Chapter 2

---

January 19, 2006

Rachel walked up to the door of the house and knocked. It was a beautiful January day and she could hear children playing inside. She smiled. The door opened and an obviously pregnant woman smiled at her and said, "Hi. Miss Daniels? I'm Tracy. Please come in."

"Please-call me Rachel," she said as she stepped into the house.

"Rachel." Tracy smiled and nodded. "Okay. My husband will be right with us. Would you like some coffee or tea?"

Rachel smiled. "No thank you."

The description Rachel had been given at the agency didn't fit what was happening. So obviously, the woman sitting opposite her was not going to be her employer. She wondered who was.

When Tim joined them in the living room, he quickly assessed the woman sitting with his wife. He'd already read the resume from the agency-she was more than qualified in terms of knowledge and experience. But that didn't always tell the whole story. Kids responded to externals and feelings as well, so he was looking for more than was in the resume. And she seemed to qualify there too-attractive face, long auburn hair neatly pulled back into a hair clip, slender build. He smiled. She kind of resembled Tracy in externals. Friendly-judging by the way she and Tracy were chatting-and when she looked up at him and he could see her eyes, he saw what he was looking for-warmth. He extended his hand to her.

"Miss Daniels, I'm Tim Richardson. I'm glad you were able to get out to see us today. We were getting a little anxious about finding someone for the children." He looked at Tracy. "Did you explain what's happening?"

"I wanted to wait for you, honey," Tracy said as she looked up at him.

Tim smiled down at Tracy and sat on the arm of her chair, putting his arm around her shoulders. "Well, Miss Daniels…"

"Please-as I told your wife-call me Rachel," Rachel said, responding to the warmth she sensed in the couple's attitude.

"Okay then, Rachel. Here's the situation. My brother's children have been staying with us while he's away, and while we'd like nothing better than to continue that arrangement, my wife's pregnancy has made that impossible from this point forward." He squeezed Tracy's shoulders affectionately. "Tracy's doctor has ordered bed rest for the remainder of her pregnancy, and I just don't have the financial resources to hire someone to look after all the children. So our wild Indians are going to stay with Tracy's mom, and my brother's two kids will need someone to look after them."

Rachel smiled. "How old are they?"

"Jemma's four and a half, and Aaron is nearly three," Tracy said.

"May I ask what happened to their mother?" Rachel asked hesitantly.

"She passed away shortly after Aaron was born from complications of the pregnancy," Tim said quietly.

Rachel nodded. "So he has no memory of his mother at all?"

"No, and Jemma doesn't really remember much either. They were living here, with their grandmother until about six months ago. They came to us when she passed away," he said smiling down at Tracy.

"Oh, the poor things," Rachel breathed. "And their father? I gather that he's away quite a bit."

Tim and Tracy looked at each other. "I'm afraid he's away as much as he possibly can be. He's never really come to terms with their mother dying, and he avoids them unless it's absolutely impossible to do so." He paused. "Look-I have to ask you now. Did the agency tell you who he is? Do you know who you'll be going to work for?"

Rachel shook her head. "All they told me was that the situation was delicate, and that I would have to be very circumspect."

"Well, they were right about that." He paused. "Rachel, my brother is Kevin Richardson of the Backstreet Boys. It's his children you'll be caring for."

Rachel's eyes registered her surprise. Now her discussion with the director made sense. She smiled at Tim and Tracy. "I want to assure you that it doesn't matter to me who he is-just that the children obviously need someone who can be there for them."

Tim and Tracy smiled and Tim nodded. "I think we've found the right person. When can you start?"

"I guess right away, since you've got to look out for this pretty lady here," Rachel chuckled. "When can I meet them? Are they here?"

"Yes, they are." Tim stood up. "Hold on a minute and I'll get them."

He stepped to the doorway and called out, "Jemma! Ari! Please come into the living room for a minute."

Moments later, they appeared in the doorway. A breathtakingly beautiful little girl with blonde hair and dark eyes; and a sturdy-looking three year old boy with the same dark eyes but black hair instead of blonde. They stopped short on seeing a stranger, but the little girl recovered quickly and, taking her brother's hand, walked quietly over to her aunt and uncle.

"Rachel, this is Jemma and Aaron. Kids, this is Miss Daniels. She's going to be staying here with you to take care of you," Tracy said gently. "Can you say hello?"

Jemma looked up at Rachel. "Hello, Miss Daniels." She turned to her brother. "Ri," she whispered. "Say hello."

Aaron sneaked a quick peek at Rachel and mumbled, "'Lo."

