I lead Emma and Delia out to the front porch as Bridgette goes upstairs for a shower and Victor and Rafe begin to concentrate on their work today. As we settle into our chairs, I’m pleased to see Miss Georgia coming up the path.
Good, I think, smiling and waving to her. Now the boys will be distracted as well.
Georgia gives me a happy nod as she heads into the house, looking for the boys, and I pull my legs up onto the little loveseat as well, beaming at Delia and Emma.
“We’ll have some privacy now,” I say, smiling at them.
“Privacy,” Emma says, looking through the window at the house filled with people, “seems to be a…relative term. In this house.”
“Oh, it’s not so bad,” I laugh, tucking my hair behind my ears and shaking my head. “You get used to it – it feels…I don’t know. Like a
