2. Cookies For Two
TWO
COOKIES FOR TWO
TATUM
I was nearly at the point of giving up hope of finding care for Josie when the app on my phone dinged, alerting me to a new applicant.
I begrudgingly stared at the screen, waiting to see another beyond underqualified teen applying because the pay was set high.
As I scroll through the application, my jaw hangs slack.
The schooling and completed degrees this applicant has far exceeded my expectations.
Shocked? No. Maybe excited is the better word for it.
I accept the application so that the app will allow me to view the profile behind it.
From her picture, she looks to be in her early twenties, with dark hair that appears to go past her shoulders, and maybe stretched ears. She’ll definitely fit right in at this house.
While I rock Josie to sleep for her nap, the spark of interest doesn’t leave me. It’s been so hard finding care for Josie that I’ve been pushed past my breaking point. Everyone is underqualified, or my gut screams no .
Some would say I’m an overprotective mother—they would be right.
Being a single mom to a baby girl in the ever-bustling SoCal is scary as hell.
Not to mention, my own career choice—I make my living blasting my face online for views—the last thing I need is some creepy “fan” knowing too many details about our life.
I keep everything that is Josie, my little nugget, away from the public eye.
A few more alerts ping on my phone, and I can’t ignore the application any longer.
I type out, delete, and retype the message multiple times.
Each time, I try my damndest not to beg at this young woman’s feet to allow me to interview her.
My mouth is nearly drooling over the application and her credentials as my eyes scan over it again.
She responds almost immediately. Lylah will be here in an hour.
Baking cookies in the meantime is definitely the move.
I’m sliding the last few off the baking sheet and onto one of my favorite serving platters that never sees the light of day when the alarm system lets me know someone is in the driveway.
I grab the hand towel from the counter and hang it back on its hook, give the kitchen bar a once-over, and head to the door to greet who I hope is Josie’s new full-time nanny.
Our conversation has been flowing naturally.
Everywhere and everything between her education, why she decided to pursue this path, all the way down to her hobbies and niche interests.
She’s adorable and alluring in all the best ways, and I can feel it in my bones that Josie will take to her instantly.
“How rude am I? Would you like a drink? I can get you water, sparkling or flat, green tea, or I do have a small selection of sodas if you’d like?” I offer her.
“Thank you. Is your green tea iced?”
What are the kids saying these days? That this is swoon-worthy? Whatever. A fellow iced green tea lover in my presence. Fuck, my toes are tingling.
“It is. One sec.” I give her a smile and make my way to the fridge. I don’t miss the way her eyes follow me the whole way. I don’t know if she’s learning my fridge, or me, but I’m obsessed with her tentative nature.
I extend the glass to her and watch as full lips take a sip, and her metal lip ring that wraps around her beautiful bottom lip clinks on the glass. They leave the smallest smudge of dark mauve lipstick on the rim before she sets the glass down on a coaster.
She used a coaster.
Oh god, how do I ask her to move in right away?
“So, your living arrangements? I hate to be blunt, but this is a live-in position only. Josie needs around-the-clock care, and my work doesn’t always allow for this. I need someone I can trust with the most precious part of my life.”
“Of course. My studio is currently on a month-to-month basis—shocking in LA, I know—so it wouldn’t be a problem to let the landlord know and begin moving in within a few days since it’s nearly the end of the month.” Her finger traces the rim of her glass while she speaks .
I nod, considering my next words carefully.
“I’m prepared to offer you the job.” I watch as several emotions seem to pass over her stunningly painted features. I’m going to have to ask for makeup lessons at some point.
“Seriously? I mean, I accept,” she squeals.
Her enthusiasm is grossly contagious, and despite my best efforts, I get excited too.
I want Josie to meet her right away, but I know she probably has other things to do today, considering this interview was so last minute.
Josie will be awake soon anyway, and post-naptime haze is not the best time to introduce strangers. Even such likable ones as Lylah.
“Depending on your schedule, I would love to arrange for you to come back tomorrow and meet Josie. I think you two will hit it off, but sleepy Josie is no one’s friend. Not to mention, she’ll be hungry as soon as she wakes,” I pause. “Josie is still breastfed.”
I wait for the disgust or awkward looks, even the blushing most people give when I announce such a thing, but none of it comes.
I don’t know what it is about LA, but most gawk when I tell them I chose to breastfeed.
I’m a big fan of fed is best, but along with the many other issues we’ve run into since Josie was born, bottle feeding was just another on the mile-long list. She’s never successfully taken a bottle until a couple of weeks ago, and I never had a choice before.
“Super understandable! Mama always knows best. I can give you my number and you can text me with what time works best for you and little?” Her voice is sweet, understanding, everything I’ve been looking for.
I bet she sings a mean lullaby too. Every part of me wants her to stay longer; I want more time to get to know her and learn what makes her—her.
“Yes, I absolutely will.” I pull out my phone, and she gives me her number while I save her contact information.
“Annnnnd let’s add a photo,” I say, pulling up the camera when she strikes a pose, flashing a perfectly white smile and the cutest tooth gem glinting against the light.
She does the same with her phone, snapping a picture of what I’m sure is me looking like an absolute mess, but I don’t stress it.
Can’t I just bottle whatever energy it is oozing from this girl?
“Stunning,” I coo, looking up from my phone and meeting her gaze. No one speaks for a moment as something passes between us, her finger still tracing the rim of her damn glass.
“Tomorrow then,” she says softly .
Tomorrow,” I confirm.
As I walk her to the door, I feel slightly awkward. We’ve connected on such a new level, so I don’t know if I should offer her a handshake or a hug, but Lylah makes the decision for me by offering a side hug.
“Thank you for letting me interview, and for offering the job to me—really. I’m very excited to meet Josie,” she says earnestly, and I nod, watching as she gets into her tiny car. I wave once more, closing the door behind me, and my body falls against it.
Why do I feel like I already miss this stranger?
I think this is the start of a very beautiful beginning, and maybe even an amazing friendship.