Rachel knelt down in front of the children. "Hello, Jemma. That's a beautiful name. It suits you." She paused. "Hi Aaron. It is Aaron, isn't it?" What name did you use, Jemma?"

"He's Ri," Jemma answered. "That's what I call him."

Tim smiled. "When Aaron was born, Jemma couldn't pronounce his name. She heard her grandma call him Ari, and Ri was all she could manage. He's been Ri ever since then."

Rachel nodded and smiled. "Well, Aaron, it seems like you have lots of names. Which one would you like me to use?"

Aaron looked down at the ground and then at Jemma. "Ask her," he whispered.

Jemma nodded and looked at Rachel again. "Are you married, Miss Daniels?"

Rachel grinned and held up a hand to stop the protests coming from Tim and Tracy. "No, Jemma, I'm not married. And if you like, you and Aaron can call me Rachel." Jemma nodded with satisfaction and turned to Aaron.

"Okay??" Jemma whispered to him.

Aaron looked up and solemnly said, "Nobody 'cept Jemma's 'posed to call me Ri. My name's Aaron." Tracy and Tim exchanged concerned glances.

Rachel smiled again and held out her hand. "Aaron it is, then." The boy hesitated and then took her hand to shake.

"Okay kids," Tracy said. "You can go back and play now. You'll see Rachel in the morning." Jemma scampered from the room with her brother in tow.

"They're lovely kids," Rachel said. "I'm sure we'll do just fine with each other."

"Aaron's going to be your problem," Tim said softly. Rachel looked at him questioningly. "Everybody in the family calls him Ari-everyone but his father. I don't know why he insisted on you calling him Aaron, but it's only fair that you know that."

"Thank you," Rachel said. "Is there anything else I should know about? Do either of them have any special needs?" She smiled again. "Other than a lot of love?"

Tim grinned. "I knew we'd found the right person." Then he grew serious. "Yes, there are a couple of things you should be aware of. Jemma's prone to nightmares, but we've always felt that was just the age. She misses her grandma." Tracy nodded in agreement. "Ari's very withdrawn at times, especially with adults. That could be the age too, but I think in his case he's dealing with some real issues." He took a deep breath.

"Okay. You're going to come up against it sooner or later. You need to know." He focused on a spot beyond Rachel and seemed to be seeing something not in the room. "Kevin hasn't ever touched his son," he said softly. "He's never held him, never rocked him to sleep, never comforted him when he cries. None of us know for sure, because he won't talk about it, but we think that he blames Ari for Kristin's death." His focus came back to Rachel.

"As surprised as I was that he insisted that you call him Aaron, I was even more surprised that he shook your hand. Generally, he doesn't want anyone to touch him. And you'll probably find that he won't want to touch you either. His grandma could do anything with him. He adored her. He's okay with the kids, and he clings to Jemma, but adults--? It took Tracy two months to get him to let her hug him-and he's known her all his life."

Rachel sat quietly, assimilating this information. "How often does their father actually see them?"

"If he shows up here twice in six months, it'll be a lot," Tim said. "And I don't imagine he'll stay for more than a night or two when he does show up."

Rachel's heart sank at his words. No wonder Aaron was so withdrawn. What a sad waste. The children looked like sweet, intelligent little people. But everyone needs someone to love. Aaron and Jemma had no one but each other. They both needed more.

"I'll be here tomorrow at eight a.m. with my things," she said firmly. "The sooner we get these kids into a routine that gives them some stability, the better off they'll be."

"Thank you, Rachel," Tracy said with tears in her eyes. "If I could have done it, I would have…"

"I imagine that everyone knows that," Rachel smiled. "But you have to look out for you and that new little one." Tracy looked like she needed as much TLC as the children did. She obviously loved Jemma and Aaron and was feeling a bit inadequate. "Can I call you if I need to ask questions?"

"Of course you can!" Tracy exclaimed. Tim looked at Rachel gratefully. "And we're only about twenty minutes from here by car, so if you ever need Tim to do something for you, all you need to do is give a holler."

"I'll do that," Rachel said. "And I'll bring them over to visit once in a while, too."

"That would be wonderful." Tracy sighed wistfully. "Our house is going to seem very empty, with both Kevin's and our kids gone. Please-don't be shy about visiting."

"We won't-I won't," Rachel assured her.

"We'll call the agency right away, Rachel. Let them know that you're starting tomorrow. And thank you again," Tim said with a grin. "This is a tremendous load off our minds."

As Rachel drove away from the house, dozens of thoughts were chasing each other around in her head. But the thought that was uppermost was that describing this situation as delicate had been a gross misstatement. Heartbreaking would be more accurate.

Chapter 3
Coming Home
Hosted Stories
Home