Chapter 5
The Nanny’s First Day
When I asked Thyri her permission to run a background check, it was a test to see if she was hiding anything or came with bullshit.
Her ‘yes’ wasn’t immediate, but I understood the reason behind her hesitance.
However, the background check was happening whether she agreed to it or not.
Her willingness gave her a one up in my book.
I didn’t allow people in my space without knowing who they were, who they were connected to, and who they came from.
I took no one at face value and didn’t make moves on vibes or anyone’s words alone.
You had to show more than tell. And here I was, two days after our initial meeting, going through the files my aunt sent to my email.
At fifty-six years old, my Aunty Juanita was the Sullivan family’s go to when we needed information.
She was a beast on the computer and could get in anywhere we needed her.
I had two files containing all things Thyri Anderson. Aunt Juanita had run a standard background check first that included her criminal, employment, and credit history. Everything was clean. She didn’t have so much as a speeding ticket on record. A real law-abiding citizen.
And then we dug deeper, searching the people closest to her, immediate family and associates included.
I confirmed that she did have a teenage son and a father who was in a rehabilitation center.
A mother and sister who lived out of state and an ex-husband who still contributed from behind the wall.
At least that was what the first of the month transfers into her account labeled monthly bills stated.
Of course, I looked into his charges then did a street analysis on him.
Nothing came back that I was concerned about.
I didn’t want to scare her off, so the extent of the background check that included her family, I’d keep to myself.
Having carefully thumbed through the files, I was ready to move forward, so I opened up a new draft to send her an email.
To: Thyri.Anderson@
Good afternoon, Thyri,
I hope this message finds you well. I wanted to reach out to let you know that your background check came back clean. If you’re still interested in the position, feel free to give me a call at your convenience. My cell number is 917-364-4140.
I read the email over after hitting send and wished I’d gone over it beforehand. That whole ‘I hope this message finds you well’ shit sounded so corny. The cost of being professional.
My phone rang minutes later on my desk with an incoming call from an unsaved number. I rarely gave out my personal number. Figuring it was Thyri, I answered on the third ring.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Enzo. It’s Thyri.” Her voice was upbeat.
“Wassup, Thyri? How’s your day going?” I asked casually.
There was a brief pause. I could hear movement in the background, followed by a clinking noise.
“Give me one second,” she said before the phone went silent. After a few seconds, her voice came through again. “Sorry about that. I was fighting for my life trying to hang this garland. I got your email. Thanks for the update. As far as the position, I’m ready when you are.”
“Cool. I know you mentioned only being available on alternate weekends. With today being Saturday, would you be available to come by the house for a few hours? You can see EJ in his element and see how we run our day to day.”
“Sure. My son left me for the weekend, and I checked on my father, so I’m free.”
“Sounds good. I’m gonna shoot the address to you via text, and I’ll see you in a few.”
“Perfect. Thanks again for the opportunity.”
“You’re welcome.”
She hung up first, and I sent the address over. Shutting my computer down, I walked out of my office and down the hall to Enzo’s room. We’d just finished having a breakfast of champions and morning conversation. Pushing his room door open, I found him trying to pull the sheets off his bed.
“What happened, dawg?” I asked the question but kinda knew the answer from the small pair of Hanes boxers on the floor next to the bed.
“I pee, Daddy. I sorry.”
I smiled. “You good, man. Accidents happen. But I can’t have you wit’ your Johnson all out. Come get in the tub, and Daddy will change the sheets, aight?”
“Okayy,” he dragged out with his head down.
“Head up, EJ. Daddy not mad. Come here.” He walked over to me, covering himself with his small hands. “Hold your head up.” He lifted his head. “Were you holding your pee?”
“I hold it.”
“Don’t do that no more, aight? When you gotta go, go. Big boys don’t pee on they self.”
“Okay.”
“Aight. Come on.”
Ushering him to the bathroom, I helped him wash up and change.
He was well on his way to being fully potty trained, only wearing pull ups at night.
Even then, I made sure to take him to the bathroom whenever I got up.
I couldn’t have my boy being labeled as anyone’s piss pot, so potty training before three was a must. After tossing the sheets and blanket into the wash, he helped me put on fresh linen.
