Theo
“Any specific type of food you’re in the mood for?” I asked Nora, pulling out my phone as we stood in the storage room in my basement on Sunday afternoon. It was just before five, and we’d spent the better part of the day going through Alisha’s things.
At times it had been harder than I’d expected.
Certain pieces of clothing had brought back memories I hadn’t thought about in years.
Certain handbags reminded me of trips we’d taken together.
But now that everything was boxed up and stacked neatly in the storage room, I also felt something I hadn’t anticipated.
Relief.
Over the past two years I’d slowly started reshaping different parts of the house—rearranging furniture, swapping out photos and decor, trying to make the space feel like something Charlotte and I could actually live in again instead of a museum dedicated to what we’d lost.
The closet had been the final piece of that.
And while I still wasn’t entirely sure what would ultimately happen to those boxes, since I’d decided to give myself a few months before making any permanent decisions, it still felt like a step forward.
I’d kept a few of the more sentimental items. A few things for myself. A few others for Charlotte to have when she was older.
But knowing that the closet behind that bathroom door no longer held a quiet mountain of emotional baggage…
Well… that felt like progress.
“I’m good with anything,” Nora said behind me. “Whatever you want, boss.”
I glanced over my shoulder just as she turned the last box in the storage room so the words she’d written on the side—Alisha’s bags, #2—were facing outward.
“What about the Italian Amigos?” I asked, suddenly craving their famous fajitas.
“Sounds great to me.”
“Anything you want off the top of your head?” I asked as we headed up the stairs. “Or do you want to look at the menu real quick?”
“I’ll get the rigatoni carbonara with blackened chicken, if that’s okay,” she said. “Lucy got me hooked on that this past spring.”
“Perfect.” I smiled, hitting the call button just as we stepped onto the main floor.
After placing the order, we drifted into the kitchen while we waited for it to be delivered.
“Want something to drink?” I asked.
“I’ll just take water, actually,” Nora said, stepping up to the counter. “Maybe with a lemon to make it fancy, if you have one.”
“I do,” I said, grabbing a glass from the cabinet.
She pulled out one of the stools on the other side of the island and sat down, resting her elbows on the counter as she watched me.
I took in what she was wearing. A light purple tank top and jean shorts.
Simple. Casual. Especially compared to the parade of designer outfits we’d spent the afternoon sorting through. But somehow, this more casual outfit looked just as good on her as the designer dress had last night.
The color made her sun-kissed skin stand out, and the light dusting of freckles across her shoulders caught the late afternoon light coming through the kitchen windows.
I’d always assumed people with reddish-brown hair and freckles burned instead of tanned. But Nora’s skin clearly hadn’t gotten that memo.
If anything, she looked like she’d spent the entire past two weeks outside.
Which, knowing Charlotte, she probably had.
My gaze lifted to her eyes next, and when I caught her staring back at me with a smile, I realized a little too late that I’d been far from subtle in my appreciation of the view.
Heat crept up the back of my neck. Yep. Apparently, I was embarrassingly awkward around women I was attracted to. Especially ones I’d had steamy dreams about.
I quickly looked away, suddenly very interested in the contents of the refrigerator as I grabbed a lemon and set it on the cutting board. I sliced a few wedges, hooked one over the rim of the glass the fridge had just filled with its automatic sensor, and slid it across the counter toward her.
“Thanks,” she said softly.
And since the water looked refreshing and I needed something more to do while I tried to straighten out my thoughts, I filled a glass for myself before leaning back against the counter.
For a moment, neither of us said anything, the quiet stretching between us. And as I tried to think of something to talk about, I found myself wondering what she thought about today.
Had it been strange helping me pack up my late wife’s things after our dance and everything that had happened last night? Because I was about ninety-nine percent certain that the moment in my bedroom hadn’t just been in my head.
Though, who really knew at this point since my subconscious had certainly decided to take that memory and run with it in a direction that had left me waking up in the middle of the night feeling like the world’s worst husband to his late wife.
Ugh… why did moving on have to bring up so many conflicting feelings?
