Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
“S-I-L-L-Y C-A-M-P. Was it called that?”
“It should’ve been,” I say. “But my mommy doesn’t want to leave. So I don’t see her.”
“I don’t see my mommy either,” Emery says quietly.
“Oh,” I murmur, not wanting to pry. If she wants to share, I’ll listen, but it’s not a nanny’s job to go searching into the family history.
She looks down at her coloring book, talking absentmindedly. “I don’t really remember her, but sometimes I get sad. I want a mommy, and I want her to love me. At school, I see the other girls, and they all have mommies. And sometimes I ask my friend Jessica if her mommy can be mine too. She laughs, and I laugh as well. Because it’s a joke.” She says this as if convincing me. “But, yeah…” She shrugs. “Maybe you can be—”
“How’s the coloring going?” I cut in, rudely interrupting her.
But I don’t want her to say what she was clearly about to. I don’t want her to tell me that maybe I could be her mommy. Then I’d have to shoot her down, and that would hurt her too much. I’ve already crossed one professional boundary today. I’m not going to cross another.
“Are you really good friends with your daddy?” she says, ignoring my question. “Like how me and Daddy are, he’s my daddy. But he’s my friend as well.”
“We’re getting there,” I tell her.
“Where?”
I smile. “I mean, yes, we’re building a friendship. In fact, I’m actually helping to pay for his apartment while he gets on his feet. That’s one of the reasons I was so happy to get this job.”
“Whoa. That’s really cool. So you’re like your daddy’s daddy.”
I laugh. She’s so adorable I could melt. Part of me wishes I could rewind time and let her comment on me being her mommy, but it simply wouldn’t be acceptable. “Yes, I guess that’s one way to put it.”
“Mommy might come back one day. And she’ll say, Let’s go make a story. And I’ll say, Nah-uh, I’m going to make a story with Daddy and Callie. And then she’ll say, I’m really sorry. And I’ll say, Nah-uh, no takebacks.”
My heart breaks, especially with the casual tone she uses. She doesn’t understand how devastating her words are. She doesn’t know how upsetting it is for her to be able to describe such awful family dynamics, such abandonment, without any pain. But this is normal for her, just like it was for me as a kid.
She looks up, her face lighting up. “Ha ha. Hey, Daddy!”
I turn. The red light on the camera is on. How long has he been watching?
Chapter Seven
Gray
That evening, we spend time in the backyard. I read a novel as Callie and Emery walk around naming all the plants. I do my best to focus on the words, to try and lose myself in the story. It’s a thriller, and, usually, I can sink into these narratives quite well. But it’s impossible not to look up from the make-believe world and watch Emery beaming up at Callie, Callie smiling warmly down at her.
Soon, Callie carries Emery to the hammock. My daughter can fall asleep in the time it takes to blink. Callie walks over to me, sits down, and picks up her Kindle.
“I lost that video,” I say.
She looks up and chews at her lip. I wish she’d stop doing that. But I also wish she’d never stop. “Huh?”
“The workout video,” I murmur. “Turns out my phone wasn’t recording.”
“Oh, that’s okay.”
“Yeah.”
An awkward silence stretches between us. Callie is wearing pale blue jeans and a shirt knotted just below her cleavage. It’s casual attire, not like she’s trying to blow my mind. But she does. Every single moment, she floods me with fantasies and inappropriate thoughts that I definitely shouldn’t have about my child’s nanny.
For a few minutes, we both read. Or try to. Or pretend to. I glance over at her a few times, watching the way she smooths her hair from her face and how her eyebrows furrow. There’s something so gorgeous about her face when she’s concentrating.
“What’s your book about?” she asks after a while.
“I’m not even sure. I can’t concentrate.”
“Oh. Why not? Are you thinking about something? Maybe something you heard today?” She takes a breath. I can tell she’s been working up to this, especially when she places her Kindle down and looks right at me.
“If you have something to say, Callie, you can say it,” I tell her.
She takes another breath. Her chest rises and falls. I’m a goddamn idiot. Or I’m becoming one. Even now, when she breathes like that, my gaze flits to her chest. I have to drag my mind out of the gutter.
“You heard me talking with Callie about her mom… and my parents?”
I nod. “I did.”
“I didn’t ask her anything about her mom.”