Page 2

Chapter two

Hazel James

Whatever you do, don’t cry. I suck in a shaky breath, paste on a smile, and walk out of the playroom to greet Mikayla. I’ve been nannying for Mikayla and Patrick Lawson since I graduated from college. I’ve loved taking care of their twin girls, Daisy and Tansy, but today is my last day. Patrick plays pro football and was just transferred to the Homewood Lions down in Alabama. They asked me to go with them, but Nashville has always had my heart. Plus, I couldn’t imagine moving so far away from my little sister.

So, I spent the whole day reining in tears while the girls–who are only six years old–have not-so-subtly tried to convince me to move. I’m going to miss them terribly, and I think I’ll miss their mom even more. Mikayla is less of a boss and more of a best friend. We’ve had sleepovers when Patrick was out of town, plenty of spa days, and spent almost every morning together since I started drinking matcha lattes on her back porch three years ago.

“There you are, I was just about to call out your name,” Mikayla says with a warm smile.

She sets her chic leather briefcase on the kitchen island and places her small red handbag next to it. Mikayla is an event organizer for a premier agency here in Nashville. She’s organized events too luxurious for me to even stand within a mile radius of. I know for a fact that she works hard and often spends her days running around venues and doing plenty of physical labor. Which is why it amazes me every time I see her at the end of the day. She’s in six-inch heels, a perfectly tailored pantsuit, and her hair looks like she just came from the salon.

Meanwhile, I’m in my signature overalls and sneakers, with a t-shirt that has tiny flowers on it underneath. I suppose we both match our professions, which helps me feel marginally less inadequate standing before her.

“The girls are playing with Play-Doh,” I confess. “I can stick around to help them clean up. I couldn’t tell them no today.”

It’s rare that we break out the Play-Doh. Daisy and Tansy tend to put it everywhere they shouldn’t. It gets stuck in the rug, their hair, and in the grooves of the table in the playroom. But when they looked up at me with matching doe eyes, I didn’t stand a chance. No amount of early childhood education can prepare you for puppy dog eyes.

Mikayla waves a hand. “Don’t worry about it. The housekeeper comes tomorrow for one last clean before we pack everything up.” She looks around the kitchen, a wistful smile on her lips. “I’m going to miss this place.” Her eyes meet mine. “I’m going to miss you.”

The dam holding back my tears bursts. I’ve always been a crier. My grandma says I have a sensitive soul and a big heart. Whatever the reason, I’ve never been able to hold back tears for long.

“I’m going to miss you so much,” I say through my tears, swiping at my wet cheeks.

I wish I could be as poised as Mikayla. Instead, I’m crying in her fancy kitchen in overalls. I look like the children I take care of–or used to take care of. The thought makes my tears come fast and hot.

Mikayla pulls me in for a tight hug. She smells like Chanel No. 5 and home . That’s what’s so difficult about her leaving. I’m a firm believer that home isn’t a place but rather a community of people. Mikayla has been a pillar in my life. She’s essential to the structural integrity of my emotional house. I don’t know what I’m going to do without her.

“I’m going to FaceTime you at least once a week,” she says into my hair, her voice thick with emotion. “And you can visit whenever you want. We’re going to visit too.”

I squeeze her tighter. “How am I going to start my days without our morning matcha talks?”

“Maybe your next boss will love matcha. I’m sure they’ll be so great you won’t even miss me.”

“Impossible,” I say as I pull back.

We both are wiping below our eyes now, and we giggle in unison at the mascara that comes off on our fingertips.

“Speaking of, I may have a lead on a job opportunity for you,” Mikayla says.

I sigh. I’m not ready to think about working for a new family, but I know I can’t put it off forever. Mikayla and Patrick gave me a generous severance package, but even that will run out eventually.

Mikayla walks over to the kitchen sink and wets two paper towels, then wrings them out, giving one to me before using the other to wipe her face.

“I guess I should look into that job,” I say.

She gives me a half-smile. “Or you could move with us?”

I let out a soft laugh. “I wish I could, but I don’t want to leave Raven. She needs me.”

Mikayla nods in understanding. “I figured I’d give it one more shot. You know you’ll always be welcome in our home.”

I wipe under my eyes, breathing deep so that I don’t burst into tears again.

“So, who’s the family?” I ask, barely able to get the words out around the lump in my throat.

“Patrick was talking to his agent, Brock, about the transfer and brought you up since Brock has so many connections. As soon as Patrick mentioned you, Brock said it was perfect timing. Apparently, one of the guys he manages needs a nanny. He plays for the Cowboys. His name is Emmett Foster.”

I grimace. I know next to nothing about baseball. I learned a lot about football while working for Mikayla and Patrick, but I’ve never been much of a sports person. The only reason I even know the Cowboys are a baseball team is because my dad loves the sport. He tried to get me into it as a kid, but I couldn’t stay awake. In fact, that’s what my parents started putting on the television when I was fighting a nap. To my dad’s dismay, it worked like a charm.

“Baseball is not my forté.”

“I don’t think it’ll matter that you’re not a baseball fan,” Mikayla says with a laugh. “He just needs you to take care of his daughter. Which, of course, you’ll be amazing at. I’ll send you the information. Apparently, Emmett’s mom is conducting the interviews, so that’s who you’ll reach out to.”

I frown. That’s odd. I’d think that Emmett or his wife would want to be a part of the interview process. “Well, I guess it can’t hurt to get an interview,” I say as I throw away my paper towel.

“Whoever you end up working for is going to love you. You’re the best nanny in the world, and the best friend a girl can have.”

I bite the inside of my cheek as tears burn my eyes again. “You’re the best boss, and the best friend in the world.”

We share another tearful hug. I go and give the twins a big squeeze before leaving. I’d say bye to Patrick, but he’s being interviewed for a sports segment on our local news about his departure. He and Mikayla did a lot of work in the community, so I know they’ll be missed by more than just me.

I pull away from their house, the electric gate shutting behind me as it’s done hundreds of times before. Only this is the last time. An aching void grows within me. I drive home with the radio off, the sound of my car on the asphalt breaking the silence. I wish I would just miss the Lawson family like the rest of our community, but it goes deeper than that. They gave me what I’ve longed for: a family of my own. When I took care of Daisy and Tansy, it helped soothe the sting of not having children myself.

All I’ve ever wanted was to have a husband and kids. But I’ve yet to meet a guy who has those same aspirations that I also mesh with. I’m twenty-five, and though I know I’m young, it feels like I’m rushing toward spinsterhood when I see all my friends from high school married with kids already, or at least with an engagement ring on their finger.

I let out a long, weighted sigh as I park in front of my apartment complex. Hopefully Emmett–or rather, his mom–will like me. The longer I’m alone, the bigger the hole in my chest will grow. That feeling isn’t one I’m fond of, so as much as I’m not ready to move on from the Lawsons, I need this job.