2. Ryan
RYAN
Damn, she’s beautiful. I try to stop myself from noticing, but it’s useless. The woman standing in front of me is a sight to behold. She has the prettiest brown eyes, her face is framed by curly auburn hair, and her curves threaten to pull my mind into the filthiest places.
It’s a miracle that I have enough self-control to prevent that from happening.
“Uh—yes. I’m Karin,” she says, then falls silent as she stares at me. After a few seconds, she says, “Why don’t you come in?”
I step inside. “You have a beautiful home.”
“Thank you.” She looks lost for a second, as if she’s the guest. “We can talk in the living room. Would you like something to drink?”
“No, I’m good. Thank you, though.”
I soak in my surroundings as she leads me through the house. Her home is full of well-loved furniture, the walls are covered in framed photos and homemade art, and there are toys and books scattered about. The houseplants look in need of some love, but they’re all still hanging in there.
My eyes trail back to Karin—specifically, to the way her hips fill out the wide-leg pants she’s wearing. Jesus, what am I doing? Her husband could be in the other room. This isn’t like me.
“So, Ryan, can you tell me a little about your experience as a nanny?” she asks as we sit down across from each other in her living room.
I nod and dive right in, telling her about how I looked after my younger siblings when I was growing up, and how that eventually turned into babysitting for other families. As I tell her about how rewarding this work is to me, and how it feels like my calling, a smile spreads across her lips.
“That’s sweet,” she says. “I can tell how much you care about what you do.”
I’m about to tell her about the certifications I have when I notice a curious pair of eyes peering around a nearby wall. I smile at the eavesdropper, and she quickly pulls away, hiding behind the wall.
Karin looks over her shoulder. “Amelia?”
There’s no response at first. But then the curious eyes peer out again.
“Are you going to be my nanny?” the young girl asks, squinting at me.
“That’s up to your mom,” I say.
She steps out from behind the wall and comes over to us, still sizing me up with discerning eyes.
“Why are you so handsome?” she asks, frowning at me.
I burst out laughing. Meanwhile, Karin’s cheeks go bright red.
“Amelia!” she says.
“What?” her daughter protests, and points at me. “Look at him, Mom!”
Karin shoves her daughter’s hand down and gives me a mortified look. “I’m so sorry. Sometimes she has zero filter.”
“It’s okay,” I say, still laughing. “Thanks, Amelia. That’s very nice of you to say.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” she says, folding her arms in front of her chest.
“Amelia.” Karin pulls her daughter close to her, whispers something in her ear, and gives her a meaningful look.
Amelia drops her folded arms and looks at me again. “Sorry. That was rude. Would you like to see my room? I have some really cool toys.”
“I’d love that,” I say. “Is it okay if I finish talking to your mom, though?”
Amelia thinks for a second, then nods. Then she skips away, humming to herself as she goes.
“Cute kid,” I say to Karin.
“Thanks. She, uh…speaks her mind, as you just saw. Sorry again about that.”
“It’s all good.” I smile. “And it’s just her, right?”
Karin nods. “Yep. She’s my one and only. I mean, I’d love to have more kids, but it’s overwhelming to think about as a single mom.”
A single mom. Interesting. Is she divorced? Widowed? And she’d love to have more kids…it shouldn’t have an effect on me, hearing her say that, but I feel it deep in my chest.
Right in the same spot that I feel a longing for a family of my own.
On my first day of looking after Amelia, I drive her to the day camp she’s enrolled in for the next couple of weeks. I make sure she has everything she needs before seeing her off, and then I hang out in the parking lot for another fifteen minutes just in case. You never know when a kid is going to change their mind about something. But when I spot Amelia having fun with the other kids, I feel okay driving away.
While Amelia is at the camp, I swing by a local nursery to pick up some houseplant fertilizer and a big bag of potting soil. Then I drive over to the grocery store and get all the things on the list that Karin gave me. Or, I should say, the list that I had to talk her into making. I don’t know why she was so resistant to it.
Well, I guess I do. It must be hard for Karin to hand things off to other people, especially since she’s used to doing everything on her own.
Later, when I pick up Amelia, she’s bursting with energy. She talks nonstop on the drive home, telling me about all the different kids she met, and all the different activities they did.
“I’m glad you had such a good time,” I say, grinning at her in the mirror as we pull up in front of her house.
“You’re going to eat dinner with us, right, Ryan?” she asks. “Please say you are.”
“Sorry. Not tonight. Maybe another time, okay?”
“Oh.” She sounds disappointed. “Do you have a date or something? Is that why?”
“Nope. No date.”
“You should eat with us, then. My mom is a really good cook. Everything she makes is delicious.” She jumps out of the car, and as she rushes toward the house, she yells out, “I’m going to ask her if you can stay!”
I grab the groceries and the potting soil out of the back of my car and carry it all into the house. As I’m setting everything down, Amelia rushes up to me, waving a scrap of paper in her hand.
“My mom left a note,” she says.
I take the note from her. Had to run out to show a client a house. I’ll be back soon. I look at Amelia and smile. “Your mom works really hard, doesn’t she?”
Amelia nods. “Roger that. She does.” She climbs up onto one of the kitchen stools and peers into the grocery bag. “Did you get anything fun from the store?”
“Hmm. Let’s see.” I start to unpack the paper bag. “Bananas. Those are fun, right?”
Amelia scrunches up her nose. “They’re okay.”
I pull out a box of crackers. “How about this?”
“Did you get anything sweet?” Amelia asks impatiently.
“You mean…like this?” I ask, pulling out a carton of ice cream.
“Yes!” Amelia’s eyes sparkle with excitement. “Can we have a little?”
“Before dinner?” I give her a skeptical look. “As tempting as that sounds, I think we should wait.”
She sighs. “Okay. Fine.”
I start to put away the groceries. “Do you know if your mom had something planned for dinner?”
Amelia shrugs.
“Maybe we should start cooking, then. Do you think she’d like that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“I think it will be a nice surprise. Come on. Put on your chef hat and let’s get cooking.”
Amelia giggles. “I don’t have a chef hat.”
“No? We’ll have to make one real quick, then.”
“Okay. I’ll gather supplies.” She hops off the stool and starts to run off, then halts and spins around, her hands flying to her waist. “Don’t start cooking without me!”
“Yes, Chef,” I say, giving her a salute.