Marshall: The Manny

Chapter 2

2

M arshall

When I pulled into the neighborhood for the interview, I could tell immediately that everyone there was affluent. I also noticed that the address of the interview was at the most modest home in the cove. It was just as big but had the design of a standard two story, brick home unlike the others. This home had a gate, which I respected and assumed was because there was a young child on the premises. I pulled into the circular driveway behind a BMW, said a quick prayer, then got out.

I was hoping this interview went well. I didn’t need to work with a new family, but I wanted to. I loved kids and felt like I was operating in my purpose as a manny. It was crazy how life changed when your perspective changed. There was a time I’d never even consider doing something that felt so domesticated, but I was great with kids and helping families and single parents have the help and structure they needed to thrive. It took a certain kind of character and heart to do what I did, and I took great pride in being able to do it well.

After ringing the doorbell, I waited patiently for someone to answer.

“Coming,” a slightly familiar voice almost sang.

When the door opened, my eyes landed on the woman I’d talked to initially about this job before the interviews and whom I assumed to be Denver on her hip.

“Hi,” she spoke, motioning for me to come in with her hand.

“Hey, how are you?”

“I’m good. How are you?”

“I’m well. This little guy is Denver?”

“He is.” She pinched his cheek and Denver giggled.

“Hey, Denver. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Marshall.”

I extended my hand in his direction, and he looked down at it before wrapping his hand around two of my fingers. “Hi.”

“Can you say Marshall?” the woman asked. I couldn’t remember her name, but it was something with a J.

“Mar-cho!” Denver yelled, bucking against her.

We both laughed as I said, “Close enough.”

“I’m Jessica, Demi’s best friend and executive assistant. You passed the first round of questioning with her parents and the second with me, so she wanted to get a feel for you herself today if that’s okay.”

“Of course.”

She led me to a sitting area and told me Demi would be down soon. I asked if she minded if I got to know Denver a little and she said it was no problem at all. Jessica left briefly and returned with a dog toy that was loud as hell, lit up, and rolled. Denver told me all about his woof as he called it. Shit was cute. He let me play with it briefly but decided immediately it was his and snatched it.

“Sorry about that.” At the sound of a woman’s voice, I lifted my head. “He’s in that, he doesn’t like to share, phase.”

“Wow,” I muttered as Demi closed the distance between us.

I was sure she hadn’t heard me, but it was clear Jessica did because her body jerked slightly, and she grinned as she looked me up and down. Lowering her head, she reeled her smile back in.

“Hi. I’m Demi Adams, and I see you’ve already met Denver.”

“Pleasure, Mrs. Adams. Marshall Yates.”

“Miss,” she corrected, prompting me to focus on her empty ring finger. “And please, call me Demi.”

“Demi it is.”

“Uh, I’ll take Denver so you two can talk,” Jessica offered, picking him and the toy up.

I told her that was cool but that I’d also like a little time with him before I left if his mother was okay with that, and Demi agreed. She motioned for me to have a seat in the throne like cream and gold chair. I did, and she took a seat in the one that was directly across from it. There were two others with a cream and gold marbled table in the center of them.

“So,” she said, crossing her legs. “Tell me about yourself.”

I told her the basics—that I was thirty-three, the oldest of two sons, and that my parents were still alive and married. I shared with her that I’d been a teacher for about three years before shifting into private childcare. People these days called me a male nanny, but I preferred private childcare provider because it sounded more serious.

She smiled at that.

She had a beautiful smile. Perfectly straight white teeth. Heart shaped lips. Almond shaped, honey brown eyes. I loved those eyes. And that smile. I loved her skin too. It was a cinnamon brown shade that molded against her curvy yet toned build. The longer I looked at her, the more I realized I loved everything I saw. From her long, jet black hair to the light pink nail polish on her toes.

“What caused the shift from teacher to man—private childcare?”

“I’ve always been great with kids and loved nurturing them. Becoming a teacher felt like second nature, but spending eight hours a day with two dozen kids just wasn’t it.” I smiled and she mirrored it. “I wanted something more personal that allowed me to help kids and have a positive effect on their lives outside of the classroom. My girlfriend at that time suggested being a male nanny. I shot the idea down at first, but the more I thought it over, the more it made sense. Not only would I have the opportunity to be there for kids, but I’d be helping their parents too. It provides me with great joy and fulfillment being of service, so I haven’t looked back since.”

She stared at me for a while before licking the corner of her mouth and smiling.

“I’ll be honest with you, Marshall, I’m scared of the thought of letting a complete stranger care for my son in my absence. Your recommendations were stellar. In fact, Noah told me he offered you three times as much to stay with him last summer. So I have to ask, why are you considering working for me?”

“I go where I feel there’s a need. Noah wanted me to stay, but he got married, and his new wife felt some type of way about my presence. She wanted more time with the kids and felt like I was doing a lot of the things around the house she was supposed to be doing.”

“Wait.” Her hand lifted. “What else do you do?”

“Cook, clean, whatever you need. I don’t subscribe to the narrative that those aren’t masculine things to do. Should you decide to hire me, I’m going to do whatever I can to make your life easier. If that includes taking Denver to appointments, handling your errands or a to-do list, your desires will be my command.” I sat up in my seat and added, “As far as why you… I looked up your company, and I think your app is pretty cool. What you’re doing is amazing. If I can take your son off your hands for a few hours while you continue to create apps that change the lives of so many people, I’d be glad to serve.”

From the research I’d done, Demi’s first app was basically a film studio. It allowed people to create short films in the creator section, and people could join as subscribers to watch, rate, and offer feedback on videos that were fifteen minutes or less. The second app would be an actual streaming service for Black shows and films. It was a dope concept.

“Well… Do you have any questions for me?” she asked sweetly.

We talked about our expectations of each other, her schedule, and what she needed me to be aware of when it came down to having a smooth transition with Denver. After that, she gave me a tour of their home and showed me the guest house in the back for myself. We went back inside, and I spent the next three hours spending time with Denver. At that point, it was time for dinner and for her to get him ready for bed. Since I wouldn’t be starting technically until Monday, I left and assured her I’d be back Sunday evening ready to serve.