Chapter 5
Chapter Five
DREW
A t first, I think Tatum got my address from Wren and decided to surprise me with breakfast or something. And though I would usually be irritated by someone showing up unannounced when I’m trying to get Sarah Beth settled with a brand-new nanny and myself off to work, when I see Tatum’s curly red head emerge from her ancient hatchback, I can’t help but smile.
I’m just so happy to see her again.
She looks even better than she did at the bar, adorable in a pair of bright pink jeans and a rainbow-striped sweater under her blue peacoat. The clothes conceal most of her curves, but I know they’re under there, and the combo of cute on the outside and red-hot underneath is a kink I didn’t realize I possessed until she showed up on my doorstep.
“Is that my new nanny, Daddy?” Sarah Beth asks, running her fingers back and forth across the stubble on my chin, the way she does when she’s feeling a little nervous.
“No, that’s Tatum, a friend of mine,” I say. “But she’s super nice. You’re going to love her.”
“She has red hair like me,” she says, sounding pleased.
“She does. And as we know, redheads are the best,” I say as Tatum climbs the stairs to meet us on the porch, her purse and a larger duffel bag slung over her shoulder.
Whatever her surprise, it’s clear she brought a lot of it.
“We really are,” she says, stopping in front of us with a nervous smile of her own. “Hey there, cutie, I’m guessing you must be Sarah Beth.”
Sarah Beth ducks her head, shy, but smiling as she whispers, “Yes.”
My slow-on-the-uptake, pre-coffee brain is still trying to figure out how Tatum knows my daughter’s name—did I mention it Saturday night and forget about it in all the excitement—when she says, “Cool. I love your name. My name is Tatum, and I brought a bunch of my favorite games for us to play today. And a craft project with tons of glitter glue because glitter is my favorite color.”
Sarah Beth giggles while I try to pick my jaw up off the floor. “Glitter isn’t a color,” she says.
“Oh yeah?” Tatum shoots back, still grinning. “I think it can be if we want it to be. We’re going to make our own rules around here. And the first rule is that you should always eat breakfast with a crown.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out a child-sized crown with big, pink jewels set in the plastic. She holds it up, asking, “I’m assuming you enjoy being the Princess of Pancakes?”
Sarah Beth laughs again, louder this time, proving her shyness is wearing off much faster than usual. “I’ve never been the Princess of Pancakes.”
Tatum’s eyes go wide. “You haven’t? Well, we must remedy that immediately, my lady.” She places the crown on Sarah’s head then plucks a larger crown from the bag and settles it onto her own curls. “Now, we’re crowned and ready to handle princess business over breakfast. First, we’ll have to pick a place to have lunch after your roller-skating class. I’m new in town, so I’m trusting you to take point on that. Then, we’ll hear grievances from any cranky stuffed animals who need our advice, teach your teddy bears their letters, and see if we can find any fairies at the park. It’ll be warm enough to hunt fairies this afternoon, assuming we bundle up and wear our mittens.”
Sarah Beth beams with excitement while my stomach continues to sink. “I love fairies!” She squirms in my arms, wanting to be set down. As soon as her tennis shoes hit the porch, she grabs Tatum’s hand and pulls her toward the door, saying, “Bye, Daddy. We’re busy today.”
Tatum chuckles and even I can’t help but wheeze out a laugh.
Even though this is fucking horrible.
If Sarah Beth hadn’t taken a liking to Tatum, maybe we could have headed this off at the pass, but my daughter is clearly smitten. It’s love at first sight, and I’ve been through too many failed babysitter experiments to put what seems like a perfect match at risk.
But that means another potentially perfect match is going to have to go by the wayside, which feels like it’s killing me a little…
As we step inside, I tell Sarah Beth, “I’ll head to work soon, but I need to talk to Tatum first, okay? About some grown-up stuff. Why don’t you go grab your favorite stuffies from upstairs and bring them down? I’m sure Tatum will want to meet them first thing.”
“I’ll get my wand, too!” Sarah Beth dashes for the stairs, calling out over her shoulder, “I’m going to be a magical princess of pancakes with special powers!”
“Perfect!” Tatum enthuses, before turning back to me with wide eyes and not a hint of her child-charming grin. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea! None! Not until you stepped out on the porch.”
“Me, either,” I hiss back. “Your phone number was different than the one I had for the interview.”
“So was yours,” she says. “I changed mine to a Minnesota number before I left on the drive here. New life and all.”
“And I was chatting with you from my work cell before,” I say.
“Well, that explains that, but I know Drew is short for Andrew. I should have thought of that,” she says, “but it just didn’t connect in my head. Maybe it was the dirty martini or the fact that I assumed you were a fisherman, at first, but it just…did not compute.”
“And my new nanny’s name is supposed to be Margaret.”
“Yeah, Margaret Tatum O’Leary,” she says, wincing. “Sorry I didn’t say that on the phone when we talked, but you started the interview off by calling me Margaret, and I didn’t think I should correct my boss right off the bat. And then, by the time we were done, it felt like we’d been talking too long for me to suddenly switch names. I was afraid you would think I was weird, and you seemed so nice and cool, and I really wanted the job. So, I figured I’d sort out the ‘I go by my middle name’ thing on my first day.” She bites her bottom lip. “Are you mad?”