As I chilled with him in his room, I remembered that I hadn’t given Thyri a time to come through. Pulling my phone from my basketball shorts, I sent her a text.
Me: I just noticed I hadn’t given you a time to come by. Does two o’clock work for you?
347-497-8437: It does. I meant to ask you the other day, is EJ potty trained?
Me: He’s at about 85%. We plan to be fully potty trained before January 1st.
347-497-8437: We’ll make it happen. See you soon.
Reading her text, I looked over at EJ, who sat in his recliner with his hand behind his head. I’d secured a nanny. Now, I had to sit back and watch things play out.
Thyri pulled up to the house a few minutes before two.
I stood at the front window, watching her pull a white Range into my driveway.
Yonkers was quieter than the city. I lived in a ducked off neighborhood where people pretty much stayed to themselves.
It was one of the reasons I’d chose it out of the four houses my cousin, Minnie, had me tour.
It was private and spacious, more house than me and EJ needed but the perfect fit, nonetheless.
I watched as she stepped out of her car, swinging her purse over her shoulder and glancing behind her before proceeding to the front door.
She was aware. Alert. Her movement seemed like it was second nature to her, like something she’d learned growing up.
I made mental note about it. Being alert was an important part of her job.
Walking over to the door, I opened it before she could knock.
“Reporting for duty.” She smiled.
“Come in,” I said, gesturing with my head for her to come inside. “I can take your coat.”
“Thank you.” Pulling her full length coat off, she handed it to me.
As I walked around her to hang her coat up, I caught a glimpse of her ass.
That mothafucka was shaped like the ripest peach.
I wasn’t sure what I expected for her nanny attire, but if this yoga set she had on was the standard, I was wit’ it.
Yeah, I had told Aura I wasn’t looking for a date, and I really wasn’t on the market for a woman.
A nigga had eyes though. And I hoped that she had this set in every color.
“It’s really cozy in here. And it smells good. You sure there’s no woman living here?” She turned to me with her hand on her hip.
I chuckled. “Why a woman gotta live here for a nigga shit to be clean and smell good? How you know I don’t take the trips to Burlington Maxx and At Home for the smell good shit and cozy shit?”
She covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. “I would’ve believed you had you not combined the names of two stores. It’s Burlington and TJ Maxx.”
“Oh,” I replied, caught. “I mean, I do shit. For the most part, when my moms see something that fits the house, she just picks it up, drops it off to me, and I make it work.”
“You’re doing a good job,” she complimented.
“Thank you.”
“If you don’t mind, I brought some shoes to change into. I didn’t want to track snow all on your floor, and I don’t wanna walk around barefoot.”
“That’s cool. You can change, and I’ll put your boots in the laundry room. EJ just went down for a nap not too long ago, so I’ll give you a quick tour.”
“Naps are essential so good for him.”
Once she was changed into a pair of bedazzled Crocs, I gave her the tour. We started in the laundry room, then the living room, kitchen, dining room, EJ’s playroom, the two guest bedrooms, and guest bathrooms. I left EJ’s room for last, wanting him to show her around once he was up.
“This is a kid’s playground,” she commented, as I closed the door to the playroom.
“Yeah. I think all the options overstimulate him sometimes. That’s why he’s usually in his room or my room, flipping on some shit.”
She laughed, following me into the kitchen where we sat at the island to talk the numbers and duties.
She was direct with her expectations. Asked questions that mattered.
Repeated numbers back to me for clarification and basically negotiated her own salary with no objection from me.
We also discussed ways to go about caring for EJ.
I was clear on what worked, and she gave her insight from a mom standpoint.
“Kids thrive when there’s consistency and a schedule in place.” She pointed out after I mentioned that EJ didn’t really have a set schedule or a bedtime.
“So, I shouldn’t let him tire himself out by bouncing off the wall?”
“I’m not necessarily saying that. But if he had a schedule he ran off of, it wouldn’t take bouncing off the walls for him to be tired. And I know schedule sounds so formal, but there’s ways to make that fun. Same when it comes to potty training.”
I nodded slowly, stroking my goatee. “I see. Well, you’re the new sheriff on the block. I’m open to see your way of doing things.”
“I’m not the new sheriff. We’re a team. Team EJ,” she said proudly with her fist out.