Nora
I was sitting at the kitchen table on Friday afternoon, trying to keep Kinetic Sand contained to one corner of the surface while Charlotte enthusiastically ignored that boundary.
“Look,” she said, proudly holding up a lumpy tower that immediately collapsed in on itself. “It’s a castle.”
“It’s a very modern castle,” I assured her, brushing stray grains away from the edge of the table before they cascaded to the floor.
My phone buzzed beside me.
Theo: Hey I just heard from Charlotte’s grandparents. They might stop by earlier than expected to get her. They’re taking her this weekend since I’ll be at Ian’s wedding and they decided to make a weekend of it.
Anyway I didn’t have time to pack Charlotte’s suitcase since I thought I’d have more time after work. Would you mind packing it for her? Maybe have her help you choose a few outfits? And if you don’t mind feeding her a bit early that would be amazing.
I smiled to myself. He always asked like that even though this was technically my job.
Me: Sure. I can do that. Any other things I should remember to pack? A special blanket or toy for her to sleep with perhaps?
Charlotte shoved a chunk of sand toward me. “Make a pancake.”
“One second,” I murmured, scanning my screen.
Theo: Yes. Her stuffed raccoon Bandit is a must. And whatever blanket she wants to grab.
Bandit. Of course.
There was a pause.
Then the three little typing dots appeared again.
I waited, absently flattening the “pancake” Charlotte had requested.
Theo: Oh and if you can find her pink bunny. We call it Fluffy. That would be amazing. Alisha’s mom gave that to her last time they took her, and they always like to see her enjoying the things they buy her.
The typing dots appeared again before I could respond. So, I leaned back in my chair and watched them blink on and off like he was debating whether to add something else.
A minute later, another message came through.
Theo: Also, maybe try to pick out some of her fancier clothes for her to wear.
I know she likes to dress in her own creative style these days, but her grandma can be picky about appearances.
So even if you can’t get Charlotte to put on a matching outfit, at least her grandma will have the option if she chooses to engage in that fight.
I laughed softly under my breath, the scenario sounding similar to stories my mom used to tell about me and the wardrobe battles we had when I was little.
Apparently, there was one Sunday where I insisted on wearing two dresses to church.
The one she wanted me to wear underneath, and the one I wanted on top.
Me: I’ll see what I can do.
Theo: Thanks. You’re the best.
I set my phone down and looked at Charlotte, who was now carefully pressing tiny plastic molds into the sand.
“Okay,” I said. “We have five more minutes to play with the sand, and then we need to go upstairs to pack for your sleepover at your grandma and grandpa’s house tonight.”
Her head popped up immediately. “I get my suitcase.”
“Already?” I laughed, scrambling to stand as she slid off her chair and bolted toward the stairs. Apparently, she didn’t need a transition time when something fun like a weekend at her grandparents’ house was in store.
“Race you!” she shouted.
“Hey!” I called after her, grabbing my phone and following. “I needed a head start.”
She was already halfway up the stairs when I reached the bottom.
And just like that, we were off to pack for Manhattan.
I checked the time on my phone for what had to be the sixth time in three minutes.
5:26.
Theo had texted earlier that he’d try to get home around five thirty so he could be there to greet the Vanderbilts himself.
Which I was very grateful for.
I was usually pretty good with strangers. I could charm a room if I needed to. But the Vanderbilts felt different. Wealthy. Polished. The kind of people who noticed if you used the wrong fork.
So, the closer it got to five thirty, the more nervous I became that Theo had gotten stuck in traffic.
Meanwhile, Charlotte was leaning against the back of the couch, face pressed to the gap in the curtains as she peered out the window.
“They’re going to be here so soon,” she whispered, practically vibrating.
A white car slowed as it drove past the house.
My stomach dipped.
“Is that them?” I asked, stepping closer to the window. “What color car do your grandparents have?”
Charlotte shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Helpful.
I held my breath as the car paused for a second, my mind already racing through polite introductions and hoping I didn’t accidentally say something stupid.
But then the vehicle kept moving, clearly just checking house numbers, and drove away.
I exhaled.
Okay.
A few minutes later, another car turned onto the street.
A Black Volvo.
Theo.
I let out another breath, this one heavier with relief. Good.
As much as I usually didn’t mind lingering after work—especially since Theo had become almost aggressively insistent that I not go home and cook a second dinner for myself—I’d already eaten with Charlotte so I could slip out as soon as he arrived.
I wanted him to have his time with his daughter and her grandparents without me hovering awkwardly in the background.
When Theo pulled into the driveway, and the garage door lifted, I slipped into the kitchen and grabbed my purse from the hook by the pantry.
The door to the garage opened a moment later.
He stepped inside, his tie already loosened.
