Page 6

Chapter six

Emmett Foster

A week has passed since Hazel was hired, and my parents are now officially in Europe. After months of planning–unbeknownst to me–they’re living out their dreams of traveling the world and leaving me behind to worry about June staying with someone I don’t know. Not that I fault them at all. I hope they have an amazing time, but that doesn’t change the fact that a virtual stranger is taking care of my daughter. That stranger may have been interviewed twice, gone through a thorough background check, come with glowing recommendations, and have had a week trial period with my mom present…but still. It’s a lot different leaving June with a nanny than it is leaving her with the woman who raised me.

The garage lights go dim as the door closes behind my car. Today was my first day of practice since my parents left, and I was jittery all day. My pitches were going wild, some even hitting the dirt before they could cross home plate. I made every adjustment Coach suggested and still struggled. I just couldn’t stop worrying about June. Hazel even sent me a check-in text halfway through practice, but it didn’t help. It just made me think of her all the more.

I get out and pull my duffle bag from the passenger seat with me. The sound of the door shutting echoes through the three-car garage. I shoulder the bag and walk to the door, inputting the code that unlocks it. Bracing myself for a disaster or tears, I walk inside.

Nothing.

The house is quiet, save for the sound of running water. I slide off my shoes and tuck them into the cubby beside June’s and–I pause–Hazel’s. The small white canvas sneakers throw off the usual image I find here. My mom tends to wear sandals even when it’s cold out, and she usually has at least one shoe hanging off the edge of the cubby because June always latches on to her when she arrives.

I follow the sound of the water to the kitchen, where I find Hazel rinsing dishes and putting them in the dishwasher. I hadn’t unloaded it yet today, so she must have done that too.

“You don’t have to do that,” I say and she jumps, the fork she was holding clattering to the wood floor.

She places a damp hand over her heart. “You scared me half to death!”

“I told you I’d be home by five-thirty.” I check my watch. “It’s five-thirty-one.”

Her green eyes blink at me. I glance at the still-running water, and she turns off the faucet, then dries her hands on the towel hanging from the drawer handle below the sink.

“I must have lost track of time. June has so much energy, it’s difficult to find time to do things like dishes,” she says with a soft laugh.

“As I said, you don’t have to do that.”

Her brow crinkles. “I didn’t want to leave a mess. Have I done something wrong?”

“No, at least I don’t think so.” I look around. “Where’s June?” I leave off the rest of my question: And why aren’t you watching her?

“She just went to the restroom before you came in. She was helping me with the dishes.”

Oh. That makes sense. I draw in a slow breath and let it out. I’m going to be left without a nanny if I keep acting paranoid like this.

“Okay,” I say.

With her face still scrunched in confusion, she turns back to the sink to continue the dishes. “Her homework is done and on her desk. Your mom told me you like to eat together when you get home early enough, so I didn’t make her dinner, but I did give her a snack around three-thirty.”

“Daddyyy!” June comes barrelling toward me, her hair in pigtails they weren’t in when I left her this morning. Each one has a tiny purple bow attached. She looks even more adorable than usual.

I catch her as she jumps into my arms and hug her tight. After being so worried all day, it’s nice to hold her. I know for certain she’s safe now.

“I had the best day ever!” she proclaims.

“Yeah? You’ll have to tell me about it.”

Over June’s shoulder, I watch as Hazel closes the dishwasher, a smile on her lips.

“I’ll be by tomorrow morning. The same time, right?” Hazel asks.

June wiggles out of my embrace, rushing over to wrap her arms around Hazel instead. “Don’t leave!”

Hazel lowers herself down in order to wrap June in a full hug. “I’ll be back soon, sweet pea. You’ll spend tonight with your dad, then close those beautiful eyes of yours and the next time you open them, I’ll be here!”

“I wish you could sleep over,” June whines.

I watch in shock at how attached June is already. It took a whole month for her to be okay with her kindergarten teacher giving her a high-five in the morning before class.

“Guess what? Tomorrow night I will sleep over while your dad goes to his game. We can watch a movie and I’ll show you more gymnastics tricks. But you have to cheer up and let me go, okay?”

June steps back. “Yes, ma’am.”

Hazel’s smile is soft, and I might be seeing things, but it looks like she might even have tears in her eyes. This last week must have been more impactful than I realized. June spoke fondly of Hazel, but this level of connection is unexpected.

Hazel stands and turns her attention to me. “Do you need anything else from me before I go?”

“No, I’m good. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

She nods and gives June one last hug before heading toward the garage door. I watch as she slips on her sneakers, then grabs her bag from the hook. I hadn’t even noticed it was there, next to June’s backpack. With a wave, she disappears out the door and I hear the garage opening. Considering she’s going to come and go so often, I’ll have to get her a remote to close it.

The whole thing feels strange. It’s been just me, June, and my parents for so long. I can’t wrap my head around someone being here, even if she’s just a nanny.

“So, tell me about this best day ever,” I say, and June’s face brightens.

“Miss Hazel got me from school and we went to the park to get my wiggles out.”

“Your…wiggles?” I question.

“Yeah, Miss Hazel says that while I’m at school, my wiggles get trapped in my muscles and we have to run around and jump lots to get them out.”

I let out a half-laugh. “Is that so?”

“Yep! And then we came home and I washed strawberries in the sink like a big girl. But Miss Hazel said I was too little to cut them. But she let me put them in the yogurt bowls.”

“That’s nice. What else did you do?”

I walk into my freshly cleaned kitchen. I don’t know if this is Hazel’s way of assuring she keeps her job, but since I have a maid and can clean myself, she didn’t need to go to all this trouble. She seemed confused when I told her as much, so maybe it’s a common thing for nannies to clean the house too.

I start pulling out ingredients for spaghetti. It’s a meal we have often. I’m more of a functional cook than a chef, and spaghetti is easy after a long day of practice.

“We did my homework. I didn’t want to, but Miss Hazel said I have to use my brain or else it shrinks. I don’t want a tiny pebble brain!”

I can’t suppress my laughter. A pebble brain? I know Hazel’s technically not lying, but the dramatization is too funny.

“I’m glad you did your homework,” I say with a chuckle. “Did you do anything else?”

“We played pretend, and read three books to grow my brain even bigger, then we cleaned up the playroom, and I helped with the dishes.” She lists off their activities while spinning in a circle. Hazel was very much correct about June having a lot of energy. She doesn’t sit still, which is something that has taken getting used to. I could sit still and read or play a game for hours, but June is far too animated for that.

“You did a great job cleaning.”

“Miss Hazel said I’m the best helper!”

I realize as I’m cooking that the tension in my neck and shoulders has begun to drain. Maybe leaving June with Hazel won’t be so bad after all. June was safe and had fun today. Beyond being here myself, there’s not much more I can ask for. While it’s odd to have another person in our home, I think it could be good for June. And if she’s happy, I’m happy.