Chapter 5
chapter
five
Winnie
You would think, after my drama-filled first day at the Callahans, that it would be hard (if not impossible) to settle into any kind of natural rhythm at the house.
And yet … somehow we do fall into a natural rhythm.
I wake up the next morning to find Mr. Broody already gone. This surprises me. Years of nannying have trained me to get up early. If there’s one thing that endears a new nanny to parents, it’s letting them sleep in.
So, as always, I get up early. But Broody-Brody has already left the house and is doing very important horse rancher things.
I have no idea what kinds of things horse ranchers do, but I imagine a lot of cowboy hats and sweaty brows riding around the gorgeous green hills of the property. And boots. Lots and lots of boots. And obviously horses.
Whatever it is he does during the day, I barely see him during the following week. I get a text every day around dinner time alerting me that he wants to eat dinner alone with Clementine from six until eight, and that I can put her to bed after that.
Other than the momentary hand offs at six and eight, I don’t see him at all, which is great.
Perfect even.
It’s not like I want to see him.
Just because he’s hot and huge and great with his kid.
I don’t want to see him more than I do.
Especially not now that I know he’s a (former) professional football player. Which explains why he’s so paranoid about nannies hitting on him.
My point is this: I never imagined that I’d slide effortlessly from high drama into uneasy truce, but that’s what we do. Weeks go by before I see Brody again for more than a few seconds at a time.
But when I do see him next, it’s under … well, extraordinary circumstances.