CHAPTER 10
Jason
T he scrimmage on the enclosed basketball court on Ethan’s property feels like a clutch game, but it’s just a casual Saturday with my friends.
“What time is she coming again?” Russ lobs the question as easily as he sinks a three-pointer.
“Close to one.” My neutral tone masks my nerves. I catch the rebound and dribble toward Ethan, passing the ball and pushing thoughts of the nanny away.
Ethan catches my pass on a fast break. His pastor calm brings some perspective to our conversations. Russ, the tech-gadget guru, remains laid back, and Liam, with his architectural eye, adds structure to any chaos. All of us share the bond of single fatherhood, each story a unique play in the game of life.
The space reverberates with the squeals of our children beyond the court. Eden is on a hammock under a tree, lost in a book. My twins are teamed up in a spirited soccer match with friends.
A quick steal from Russ has me driving down the court, my dribbles echoing my racing heartbeat. My pass to Ethan is sloppy—too much spin.
Liam intercepts with an agile step. “Mate, you’re off your game today.” He dodges my attempt to reclaim the ball. His green eyes and sun-bleached hair glisten, giving away the Australian as a surfer transplant to New York.
Valentina’s impending arrival sends another jolt through me, which allows Russ to snatch the pass intended for me, his long arms a clear advantage.
“We’re going to lose!” Ethan shouts.
Shaking off the mix-up, I regain possession of my faculties and push the pace.
“What’s the nanny’s name again?” Liam tosses the question like a soft lob.
“Valentina.” Ethan spins the ball at his fingertips, a mischievous glint in his brown eyes. “Did you tell them her name for you?”
My cheeks burn hotter than this game. “So much for pastor confidentiality,” I grumble. Now’s not the time to update them on our resolved understanding.
“Grumpy, is it?” Ethan throws a fake, his dimples sinking into his cheeks.
“She’s going to be challenging.” I steal the ball back and charge toward the basket. No one contests as I make an easy layup. “She’s really outspoken.” A smart-mouth.
Liam, now resting against the chain-link fence surrounding the court, smirks. “How did you convince her to stay after you’d fired her?”
“She fired herself.” Not from the host position, but the nanny gig. I pass the ball to Ethan, who’s ready to wind down. “She told me I can’t boss her around and must let her do the job her way.”
“She said that to you?” Ethan chortles, covering his laugh under his elbow.
“You just met your match, mate.” Liam’s smile broadens as he bobs his sun-damaged hair. “Do we get to meet her today?”
“Eventually.” I scan the lane with its leafless trees. In a few weeks, the cherry blossoms will bloom. “She’ll be driving past your place soon enough.” Our little enclave—designed by Liam and including Ethan’s farmhouse and my quiet spot—forms the end of the lane.
The game wraps up. “Daddy... Daddy!” Atticus beckons a change in play.
“Looks like I’m on football duty.” I move toward the kids’ enthusiastic chorus.
“I’m in,” Liam calls out. “What these lads need is a bit of rugby.”
While Liam joins the boys, I detour to Eden’s hammock. I crouch beside her, tugging at her lopsided braid. “What are you reading, sweetheart?”
She ducks. “Daddy, you didn’t do a good job braiding. Don’t make it worse.”
“I thought you didn’t care how it turned out?”
She closes her book but keeps her thumb tucked between pages. “I just don’t want it more out of place.”
Her soft hair slips between my fingers as I tuck loose strands behind her ear. A swell of fatherly pride warms my chest. I’ve watched several how-to videos over the years whenever she wants me to braid her hair, but I’ve never mastered the skill.
“Your braiding’s terrible.” She shakes a finger at me. “That’s why I only let you braid it when we’re home.”
“Smart girl.” My little girl is growing up too fast. A chill grips me. I haven’t prepared her to be a teen, but I don’t know how. “Want to join us for football with your brothers?”
“Not after that earlier rugby game. Mr. Liam had us playing forever .” Still, she smiles before returning to her book.
I used to read the same books alongside her, something we did together, but she’s a more voracious reader than I can keep up with. Lately, spontaneous games with her seem to be slipping away. “We’ll leave in ten minutes, okay?”
She nods, absorbed in her reading.
I leave her lost to her pages and join Liam on the grassy field. Still slightly gold, it already hints at the deep green it will soon display.
We engage in a game of touch football, the rules more relaxed.
“What happened to tackle football, eh?” Liam pants, dodging his six-year-old son in a mock sprint.
“Remind me how we hold the ball, Daddy.” Atticus poses for a throw, his forehead shining from his efforts.
“Can we go home and play video games now?” Felix’s shoulders drop in a dramatic sag. We’re barely five minutes into the game. This kid and his video games!
“Let’s enjoy this game for now.” I nod.
Liam gives Felix a reassuring backslap to revive his spirits. “Maybe if we played real football.”
“Real football it is, then.” I switch gears to the more spirited game. We allow some mild tackles, and the kids’ excitement level skyrockets, their laughter and shouts resounding now. I chase after Atticus and bring him gently to the ground, his squeals infectious, a perfect uplift on any given day.
“We have to get home and get ready for Valentina.” I remind them as we stash the balls in the toy bin under the tree and say goodbye to our friends.
“I can’t wait to play soccer with Val.” Atticus’s small legs match my stride on the smooth paved road as we head back to our house.
“I don’t think she’ll play today, kiddo.” My mind drifts to the fluttery dress she wore while running barefoot in the yard. Of course, that was before she knew I’d be her boss. She’s only coming to see the house and the town if she can stand my company long enough.
Felix chats up plans for his next video game conquest. Atticus lays out his intent to adopt a squirrel after one darts across the path. Eden walks beside me, her earlier engagement with her book still lingering in her subdued demeanor.
“What’s the point of a nanny when you’re going to fire her anyway?” Her serious question belies her age.
“Who said I’m going to fire her?” I pull her into a side hug as we walk. She’s perhaps terrified of letting people in, afraid they won’t stay. I don’t blame her. We haven’t had long-term constants in our lives, except my mom.
She rolls her eyes. “You always fire nannies.”
With Mom’s extended trip, the stability of a good nanny is a necessity. Unfortunately, no nanny has stuck around long enough to settle in. None make it past the chaos of a first weekend at Meadowbrook.
“I like Val.” Felix kicks a twig along the path.
“Daddy is not going to fire Val,” Atticus inserts.
I hadn’t expected them to overhear my conversation with their sister.
We arrive at home, a long structure of natural fieldstone and gray siding. The annex where Mom stays when she visits connects to the house.
Inside, the living room is a battlefield of Nerf guns, toy cars, and scattered darts. I’ve lost the ongoing struggle to keep order in the house. I have so many other things to manage.
My shirt clings to me, and I feel sticky.
“I need to shower.” I clap the way I do whenever I need to express urgency to the kids. “You guys should shower too.”
Eden doesn’t need further prompting. She’s off to her room in an instant, likely to escape into solitude or her book.
“Can I play SteamRush first?” Felix tries his luck with a car-racing video game, already veering toward the living room.
“Shower first.” I tip my head toward the hallway on the opposite side. The kids disperse, and I head to my bedroom, the first room in the hallway. Not until I strip off my clothes in the bathroom and step into the shower does my mind wander to our anticipated guest again. She’s sharp, smart-mouthed, and keen to challenge me. But ultimately, it’s all about the kids. Like Mom said, maybe this time, I can make it right for them.
The water cascades over me. I reflect on the chaotic stream of nannies these last months. If Valentina can handle our life, maybe she’s the stability we need. I must give this my best for the kids’ sake.