I sighed and drained the remaining water from my glass, turning back to the fridge to refill it. As the water poured down from the dispenser, I glanced at Nora again.
She was tapping lightly on her phone now, checking notifications like she was looking for something to do.
Was she uncomfortable?
Could she sense that my thoughts had gotten a little complicated over the past week?
Did she somehow know about the dream?
I really hope not.
Because that would be bad.
Probably have her packing up her brand-new belongings and getting out of here as fast as she could.
I grabbed another lemon wedge from the counter and squeezed some of the juice into my cup to give my hands something to do.
I needed to think of something to say. This silence was stretching on a little too long.
Think, Theo, think.
Because it really shouldn’t be that hard. We could talk about anything.
Well, anything that didn’t include me admitting that I might be developing a very inconvenient crush on my cute nanny.
Because, yeah, that was definitely not something I should be talking about, let alone thinking about.
Right?
Sure, clearing out Alisha’s closet this afternoon had been an important step forward in my healing process—last night’s dream had made it painfully obvious that I couldn’t keep trying to move forward while still keeping one foot in the past.
But that didn’t mean I should start acting on every confusing feeling that came along, did it?
Trying to put the moves on my daughter’s twenty-two-year-old nanny would definitely not be a nice, easy way to “ease” into dating more seriously. No, that would just throw my life into more chaos.
Wouldn’t it?
“What time will Charlotte be back?” Nora asked then, thankfully breaking the silence before my brain could spiral any further.
I checked the time on my watch. It was 5:11.
“Within the next hour or so,” I said, clearing my throat. “The Vanderbilts said they’d try to have her back by six.”
“Okay, cool.” Nora nodded. “It’ll be fun having her back.”
“It will.” I took another sip of water. “I’ve missed her.”
She looked at her glass, running her finger around the rim like she was hesitating before asking, “Do you think she’ll be okay with me staying here?”
“Are you kidding?” I asked, letting out a small chuckle. “She’ll be thrilled. Pretty sure she likes you more than me.”
“There’s no way that’s true!” She laughed, shaking her head. “But as long as she doesn’t mind me staying here, that’s all I care about.”
“Well, just remember that it’s okay for you to say no to entertaining her when you’re off the clock,” I told her, realizing that particular boundary might get a little blurry for Charlotte.
“Otherwise, she’ll probably try to monopolize all your time.
Dragging you into our movie nights, walks, bedtime stories… ”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Nora said with a grin.
“But I’ll have you know movie nights, evening walks, and bedtime stories have always been favorite pastimes of mine.
” She leaned forward slightly and cupped a hand beside her mouth.
“You know, as long as the movie nights include popcorn, candy, and fuzzy blankets.” She winked.
“Popcorn and fuzzy blankets are a given,” I said, finding myself grinning back at her playfulness because she really was too cute. “But candy depends on whether or not I’ve already raided my private stash.”
“Daddy Theo has a secret sweet tooth?” she asked, her brown eyes sparkling.
Daddy Theo?
Was that what she called me in her head? Because if it was…
Well.
That suddenly conjured up a very different image than what came up when Charlotte called me Daddy.
Which, yeah, I probably shouldn’t be thinking about that right now.
I cleared my throat and shrugged. “Nobody’s perfect.” Then, needing to get my head back on track, I added, “We’re actually planning on watching Tangled tonight, if you want to join us.”
“I’d love to,” she said immediately. “That’s actually one of my favorites.”
“Well, good.” I nodded, already looking forward to the evening more than usual.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw the notification from the delivery app.
Your order has arrived.
Right on cue, there was a knock at the door.
“That’s probably our dinner,” I said, slipping the phone back into my pocket as I headed for the front entry.
The driver was already walking back toward his car by the time I opened the door. I grabbed the bag from the step and lifted a quick hand in thanks as he pulled away from the curb.
A minute later, I was back in the kitchen dividing up the takeout containers. The smell of fajitas hit me the second I opened the lid, and my stomach reminded me I hadn’t eaten much since breakfast. I pulled out a stool and sat down kitty-corner from Nora at the island.
