss Michaels just up and walked out.”
    “Yes, sir.” Susan cleared her throat. “Well, Ms. Montgomery said she’d take them back home after she met with a client, and asked that you meet her there as soon as possible.”
    “Thank you, Susan.” John hung up, annoyed and worried. He flipped to the back of his organizer to find Jo Montgomery’s card. Four times he dialed the number, only to receive a busy signal on each attempt.
    Never more than a split second from his mind, the children had crowded his brain all day, leaving less room than usual for demanding work pressures. John brought one hand up and absently stroked his chin. He missed Annie every day. Unbidden, hot tears pricked his eyelids, but he bit the end of his tongue hard and the moisture vanished just as quickly. Life goes on, he’d told himself a million times in the two years since her car accident.
    Moving from Atlanta to Savannah a month ago had been a good step for him and the children. Christmas in their new, empty home had been heartbreaking, but less brutal than last year in Atlanta. Jamie and Claire would enter new schools in a few days for the last half of the school year, and he’d promised himself he’d start looking for a suitable mother for his children as soon as possible. Someone like Annie…dear, sweet Annie, who wore bright aprons and made chocolate-chip cookies and gave puppet shows for all the kids in the neighborhood.
    John had met several women since Annie’s death, anxious to salve his deep wounds, but he hadn’t been able to conjureup an interest in most of them. The few who had warranted further consideration had soon proved themselves to be less than ideal mom material—most of them were too involved with their own career. Three months ago, his sister,