6. ISABELLA
six
“Mi Isabella, tan bella.” Mateo’s mom beams as she welcomes me with the same greeting I’ve been getting from her for years. I walk up to the kitchen stool she’s sitting at so she doesn’t need to stand for me.
She’s fully healed, but since she had a hip replacement, I’ve made a conscious effort to keep her off her feet when she’s around me.
“Bendición Bethzaida.” I give her a kiss on the cheek as she cups mine. We’re obviously not related, but Latinos rarely let blood determine the closeness of family. So out of respect, I always bless her when I see her, like I would to my aunts, grandmothers, or other family elders. We’re not even religious, besides maybe a prayer at Christmas dinner or a baptism here and there, but it is still customary.
Mateo appears at the mouth of the hallway beyond the living room. “Ah, you made it. Perfect timing. I just finished setting up the guest room,” he says as he leans in close to me.
I’m on autopilot when it comes to greetings and don’t even think twice about greeting him with a kiss on the cheek like I did for his mother moments ago. Only when I take a step back, I realize too late that he was merely leaning down to retrieve my luggage from beside me.
He coughs awkwardly, and I swear I’m imagining a blush forming beneath his short, impeccably kept beard. “Yeah, um, welcome again. I’ll, uh, be taking this to your room. Be right back.” His long strides take him out of sight within seconds.
Note to self: do not kiss your boss again, unless explicitly asked to do so.
Not that he would. But yes, noted, nonetheless.
Bethzaida tries to get my attention while I keep staring down the hallway where Mateo made his swift escape, praying my heated cheeks aren’t giving away my embarrassment. But before she can goad me with what I know will be a teasing remark, I hear my name being shouted from the second floor.
I don’t even need to look up, because that little voice of excitement can only come from one of my favorite humans. I start moving toward the staircase to meet her halfway, but it’s in vain, since Anna Martinez sprints down the stairs and makes a beeline straight for me. I underestimated her strength and energy, because by the time I open my arms to welcome her with a hug, she tackles me, and we go tumbling over the back of the couch. Thank God this thing is massive and extremely comfortable, because I don’t think it would be ideal to request workers’ comp on day one.
“Isa, you’re actually here!” she yells, even though she is perfectly perched on my chest and stomach, with our legs intertwined. “I couldn’t believe it when Papi said that you were going to hang out with me for a whole week, like we did in the Dominican Republic, remember?” I brush the hair out of her face while I watch in amusement as she tries to catch her breath.
“Yeah, I even get to take you to school tomorrow. Are you ready for that?”
She nods vigorously, just as I sense him looming over us.
“Anna, tell me I must be getting old and that my hearing is failing me, because I seem to believe that I heard you flying down the stairs, followed by a grunt that I assume came from you winding Isabella and tackling her to the couch.” He raises a stern brow.
She smiles sweetly as she says, “You’re getting old, and your hearing is failing you, Papi.” She giggles as he reaches down and easily throws her over his shoulder to tickle her as he spins her around the room.
The moment is so sweet that no one hears me whisper as I say to myself, “I didn’t grunt. It was more of a heavy exhale due to the element of surprise.”
After he puts her down, he looks back at me where I’m still sprawled out on the couch in the same position Anna put me in.
“Good. It seems like you’re already making yourself at home here.” His words carry a slight bite to them, and I quickly stand, remembering I’m supposed to respect his space and need for peace once he’s home.
Not reading the room, Bethzaida says, “Mateo, it makes me so happy seeing the three of you together.” Her eyes bounce over the three of us, all standing in different parts of the room.
He says nothing as he moves toward the kitchen, then starts unloading Tupperware from the fridge.
“So you’ll really be taking me to school tomorrow, Isa?” Anna asks as she pulls my hand and leads me to the kitchen island, where her grandmother still sits.
“Yes, kiddo. Hank and I will be ready to celebrate your first day with you tomorrow morning. Any requests for breakfast?” I ask as I twirl the end of her ponytail.
Mateo interrupts us. “Actually, I’ll be coming along as well tomorrow, since it’s Anna’s first day. I also need to register you with campus security so you can do pickups without me.”
I nod, keeping my face blank of emotion, hoping that’s what a professional nanny face is supposed to look like.
“And as for breakfast, when I don’t have morning practice or an away game, it’s kind of our thing to make breakfast together. Anna and me.”
Well, then. Point taken.
“Sounds good. Can you tell me where her uniform is so I can—”
“A week’s worth of uniforms are dry cleaned and hanging in her closet, and her after-school activity gear has been sorted by day and is stored in the laundry room closet.”
Shit. He’s basically done everything I was planning to do to keep myself busy tonight and prepare for her first day. Now it feels like I’m lingering in his home, with no actual nanny duties to complete.
As if sensing my looming panic, he decides to throw me a bone. “Listen, Isabella. Your first day officially starts tomorrow. Why don’t you get settled in for the night, and tomorrow, I can have my assistant email you any things that need attention for the week?”
