5 years later, Laurent and Larry Read-Bourgeois and their two children, are living a seemingly perfect life. An unexpected, and traumatic event leaves them lost and bewildered, their perfect life now a nightmare. They keep their life, but can they...
You could hear the whining and huffing and puffing, and occasional swearing in Turkish from the front door, even though everyone was gathered in Larry and Laurent's en suite bathroom. Their three year old son, Kayden, had grabbed Papa's twists too hard, and had loosened a few, making them unruly and longer than Laurent's usually immaculately styled head of hair. And something clearly needed to be done, quickly, to remedy the situation.
"For God's sake, Laurent, keep STILL !" Leyla cursed at him again, steering his head roughly with both her hands to face the mirror for the umpteenth time. "You have to be still if you want me to help you."
"Ya abicim mizlanma, aaa bi dur, cocuk gibisin vallahi !" she cursed at him almost under her breath, but loud enough that Laurent knew she was mad at him. Unless she was teaching the children, when she spoke in her mother tongue, you knew she was mad --- Brother, stop whingeing, just stop, will you ? You're like a kid, honestly --- Leyla was running short of patience now. She glowered at him halfheartedly, yet unable to contain the smile on her face because of his childishness.
"I better not hear my children saying that" he pouted, having no idea what she said, or what it meant. He was enjoying his strop altogether too much.
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Leyla was Larry and Laurent's nanny. She had been with them since Kayden was a baby, as they had learned the hard way that maybe they needed help with two children under three. At that time, Laurent was travelling to London more frequently, and as Larry'd had a rough time with Kayden's birth, it was decided, even against his wishes, and even worse judgement, that with a careful choice, they would employ a full time nanny.
Leyla was recommended by a close friend, someone whose judgement they trusted, so that was even better. They didn't know if they could trust the agencies totally either. This was their children they were talking about, their babies, their heart, their life. And they were more than relieved when she turned out to be perfect.
She was Turkish/English, tall and willowy, a beautiful creature derived form Mother Earth herself. The fact that she was a former Miss Turkey wasn't lost on anyone either. She had golden, glowing skin, and long auburn hair that sprung from her head in long flowing waves, some in braids, some in dreads, some caught with gem encrusted jewelry. Her green eyes reminded Larry of the the girl on that iconic cover of that National Geographic Magazine, the piercing green that could unlock your soul and make you shiver.
From day one, she had been fantastic with their children. She was an earth mother, and her influence was far more reaching than with just Michaela and Kayden. With the kids she was patient and sweet, kind and softly spoken. In three years, the guys had never even heard her raise her voice. She played games with them, and took them to their respective activities, both of them learning ballet, of course, but also taekwondo, and she took Michaela to school. They visited museums and art galleries and parks. She taught them Turkish, and told them stories of her childhood. One of their favourite activities was a treasure hunt, of sorts, where it was imperative that Leyla found the best french patisserie in New York City. So twice a week, ( to go more often would be thought greedy, she mused ), she and the children would visit various cafes in search of the best croissant or cupcake, bringing home the worthy contenders for papa to try, and daddy, if he was lucky.