“Heading out already?” he asked, a flicker of surprise crossing his face when he saw me standing there with my purse over my shoulder. Then he added lightly, “Got a hot date you’re headed to meet or something? Miles, perhaps?”
“No.” I huffed. “I was just trying to get out of your hair before Charlotte’s grandparents got here.”
“Oh.” He nodded. “I guess that makes sense.”
I gestured toward the pile by the door. Charlotte’s little pink suitcase sat upright, flanked by a blanket and what looked like an entire stuffed-animal-rescue mission.
“I told her she could only bring three stuffed animals, but she insisted on five. Hopefully, they won’t mind taking a zoo with them.”
“Sounds about right,” he said with a quiet chuckle, crouching to inspect the lineup. Bandit the raccoon, Fluffy the bunny, and three other fuzzy companions stared back at him.
He stood again and looked at me. “Thank you so much for getting that all ready. You’re a lifesaver.”
He said it sincerely.
And the way his green eyes held mine for a second too long made my heart do something embarrassing and fluttery.
Dang it.
The man really was unfairly good-looking.
“Just doing my job,” I said, shifting my purse strap on my shoulder and trying to sound unaffected.
“Well,” he replied, softer now, “I’d be lost without you.”
That did not help.
It felt a little too good to hear that. To know I was helping. That he noticed.
“Happy to help,” I said quietly.
“They’re here!” Charlotte suddenly shrieked from the living room, jumping up from the couch and racing toward the front door. She yanked at the handle, thwarted by the child safety lock. “Open it! Open it!” she demanded, bouncing in place.
Theo stepped past me to get to the door, his arm grazing my side in the process. The brush was brief, probably accidental.
But it was enough to send warm shivers through my whole body.
And the faint trace of his cologne that met my nostrils was a very nice touch, too.
He opened the door just as a sleek black sedan parked in front of the house.
Charlotte bolted outside without hesitation.
And sure enough, the driver stepped out first, moving to open the back door.
Yep.
Definitely the kind of grandparents who had someone else drive them.
The back door of the sedan opened smoothly, and a tall man with silver hair stepped out first. He barely had time to straighten before Charlotte launched herself at him.
“There’s my girl,” he said, crouching down just in time to scoop her up.
She wrapped her arms around his neck like she’d been waiting all week for that exact moment.
Then Charlotte’s grandmother stepped out—polished, salon-styled hair perfectly in place, oversized sunglasses perched elegantly on her face. She leaned in and hugged them both at once, laughing softly as Charlotte talked a mile a minute.
I found myself smiling.
It was good to see how comfortable Charlotte was with them. I’d seen her around Theo’s parents plenty of times at gymnastics meets, but I hadn’t met Alisha’s parents before.
It was good she had so many people who loved her.
Even if her mom wasn’t here anymore.
The thought made my chest tighten.
Growing up, I’d only really had one set of grandparents. The ones who eventually became my parents. My circle had been smaller. Quieter.
But I’d never felt unloved.
And between them and the coaches who’d poured into me over the years, I’d never felt completely alone either.
Still, seeing Charlotte had two sets of grandparents to dote on her was nice. Like, not everything in her and Theo’s world had fallen apart after the accident.
The Vanderbilts started walking toward the front door, Charlotte still chattering in her grandfather’s arms.
Which was my cue.
I turned to Theo. “I’ll leave you to your company.”
“Okay,” he said, glancing at me. Then, softer, “Have a good night. Thanks again for all your help.”
“Of course.” I smiled back. “Enjoy your kid-free weekend.”
I gave Charlotte a little wave, vaguely wondering what Theo might have planned for his free time, then stepped out onto the porch and down the front steps, offering a polite nod and smile to her grandparents as I passed them.
“Nice to meet you,” I said lightly.
They smiled back, assessing but polite.
But as I reached the sidewalk, I heard Mrs. Vanderbilt’s voice drift toward Theo.
“Who was that girl?”
“Oh,” Theo replied easily. “That’s Charlotte’s new nanny.”
“Oh.” A brief pause. “She’s quite young, isn’t she? Pretty, too.”
I should have kept walking. But my stomach twisted.
It hadn’t sounded like a compliment.
It sounded like a calculation.
A warning wrapped in silk.
And suddenly, I was thinking about what Theo had said earlier that week—about being intentional not to hire someone he was attracted to.
I slowed my steps just slightly, pretending to adjust my purse strap as I stepped off the sidewalk.
“She’s my sister’s best friend,” I heard him say.
As if that explained everything.
As if that meant there were lines.
As if that meant he wasn’t the kind of man who blurred them.
I should have felt reassured by that since I was just here to do my job.
And yet, something about the way he’d said it—like he needed them to know, like he needed to make it clear—well, it disappointed me.
And I didn’t want to think about why.