As we started eating, the conversation drifted to the hot air balloon ride we had coming up.
“Are you looking forward to it?” I asked, wanting to get a read on how she was feeling about Miles after everything that had happened yesterday.
“I hope it’s fun,” she said.
I frowned slightly as I scooped steak and peppers into a tortilla. “You don’t sound very enthusiastic.”
Nora gave me a look like I was missing something painfully obvious. “Well,” she said, arching a brow, “would you be excited to hang out with a date who only invited you to a wedding to make someone jealous… and then ditched you?”
“Oh. Right.” I cleared my throat. “I suppose you do have a point.”
What did it say about me that part of me was almost glad she seemed a little disillusioned by Miles?
Probably not great things.
Not that I wanted her to be hurt. I definitely didn’t want that.
But hearing that she wasn’t suddenly swept up in some whirlwind romance with him…
Yeah, I probably shouldn’t unpack that thought too closely.
She sighed and twirled her fork through her pasta. “But it’s only a few hours. And I’ve never been in a hot air balloon before, so that part should be fun, at least.”
“That part should definitely be fun.”
She took a bite, chewing thoughtfully for a moment before looking back at me. “So has anything been happening with you and Amanda? Have you two been texting since our dinner last week?”
“Just a little.”
“And?” Nora prompted.
I sighed and set my fork down. “And… she’s nice.”
“Nice?” Nora repeated, clearly expecting more.
I opened my mouth, trying to decide how honest I wanted to be about that answer, when the doorbell rang.
I glanced toward the front hallway, then at the time on my watch. 5:30.
Were the Vanderbilts already back with Charlotte?
I pushed back from the island and stood. “To be continued,” I said, heading toward the door.
Then, since it might look a little strange if Charlotte’s grandparents walked in and found me sitting down to dinner alone with the same woman I’d just assured them two days ago was simply Charlotte’s nanny, I quickly added, “Uh… just stay here. I’ll be right back.”
The words came out a little more abruptly than I’d intended, and when I saw the faint flicker of confusion cross Nora’s face, my stomach twisted.
Great.
Now she probably thought I was hiding her or something.
Which wasn’t what I meant at all. Not really, anyway.
I just… didn’t feel like explaining things to Charlotte’s grandparents tonight.
“Daddy!” Charlotte launched herself at me when I opened the front door.
“Hey, bug.” I laughed and scooped her up as she wrapped her arms around my neck.
She squeezed me tight, and I hugged her back just as tightly.
Then looking up at my mother-in-law next, I smiled and said, “Thanks for taking her this weekend.”
“Anytime,” Candice said warmly, glancing down at Charlotte. “We had so much fun.” But then she leaned closer and lowered her voice. “But wow, does that little girl have endless amounts of energy. I might need a full week to recover.”
“That sounds about right.” I chuckled.
Out in the driveway, my father-in-law was already pulling Charlotte’s car seat out of the back of the car.
“Go ahead and make yourself comfortable in the living room,” I told Alisha’s mom—hoping it wasn’t too obvious that I really didn’t want her wandering into the kitchen and discovering I’d invited my nanny to move in over the weekend. “I’ll help bring the rest in.”
I headed down the walkway toward the Vanderbilts’ car, and that was when I saw that Charlotte’s “weekend bag” had somehow multiplied.
Not only had her little zoo of stuffed animals gained a few new friends, but there was also a brand-new suitcase sitting beside them, which I could only assume was full of new mini designer outfits.
I sighed as I hefted the bags out of the back. Looks like I might need to start decluttering Charlotte’s closet and toy room next.
I stepped inside the house behind my father-in-law, expecting to find Charlotte and Candice settling into the living room. But instead of finding them in there, I heard female voices coming from the kitchen.
Candice and Nora’s voices.
Which meant that Charlotte’s inability to sit still had apparently carried her and her sometimes persnickety grandmother through the house and straight to the kitchen island.
Right to where Nora was.
A small pit formed in my stomach.
Because I had a feeling this was about to lead me into answering questions I wasn’t quite sure how to answer.