Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 60081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
Okay, Wren texts. My break is almost over anyway, but don’t take any guff from this guy. If he’s a creep, quit. I can help you find a new job. I can think of four families off the top of my head who are desperate for full-time childcare, and life’s too short to work somewhere you don’t feel comfortable.
She’s right, and maybe I should consider quitting, but the possibility doesn’t sit well with me. I already adore Sarah Beth and my gut says she needs me, that I can bring a kind of joy to her life that she’s been missing. And what better work is there than to make a child feel safe, seen, and happy?
I reply, Thank you, but I can’t quit. Like I said, the little girl is a sweetheart, but she’s been through some hard times in her life already. I think she needs me, and the dad isn’t a creep. He’s actually amazing.
Wren sends a puzzled emoji. I’m confused but intrigued. Meet me at six at The Root and Barley? It’s a bar downtown, next to the library. They have two-dollar drafts and discounted chef salad until seven.
Telling her that sounds perfect, I wish her a great rest of her day—with no more emergency C-sections in it—and listen to my audiobook until it’s time to get Sarah Beth up at three-thirty.
When I tiptoe into her room, whispering, “Miss Sarah B, it’s time for tea. Wake up and come play with me,” she wakes up with a smile on her precious little face and mumbles, “You’re still here. I was afraid you were a dream,” and seals my fate.
In that moment, I silently vow to be here for her as long as she needs me.
I sit down on the edge of her small bed, saying, “Nope, I’m not a dream. And I’m going to be here every day except Saturdays and Sundays. So, you’d better get used to me, buddy.”
She grins wider, making her dimples pop. “Okay, buddy. Can we really have tea? Daddy says it’s too hot for little kids.”
“I’ll make sure it’s not too hot and we’ll have a tea party with Ajax and friends before we do afternoon crafts. I don’t know about you, but I need a little time and tea to wake up after a nap before I jump into making art.”
“Me, too,” she says, sitting up and wrapping her arms around my neck, sighing as she relaxes into me with a trust that makes my heart ache. “Carry me downstairs?”
“Of course,” I say, picking her up, cradling her warm body in my arms as I head for the stairs. “My pleasure.”
By the time we finish our tea and make a huge mess glitter gluing wooden shapes together to make a tribe of tiny elves, I’ve decided Sarah Beth is the most adorable child ever to walk the face of the earth. She’s just so sweet and creative and eager to soak in the magic of the world.
I hope she stays that way as she grows up, and I hope I’m there to see it, to nurture it.
Maybe Drew was right. Maybe it’s best not to put this at risk.
After all, my relationships with men always go to shit, sooner or later, but there’s no reason I can be a loving force in Sarah Beth’s life for the long haul. I know plenty of childcare providers and nannies who keep in touch with their kids for years, all the way until they’re grown-up and starting families of their own.
The attraction—and loss—I feel when I’m with Drew will fade, with time.
Or so I tell myself when he arrives home at five-thirty, sending Sarah Beth running for the door, shouting, “Daddy, we had such a good day. I had chicken nuggets for lunch, and we had a tea party and made elves and Tatum’s going to come back tomorrow! She’s going to come back every day except Saturday and Sunday!”
“That’s awesome, kiddo.” Drew casts a glance my way over her head. Just making eye contact with him is enough to make my tummy flip. “Thanks, Tatum. Sounds like you knocked your first day out of the park.”
I grab my duffel bag and backpack from beside the couch, where Sarah Beth and I were just starting The Princess and the Frog. “Easy to do with a great person like Sarah B. I can’t wait for gymnastics class tomorrow. Are you going to teach me to do a cartwheel? A backflip? Two backflips?”
Sarah Beth giggles as I come to meet her and her dad at the door. “No, silly. I can’t do a backflip, but we can do front rolls and back rolls and jump in the foam pit. Jumping in the foam is the best part. You get to do it three times if you’re good during the rest of class.”