Chapter 5 – Safari Patrol
Rosalie
There’s a big difference between being in bed and being asleep, especially when it comes to kids. We’ve established a truce for nights like this. Wyatt and Callie want to wait up for their dad, and I want to finish cleaning up the kitchen and not have them up late raiding the pantry.
This truce is why I’m currently stomping up the stairs past the nightlight casting me as an elongated shadow on the wall.
Besides my cutoffs and tank top, I’m wearing a set of kid binoculars that swing from my neck, and I have a safari hat on my head.
I’m also in the boots Liam uses for when he turns on the flood irrigation in the backyard.
I have to stomp carefully, or I’ll trip and fall right out of them.
I don’t question the outfit. It’s Callie’s version of what an angry hall monitor would look like, and the two of them are strangely afraid to be caught by me when I’m dressed like this.
The carpet under my feet mutes most of the noise, but I do my best to announce my presence with each stomp.
“Who’s out of bed?” I holler, putting the binoculars up to my eyes as I pass by their rooms. Wyatt is professional at feigning sleep.
He should go into acting. He turns over and sighs and everything.
His fake snoring could use some work, though.
Callie is a squirmy giggler with her blankets kicked all the way to the end of the bed, but she is in her bed, so all I do is waggle my finger at her and tell her I’ll get her next time. She reaches for her covers and pulls them up over her head.
I’ve just bought myself ten minutes. They might even be asleep for real when I make my next rounds.
Slipping out of the boots, I carry them downstairs and set them next to me on the floor with the hard plastic hat resting on top.
Then I wash the dinner dishes and clean up the last of our baking mess.
This brownie pan is killer. I should have greased it better.
With my phone propped up on the counter by the sink, I watch reel after reel of completely scripted America’s Got Talent judge reactions, and yet I still cry when Simon declares, “That was the best version of that song I’ve ever heard.
Your mum would be so proud.” The contestant is crying.
One of the lady judges is crying. We’re all crying.
I don’t even know what happens if they win.
Not to mention, these clips are wicked old.
All these people have moved on. Except me, caught up in the emotions of the moment.
Once I’m finished in the kitchen, I dry my hands and slip back into the boots and hat to make what’s hopefully my final trip upstairs. It’s been a lot more than ten minutes since I last checked on the kids. They’ve definitely either fallen asleep or gone feral. Sometimes even the best truces fail.
I’m quieter this time. No stomping. The hallway is clear.
So far, so good. A peek into Wyatt’s room tells me he gave up on the book he was reading and fell asleep.
The pages of his Bad Guys book are getting mashed by his pillow, so I sneak in and rescue the book, smoothing it out and setting it on his nightstand. He doesn’t even stir.
Callie is not quite asleep, but she’s close. I watch from the doorway while she tosses and turns with her eyes closed, hugging her threadbare giraffe. “I did good, Ro,” she whispers. “You didn’t catch me.”
I guess I’m not as sneaky as I thought.
“You did, sweetheart.”
She yawns, her eyes still closed. “Tell Daddy we saved him some brownies.”
“I will.”
When her breathing evens out, I turn and lightly clomp my way back to the stairwell, leaning against the wall to ease the first boot off.
“Quite the outfit.”
I jolt at the sudden appearance of Liam below me and start to fall forward.
The panic doesn’t hit until my hands miss the railing and Liam is racing up the stairs to catch me.
Which he does, with my stupid hard plastic safari hat nailing him in the chest as we both crumple and find purchase against the wall.
I’m pretty sure I knocked the wind out of him, and our panic is as intertwined as his arms around me in a vise lock.
Between that and the strap of the binoculars cutting off my circulation, I’m not breathing all that well either.
And yet, I’m afraid to move, afraid we’re not done falling and this is just part one. It all happened so fast.
He finally takes a step down to steady himself and relaxes his hold on me. It’s then he notices the binocular strap trying to strangle me and unwinds it from around my neck before taking the binoculars off, along with the hat that stayed put thanks to its very attractive chin strap.
“You okay?” I ask him.
He nods, looking me in the eyes. “You scared me. I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared. Ro, what if I hadn’t caught you?”
The mixture of concern and relief in his face has my tear ducts filling up.
He never looks at me this intently, and boy, is it potent.
And he called me Ro. This is bad. This is so bad.
The man just returned from a date. Everything from his perfectly fitted shirt to his dreamy cologne testifies of it.
Now I really am crying.
“Oh, no. Don’t do that.” He reaches up to wipe a tear away and stops himself. I see the moment he realizes what he’s doing, the moment his walls go up.
