Chapter 7 #2
But he put me at ease immediately. He was so smart, asking insightful questions, his expression and tone genuine, like he actually cared.
I found myself getting emotional. The guilt that pervaded every single day of my life reared up and made its way to the forefront of my mind.
Each morning when I woke, it was there, an almost physical entity. I could practically see the depression it made on the pillow beside mine. It was my constant companion, accompanying me through all life’s moments and dragging me down when I approached any sort of victory.
Guilt that I hadn’t been enough for Kenneth. That I couldn’t make my marriage work.
Guilt that my kids came from a broken family.
Guilt that I could not provide for them the way I wanted to.
“You okay?”
I nodded, sniffling slightly.
He leaned in closer. “Tell me how I can help.” It wasn’t a statement. It was a command.
“I’m just overwhelmed,” I admitted. “I like my work at the hospital, but I don’t get home until at least six.
The girls have after-school activities some days, but on the days they don’t, it’s a struggle to find care for them.
They can’t be home alone. Greta would burn the building down and Kit would be too busy playing her keyboard to notice.
I’ve tried babysitters. Both quit after the first day. ”
Brian gently pushed a box of tissues across the desk.
I took one. I had no idea why I was spilling my guts like this, but now that I’d started, I couldn’t stop. “And the endless juggling of it all.” I blew my nose. God, I was pathetic. “Sorry. I don’t mean to dump on you.”
He stared at me, those intense dark eyes wide with understanding. The man was gorgeous; why did he have to be easy to talk to as well? I felt like a blubbering mess.
Standing abruptly, he offered me his hand. “Let’s go upstairs for a minute.”
When we stepped into the apartment, Sloane, who was on the floor doing tummy time with Tia on a playmat, gave me a big smile and a thumbs-up.
“The girls can come here,” Brian said as he shuffled toward Sloane.
My stomach lurched. “No.”
“This may look like a law office from the outside,” he said, giving me a wry smile, “but we’re really running a daycare.”
Sloane sat up and scooped Tia into her arms. She and Brian exchanged a silent look I couldn’t decipher.
“He’s not wrong,” she said, patting the baby gently. “T. J. and Murphy are here every day after school. And two seven-year-old boys with a lot of energy is a lot some days.”
“My girls,” I hedged, lowering my voice. “They can be difficult. And they don’t have the greatest track record with babysitters.”
Sloane nodded. “I get it. But what if I hired them to help us?” Her brows rose in question. “The boys need playmates. The girls could keep them entertained and supervise until you’re back from work. Kit seems like she could keep everyone in line and make sure homework gets done.”
Affection for my daughter bloomed in my chest, along with a little amusement. “She does love being in charge.”
In fact, right now, she was returning from the kitchen with a water bottle for one of the boys. She stopped at the ping-pong table, where Greta and the boys were hard at work, and plucked a tiny Lego from a pile and held it out to them.
“They always wanted a little brother,” I sighed.
Greta held up her X-wing fighter and made pew noises, firing at the Iron Man armor T. J. was building.
The boys giggled happily.
Sloane looked down, stroking the baby’s soft cheek.
“Murphy’s easy. Mostly quiet and listens well, but my T.
J.” She nodded at the boy with slightly lighter hair.
“He’s a handful. I could really use the help.
After those initial nanny interviews, we decided against it.
For now, at least. I want to spend as much time with the kids as I can while I’m on maternity leave, and Cal wasn’t keen on hiring a stranger to watch Murphy. ”
I took in the space, considering their proposal. The walls were covered in art projects, and there was a potted plant on almost every surface. Amid the clutter were four smiling, busy kids, plus one adorable baby.
Yes, it appeared that Sloane was up here with them all on her own, but downstairs, there were a handful of responsible adults who could jump in if there was an emergency.
I’d left work early too many times. And while the girls had done well hanging out at the yoga studio, it wasn’t a long-term solution.
“Can I pay you?” I asked.
Sloane’s mouth opened in surprise, and Brian scowled, as if I’d offended him.
“Please,” I said. “I’d feel terrible. Let me do something. I can cook. Buy groceries? Maybe clean Fuzzy’s litter box?”
Brian pulled up to his full height and slid his hands into his pockets. “Not necessary.”
“It’s really okay,” Sloane said. “They’re good kids, and in the hour they’ve been here, they’ve already been a big help.”
“Free yoga?” I suggested.
“Fine,” Brian huffed. “Cal and Lo will love that.”
“Me too,” Sloane added.
“And friendship?” Brian asked, his eyes pinning me to the spot.
“I’d like that.”