“No,” I say honestly. I’m not mad. I’m something much, much worse. I swear, my guts feel like they’re tied in knots as I add, “It’s clear you’re great with kids and Sarah Beth is already in love with you. And she doesn’t love everyone. She’s very shy most of the time, so it’s amazing you’ve made so much headway with her in five minutes.”
Tatum beams and her shoulders relax a little. “Aw, thanks. I love her, too. And I love working with four-year olds. They’re the best. They’re so creative and fun. They’re just my people. Probably because I never fully grew up.” She lifts a hand, fingers spread. “I mean, I’m responsible and can totally be trusted, I just still like to play. And remember how. A lot of adults don’t.”
“No, they don’t. You’re…really special, and I’m so glad you’re here,” I say, hating that I have to add a ‘but’ onto that statement. “But there’s no way I can date my daughter’s nanny. It just wouldn’t feel right. And I wouldn’t want to put your relationship with Sarah at risk.”
Tatum blinks faster, disappointment filling her eyes. “It wouldn’t. Even if things didn’t work out between us, I’d never abandon a child who was counting on me, Drew. I can keep my relationship with you and my relationship with Sarah Beth separate, I promise.”
“But I can’t,” I say, just as Sarah Beth’s footfalls pound across the ceiling above our heads. “If you decided you didn’t want to date me anymore and I still had to see you every weekday morning, it would be too hard. I’d have to let you go and then you’d lose a job, and my daughter would lose someone she’d grown attached to, and she’s lost enough already. Her mom left when she was a year old and my Aunt Tia, her favorite sitter, moved to Florida last year. She needs a caregiver she can count on, and I really want this to be a long-term situation. That’s why I was so nosy in the interview.”
“Not quite nosy enough,” Tatum says, pain clear in her voice as she adds, “Ugh, if only I’d told you my full name on Saturday, this could have been avoided.”
“Or if I’d paid better attention to the background check,” I say. “I’m still not sure I would have connected the dots but seeing the unusual middle name might have sparked something.”
“Yeah,” Tatum says sounding as miserable as I feel.
“But I’m glad we had Saturday,” I whisper as Sarah Beth gallops down the stairs. “It was as unforgettable as you are.”
Tatum nods, her brow furrowed as she clearly fights through another wave of disappointment. “Okay, well, then…I guess that’s that.” She pulls in a breath, forcing a smile as Sarah Beth skids to a stop in front of her, holding her wand and three of her favorite stuffed animals.
“This is Ajax, Tatum,” she says, handing over her favorite St. Bernard stuffy, the one she’s had since she was a baby. “He’s a hero and saves all the other stuffed animals when they get in trouble. And they get in a lot of trouble. The stairs are super dangerous, and they fall all the time.”
“Oh, wow,” Tatum says, dipping into a little curtsy. “I’m so honored to meet you Ajax. It’s an honor to be in the presence of a real-life hero. Thank goodness we have you here to help us keep the rest of the stuffies safe.”
Sarah Beth nods seriously, clearly enraptured by this grown-up taking her pretend as seriously as she does. “And this is Petra Picklepants, she’s?—”
“Hold on for one second, honey,” I cut in, glancing at my watch. “I need to be out the door in ten minutes, and I haven’t given Tatum the keys or money for lunch.” I turn to Tatum. “I know you already have her schedule for the week, but I put a copy on the refrigerator just in case. The keys to the house and the minivan in the garage are by the microwave. Please use the van, not your car. It’s safer and I already have her car seat set up properly.”
Tatum smiles, a little indulgently, I think. “Of course. I brought a car seat and am a pro at installing them, but I’ve always wanted to cruise around Minnesota in a van.” She winks at Sarah Beth. “And we’ll have more room to bring stuffies with us in the van. After hearing about those stairs, I’m not sure we should leave them all at home. It might be too much for Ajax to handle all alone.”
Sarah nods, her eyes bright. “I can put them in my backpack.”
“Or we can make miniature car seats out of paper towel rolls so they can be safe in the car, too,” Tatum says.
“Yes! That would be so cool!” Sarah Beth says, on the verge of some kind of blissed out, excitement seizure.
My daughter has met a kindred spirit who’s going to bring such joy to her life, and I’m so happy for her.
But I can’t help feeling a little sorry for myself. As I give Tatum money for lunch and promise to be home a little earlier than usual to see how their first day went, I have to fight to keep the disappointment from showing on my face.
By the time I get out to the car, my stomach is in knots, and I think I might take my piercing out, once and for all. It will always remind me of that incredible night with Tatum, and I don’t need any reminders that we were ever anything more than boss and employee.
And maybe friends.
Maybe we can be friends someday. As soon as I convince myself I wasn’t already falling in love with her.
“Good luck with that,” I mutter as I start the car and pull out onto to the street, leaving my favorite girl with the incredible woman who can never be mine.