“But it’s only six o’clock,” his mother complains as he subtly shakes his head and makes his way back to the refrigerator. “It’s dinnertime, and I spent all morning cooking a feast. Mateo is going to heat it up for us. There is more than enough for everyone.” She smiles salaciously. “Besides, you can’t go off to bed without eating some good Puerto Rican food. We’ve got to feed those beautiful new curves of yours. Right, Mateo?”
His knuckles look white from where one hand grips the refrigerator door as he releases a deep groan near the gallon of milk.
I’m used to my mom and Bethzaida poking innocent fun at my delayed body development. Because truly, who grows tits and ass after they turn twenty-three? Now at twenty-five, I feel more confident in my curves, and I’m owning them.
Luckily, I grew up in a home where every bite of food was meant to be enjoyed and bodies were meant to be appreciated for all that they do for us. And I guess it’s also been par for the course to have family friends ask which devil I made a deal with in order to get a free ass in this economy, since I used to be flat as a pancake.
But while I’m used to these comments, constantly being around hilarious Latinas, I know it must be making Mateo uncomfortable, which was the number one thing I was trying to avoid during this trial period.
So I lean in and give Bethzaida another kiss and take a large step back.
“Actually, I think I’m going to settle in for the night. Get my things organized and ready for the big day.”
Mateo turns, his expression stoic.
“Nonsense, you can’t skip dinner—” Bethzaida starts.
“I already ate,” I interrupt. “A really big early dinner at my mami’s house. You know, as a sendoff and whatnot. So I’m truly very stuffed.” I pat my empty stomach twice to really seal the deal.
“I’ll show you to your room,” Mateo says as he starts leading the way past me. Seems like I made the right call, since he covered an impressive distance in such a short amount of time.
“Buenas noches,” I call over my shoulder. “See you in the morning, kiddo!”
“Buenas noches,” they both respond, Anna carefully blowing on a hot piece of plátano maduro. My stomach almost weeps.
I turn back around and stop abruptly. Mateo is standing by an open door, which I assume belongs to me for now, with his arms crossed, studying me.
I keep a smile on my face as I walk past him and into the room. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this. Like the living room, an entire wall is a floor-to-ceiling window that overlooks Central Park. The rest of the room is decorated in soft tones, meant to complement the city skyline. Plush carpets, an ivory desk on the wall to my right with a table lamp adding a gentle glow to the sunset displayed behind the massive king-size bed.
“Wow.”
Mateo clears his throat to get my attention but doesn’t enter the room. “The door on the left is your ensuite bathroom. I went ahead and got a few things for you.”
I fully turn to look at him. His hands now rest in the back pockets of his jeans. “You got me stuff? You didn’t need to do that.”
He waves it off. “I don’t have many guests, except my mother, but she has her own unofficial guest room upstairs next to Anna’s room, and it’s fully stocked with her things. Just wanted to make sure you had what you needed to settle in for the night. It’s probably all the wrong stuff, so you can probably—”
“I’m sure it’s perfect. Thank you.” I bite my lip, and his eyes immediately track the movement.
“Money.” His voice rises an octave. “Uh—here.” He pulls his wallet from his back pocket and hands me a black American Express card. My eyes widen, and my eyebrows shoot up. “I don’t want you using your money when you’re out with Anna. If you guys stop to eat or need to buy something, you use this card.” I nod, studying the heavy piece of metal in my hand. “For you as well.” My eyes reach his once more. “When you’re on the clock, your meals are on me. If Anna needs school supplies or… you know… girl stuff.” He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.
I smirk. “What exactly constitutes as ‘girl stuff,’ Mateo?”
“Use your discretion, Isabella,” he grumbles.
There he goes again, only saying my full name in its Spanish pronunciation. I guess I’ve become so familiar with my peers using the English version that the Spanish version now makes me feel… unsteady.
So I resort to my usual go to. I make a joke.
“Got it, boss. So do Hermès bags fall under ‘girl stuff,’ or…”
He releases a deep breath, as if he’s been holding it in this whole time.
I raise my hand to stop him before he can get a word in. “That was a joke, Mateo. I know this is not your ideal situation, but I promise to make the best out of it. Yes, I might make a joke here or there, because that’s who I am. But I promise you, there will only be extreme professionalism coming from me. You can rest easy knowing that it truly is my pleasure to be a part of Anna’s life right now, especially at a time that must be so exciting yet nerve-racking for her.”
His face softens at the mention of his daughter. It’s a great reminder that I should keep all conversations limited to her in order to make sure this working relationship progresses without a hitch.
He nods as he takes a step back. “I didn’t really get the chance to give you the full house tour, but I’ll be sure to do it tomorrow. Our bedrooms are upstairs, in case you need anything. The pantry and fridge are stocked. But, um, try to not eat the grilled chicken and broccoli stuffed Tupperware. Those are the lunches I take to practice.”
“I’ll use all my willpower to keep my hands off your carbless meals,” I tease.
A ghost of a smile flashes across his face before he dips his head.
“Now go enjoy your dinner with your family. I’ll be ready by seven a.m.”
He knocks on the doorframe twice. “All right. Good night, Isabella.”
“Good night, Mateo.”