Chapter 8: Defining Things

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The buzzer rang from the lobby, and Goldie picked up the house phone. They weren't expecting any deliveries.

"A Ms. McFaddon is here for Mr. Ormonde," the doorman announced.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Ormonde isn't home right now," Goldie told him, turning around to look at the girls as she spoke.

"She'd like to speak to you, Ms. Sorenson," the doorman said next.

"Um, okay," Goldie answered, mystified.

"Hello, there, are you the new nanny?" Kylie McFaddon's voice was brisk and energetic, like the photographs Goldie had seen of her.

"Yes, I'm Goldie."

"Goldie, that's right," Kylie responded with a tinkling laugh. "Listen, is Jeff gone for long?"

"No, he should be back within an hour or so. He just sent me a text not to put the girls down for their nap until he came back." Goldie waved to Genie, who was looking at her alertly.

"Wonderful. Would it be okay if I came up and waited for him, then? I really wanted to see him. I need to ask him a quick question."

Goldie was silent. What was she supposed to do? It wasn't her apartment, after all. But Kylie McFaddon wasn't some stranger, she was famous, and Jeff's friend.

"I'd love to see the babies as well," Kylie added, a shade impatiently.

"Okay, sure, come on up," Goldie said, shrugging, though no one could see her but the girls.

"Great. See you in a sec."

Goldie waited near the door to let her in, throwing the bolt and opening the door when she heard the knock.

Kylie McFaddon was a model who had recently branched out into cosmetics and acting, basically becoming her own brand and very rich and famous in the process. It was a little intimidating to see her in person. She was tall, dark haired, with miles of long legs, very chic. She made Goldie feel more like a little round Dutch doll than ever.

"Hello there, you must be Goldie," Kylie said, extending an elegant hand.

"I am, nice to meet you," Goldie responded.

Kylie went to the kitchen and got herself a bottle of water before sitting down on the sofa, while Goldie went back to her spot on the floor with the babies.

Pippa had pulled the blanket around herself and gotten twisted in it. Goldie laughed and untangled her, straightening out the blanket before laying the baby down on top of it again.

"There you go," she said, patting Pippa's little bottom.

"Isn't she a cutie?" Kylie remarked. "Now which one is that? Genie?"

Goldie shook her head. "No, Genie is the blonde. This is Pippa, brown hair, blue eyes."

"And what's the other one's name, again?"

"That's Jemma, brown hair, brown eyes."

"Right." Kylie laughed. "I don't know how you keep them straight. I mean, triplets, you know?"

"Well, it's not like they're identical or anything," Goldie said mildly. "They look no more alike than regular sisters."

"But all girls, all the same size? All babies look alike to me," Kylie said, unscrewing her water and taking a sip.

"Surely not Jeff's?" Goldie asked, staring at the other woman. Why had she asked to see them if she felt this way?

"Well, no, of course not Jeff's. I mean, these aren't like most, are they? Most babies are just smelly and cry all the time, but Jeff does a marvelous job keeping them quiet and clean, and now of course he has you—" Kylie smiled at Goldie.

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