He takes another step down, very subtly putting more space between us. “I shouldn’t have startled you like that. I’m sorry.”
“Only a robot wouldn’t comment on this outfit, Liam.” I laugh and wipe at my eyes. “It’s meant to be ridiculous.”
“Did you lose a bet?”
That has me laughing harder. “Something like that. It’s more like an agreement with your kids about staying in bed.”
“I wondered if I was losing my mind. My irrigation boots kept moving just slightly from their spot by the back door. How often do you… borrow them?”
“Anytime I watch them at night.” I reach down and take the last boot off and set it to the side. I’m not sure if the other one fell past us or stayed upstairs.
“Well, let’s get you a pair that fits right and won’t trip you up.” He pulls out his phone and begins to type.
“Are you seriously trying to buy me a pair of boots right now?” I lean over to see his screen. The man is on .
“Yes. What’s your shoe size?”
“Eight. So, is this going under household expenses?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I’d protest, but this is exactly why we created the budget in the first place. There’s room for the ridiculous, whether that’s his opinion or mine. And I really don’t want to fall down the stairs again.
He shows me a pair, and I nod. Callie will love them on me. They’re black and sleek, but their tan soles will match the safari hat.
He puts his phone away and we fall back into our normal routine, where he goes upstairs and peeks in on the kids, and I gather up my things before we meet up in the kitchen.
Per the usual, we keep the large island counter between us as a buffer.
I appreciate the physical space now more than ever.
The adrenalin from my fall is still coursing through me, and I’m a little shaky from being so up close and personal with Liam, though I hate to admit that.
I see he’s bought the bag of clementines and the box of chips for Wyatt’s basketball game, and I grasp onto that as a topic of conversation.
“Thanks for grabbing snacks.”
“No problem. Have you thought more about when Callie goes off to kindergarten?” he asks.
“Yeah. I’ve decided to substitute teach. I’ll be certified, so I’ll make more than a regular sub, and I can follow lesson plans, so I’ll be an asset to the teacher. But on days when I need to be here, I can be here. Would you be okay with that?”
“Of course. I think that’s perfect.” He looks away and then back at me. “Will it be enough for you?”
Will it be enough for me? I really hate that question, because it pokes at something I don’t like to think about.
It is enough for me. More than enough. But when I think of other people judging it, my life feels small.
I put my career on hold for these kids, and I did it gladly.
I could always go back to teaching full-time, but I’m not in any hurry.
“I know it’s not the most glamorous job,” I finally say.
He quickly holds his hand up to stop me.
“That’s not what I meant. Whether it’s my two kids or a whole classroom, you’re the best influence anyone could have.
I’m grateful for you, more than you’ll ever know, but I don’t want my gratitude to trap you here if you need to be somewhere else, doing something else.
I guess what I’m saying is… don’t let….” He runs both hands through his hair, which is a lot more unruly than when he first got here. It’s been a wild last ten minutes.
I can’t help filling in the words he can’t find. “You don’t want me to go, but you’d figure it out if you had to?”
He smiles. “Yeah. I hope you’ll always be in their life in one form or another. But you never know. You might decide it’s time to become an astronaut.”
“That’s my backup plan if the substitute teaching doesn’t work out.”
“Solid.”
I’m glad he’s teasing me. It’s easier than admitting I’m not interested in an ambitious backup plan. Being a nanny fulfills me. But am I destined to leave my heart with every family that takes me in? I don’t know if I’m built for that. I’m so lost in thought that I almost miss his next words.
“We can’t keep you forever. You might get married and move away.”
“So could you.”
We stare at each other for a beat, and it’s a different tension than on the stairs. I don’t see him scanning my face to make sure I’m okay. I see things being said that neither of us dare acknowledge aloud.
If he wasn’t at least a little bit attracted to me, he wouldn’t keep a whole island counter between us out of respect to his girlfriend.
And if I wasn’t at least a little bit attracted to him, I wouldn’t keep agreeing to the most atrocious blind dates set up by my less-than-discerning sister. I have another one next weekend.
“How was your night out?” I ask.
He shrugs and lets out a long breath. “Not good. Maggie and I broke up. Tonight. Not six months ago. You’re getting breaking news.”
He sounds both defeated and snarky. His emotions are showing. I’m really hoping mine aren’t. Which means it’s time for me to get out of here. I’m sure it’s what he’d prefer.
I pull out the brownies we saved for him and slide the plastic container across the counter. “I’m sorry. I won’t say I liked her for you because, unlike you, I value honesty.”
This makes him grin.
“Good night, Liam. Don’t give yourself indigestion.” I pick up my bag and quickly retreat.
“Good night,” he calls out softly.