Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
ANGELO
Livy is her mother in every way. So much so, I sometimes wonder how much of my DNA I actually contributed.
Blonde hair so light it's almost white, and blue eyes so bright even the clearest ocean can't compete.
There are times looking at her hurts my heart.
Because my three little girls won't have their mother to ask questions as they grow up.
But right now it hurts a little more as I watch Gracie stare at Livy. I can see the million thoughts running through her head. I just wish I knew what they were.
I put Gracie's thoughts out of my mind and turn my attention to my daughters with a smile. "Livy, Zoey. I would like you to meet Gracie, our new tenant and Everly's nanny while I'm at work."
Zoey, my overly enthusiastic and talkative middle child, is the first to respond.
"Hi, Gracie." She waves her hand a million miles a minute.
"I'm Zoey. I'm six years old and in the first grade.
This is my sister Olivia. She's eight and in the third grade.
That's Everly." She points to where her younger sister is sitting on the floor.
"She's only three and not in school yet. How old are you?"
I choke out a cough at the bluntness that is my middle child. "Zoey, it's not polite to ask an adult their age." I attempt to correct my daughter without hurting her feelings, simultaneously giving Gracie an apologetic look.
It was a pointless worry, though, because instead of being upset by my words, Zoey’s innocent curiosity takes over. "Why not? I told her my age. It's only fair I know hers. You're always saying if I get something, it's only fair my sisters do as well."
Well, she isn't wrong. And this is one of those times my words come back to bite me in the ass.
I rub the spot between my eyebrows and try to come up with a way to explain socially acceptable questions, but Gracie answers first. "I'm thirty-three. And what I think your father is trying to say is that some people might get upset if you asked them their age."
"Why?" Zoey looks genuinely confused by that answer. "Birthdays are the best."
I try to hide a laugh. Birthdays to a kid are the best, but how do I explain that the same can’t always be said for adults past a certain age. Once again, I don't have to say anything, because Gracie is here to save the day.
"They are the best, aren't they."
Zoey nods her head eagerly while Livy hangs back behind her sister, watching this all play out.
It’s always been that way between the two of them.
You’d think, as the older sister, Livy would be the one to take charge.
But that isn't the case. Livy has always been happy to let both of her sisters hog the limelight.
Gracie turns her attention to my oldest daughter and her expression softens to a point that I swear Gracie’s whole focus is on that conversation and that conversation only. "It's nice to meet you, Livy. I hope you don't mind me eating dinner with you tonight."
Livy shakes her head but doesn't say anything. Of course her younger sister is more than happy to answer for her.
"She's happy you're here, right, sissy?" Zoey twirls around and faces her wide-eyed sister who slowly nods her head yes. "Livy thinks you won't like her. We talked about it upstairs," my daughter tells Gracie matter-of-factly.
Livy's eyes grow exponentially bigger at Zoey's admission, and I mentally slap my forehead. I should've seen this coming.
"Zoey . . ." I sigh, but Gracie proves she knows exactly how to handle a very honest child, and I’m stuck shocked by her response.
"Then I guess dinner is the perfect chance for us to talk and get to know each other. So I can prove I like her very much."
Livy gives the new nanny a shy smile and my heart picks up in rhythm. If I don't get things moving along, I'm going to end up saying something to Gracie I don't think either of us is ready for.
"Livy, Zoey, can you start setting the table? Dinner is almost ready."
"Sure, Daddy." Zoey vibrates with energy. "Can Gracie help us?"
"Gracie’s our guest and guests don’t have to help, but of course she can if she wants to. It's completely up to her."
I leave them to it, heading back to the stove to mix the stir-fry.
I push the food around in the wok, trying not to make it obvious that I'm eavesdropping on the conversation between my girls and Gracie.
For someone who claims not to know a thing about kids, Gracie is holding her own quite well.
I'm also learning quite a lot about my little nanny.
Favorite color: green.
Favorite animal: tiger.
Favorite food: pizza.
I mean, who doesn't love pizza. It's practically a staple in our house when I'm not in the mood to cook.
Favorite dessert: lemon lush.
I've never even heard of that, but I'll definitely be looking it up.
The questions continue as I finish dinner and begin to plate it. They only stop after everyone is seated around the table and actively eating.
"Livy, how was school today?" I try to bring some normalcy to the meal by asking the same question I do every day while we eat.
"I had a math test."
I drop my fork on my plate and place my palm against my forehead. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I completely forgot that was today. How do you think you did?"
Livy likes to review in the mornings before she goes to school when she has a test. Most of the time, I remember. And when I don't, she reminds me. It's not like her to forget.
My oldest daughter shrugs. "It was easy. Three-digit-by-three-digit addition. I'm pretty sure I got a hundred."
"That's awesome, and I'm so sorry I forgot. But why didn't you remind me? I would've made sure we had time this morning to go over a problem or two."
Livy shrugs again but doesn't look me in the eye when she responds. "You had a lot to do today, and I already knew how to do it."
I look over at Gracie, who is staring at Livy with a frown on her face.
I'm pretty sure she's thinking the same thing I am.
The only thing different about today is that Gracie is having dinner with us.
The kids knew it was happening, but I didn't think I made that big of a deal about it.
Not to the point where they would think nothing else mattered.
"I'm never too busy to help you study," I remind my daughter and myself. The hope on her face kills me because it shouldn’t have to be there. It's my responsibility to keep track of those things, and I vow to do better going forward.
The rest of dinner is pretty normal. Zoey does most of the talking while Everly makes a mess. I never remember Livy or Zoey being this messy when they were toddlers, but I guess it's true what they say about the third child—They really don't give a fuck.
"Why don't you girls go pick a movie for us to watch tonight?" I say as I start to clear the table.
Gracie eagerly jumps up. "I can clean up while you help them. It's only fair since you made dinner."
I'm at the garbage, scraping plates before I answer. "It's fine, really. Go with the girls. This will only take me a few minutes. I’ll load the dishwasher and then join you."
Gracie looks like she wants to argue, but Zoey grabs her hand and yanks her in the direction of the living room, effectively cutting off any further protest.
I use the familiarity of rinsing off the plates and loading them in the dishwasher to bring myself back down to reality.
The more time at dinner I had to think about what Livy said, the more I realized she's right.
I had seemed too busy that morning for her, and that isn't like me.
I've always put the girls’ needs first, and that can't change just because I'm having feelings for Gracie.
With the dishwasher started, I head into the living room and find a spot waiting for me between Everly and Livy. Gracie is on the other side of Everly, and Zoey has glued herself to the woman who can make my insides melt with a single look.
I fortify my walls just a little higher and settle in for a nice evening.
An hour and a half later, as the ending credits scroll across the screen, we’re all in the same positions we started in.
I don't think my kids have ever stayed in one spot during a movie. Honestly, I don’t think my kids have ever stayed in one spot for longer than thirty minutes.
I'm not sure what kind of sorcery Gracie has over them, or if it's just the fact that someone new has joined us, but it's nice knowing we could make it through a full movie. Even if it is a kids’ one.
"Shower and bedtime," I tell the girls, receiving dramatic groans in response. I give them my best stern-parent look and their moods instantly shift to goodnights for Gracie before running upstairs.
"Give me an hour to get them showered and in bed. Then we can do something that doesn't involve princesses."
I realize after the words leave my mouth how dorky that sounds, but if Gracie notices, she doesn't say anything. Instead she nods her head in agreement and hope fills my chest.
I can give Gracie my time. It just needs to be when the kids are asleep or at school. Basically, anytime when the kids don’t need me. At least until I figure out where Gracie fits into our world.