Confessions from a Naughty Nanny

by Rayne, Piper

  This town isn’t that big. I can find his parents’ address. A protectiveness I’ve never felt for a child I barely know consumes me. Maybe it’s because I know what it’s like to be the different one.

  “No one. Can we go?” The plea in his voice pulls at my heart.

  I turn around and drive, but I go the opposite way of his house and head into downtown Lake Starlight instead. There are only a few ways to get over a shitty day. Since he’s not old enough to drink, comfort food will have to do.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” I ask.

  He sings along with the Tyler Vaughn song and shakes his head. “You know my dad hates this song.”

  “Really?” I look at him in the rearview mirror. “Didn’t he produce it?”

  He nods. “Every time I ask him to play it, he gets the same look as when my mom cancels plans with me.”

  My ears perk up at him referencing his mother. Other than her being the famous actress, Maggie Cooperton, I don’t know much about their situation. I have no idea how Griffin was allowed to bring Maverick up here to live.

  “Well, I love Tyler. I think your dad is uber-talented for what he did for him.” I turn up the volume and we sing along to the pop song.

  Maybe food isn’t the way to get Maverick to open up. Maybe it’s music, like me.

  During the high pitch area that technically isn’t Tyler’s best, I sing over him because I’m lost in the song.

  “Whoa. Phoenix.” I catch Maverick’s eyes widening when I glance in the rearview mirror. “You can sing?”

  My cheeks heat, which is strange because I’ve never in my life been embarrassed for anyone to hear me sing. “Yeah, ever since I was young. My mom loved to sing too.”

  It’s the truth. My mom sang all the time. While she cooked, especially when she baked. As she did yard work, or in the car. There always seemed to be music filling the walls of our house, which is why I find it odd that I’m the only one from our family who wants to do something musically.

  “Like she was a singer?” Maverick asks as I park on Main Street in front of Terra and Mare. Rome is outside, sweeping the sidewalk.

  “She was a singer, but not a famous one.”

  “Then she wasn’t a singer.” He unbuckles himself.

  I forgot how a kid’s world is so black and white. I’ve always considered myself a singer, even if I never make it big. But to Maverick, who comes from the world of celebrities, you’re not a singer unless you have millions of followers on Instagram.

  “Why are we here?” He looks at the restaurant.

  Rome walks over and stands in front of my car.

  “That’s my brother, Rome. He makes the best I-had-a-bad-day macaroni and cheese.”

  His shoulders slump. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

  Turning around in my seat, I hold up my finger to Rome. “And I won’t make you, but it’s my job as your nanny to make you happy. I’m hoping you love it as much as I did on bad days.”

  He looks at me as though he doesn’t understand why I care. I’ve seen that look in the mirror. Then that innocent eight-year-old boy disappears, and he straightens his back.

  “It’s not going to work, but I’m hungry so…” He opens the door, gets out, and slams it shut.

  Little does he know I’m familiar with having a chip on your shoulder too.

  * * *

  Maverick sits at a table near the corner, doing his spelling words while eating a bowl of mac and cheese courtesy of my big brother. Rome sits at the bar with me and we stare on as if he’s a science experiment.

  “So what happened?”

  “Some kid cornered him on the playground. That’s all he’s saying.”

  Rome crosses his arms. “I’m afraid when my kids get to that age, I’ll be in prison for beating the crap out of some little shit.”

  I put my hand on his shoulder. “I fear for you too. You need to relax.”

  He side-glances me with a “you’re out of your damn mind” expression. It’s cute how protective he is of his kids. I can’t fault him for it. The way I was ready to pull Maverick into the principal’s office and demand retribution makes me think I wouldn’t be much different.

  “How much for you to make me a dinner to bring home?”

  He laughs. “You’re supposed to cook for the guy too?”

  “Yeah, it’s not your typical nanny gig since Maverick is in school most of the day. I cook, clean, take care of any household chores, plus Maverick.”

  He stands from his stool. “You do know this is going to end badly, right? Like, once it all comes out why you took the job. The fact G’ma D lied. All of it.”

  “I didn’t take the job for the reason you think. Besides, I’m doing a pretty great job right now.” I look over at Maverick, who has a small smile on his face.

  Rome follows my gaze. “You did good today. That’s the first dish I perfected.”

  We share a look, and for a moment, my mind travels to the first time Rome made me mac and cheese. It was the day Jackson Irving told me that my dad killed my mom. The hurt from that day still burns in my gut, but it’s like a smoldering ember now, not a bonfire.

  “Kids are assholes,” Rome says as though his mind went to the memory too.

  Eight-year-old me crying at the kitchen table. Rome being the older sibling who had to be home to watch the younger ones, cursing that it was his day. Him not having any idea what to do with me and Sedona, because I’d shared with her what Jackson had said and she was upset too.

  A half hour later, he knocked on our bedroom door and told us to come downstairs. There were three bowls of mac and cheese on the table and a photo album of us the year prior when we went to Seward for a weekend as a family.

  Of course, even though Rome helped me feel better, I still kneed Jackson in the balls the next day.

  He squeezes my shoulder and stands from the stool. “Don’t forget the Founder’s Day Parade meeting,” he calls before he disappears into the kitchen.

  Shit. I look at my phone. I had completely forgotten that our family is meeting here to talk about the song we’re singing this year. It’s Kingston’s turn to pick.

  I pull out my phone and call Griffin.

  “Hey, Phoenix,” he answers.

  “Hey, I brought Maverick to my brother’s restaurant for an after-school snack. I forgot that I have a family meeting to attend. Do you mind if I keep him here with me and bring him home after dinner? I’ll bring you a meal as well. My brother is a great cook.”

  “I can come and get him. You have your family meeting.” There’s a pause. “I’ll be there in about twenty minutes. Let me shower quick.”

  A vision of a naked Griffin with droplets of water falling down his body flashes through my mind. I mentally slap myself. “If you’re sure.”

  He chuckles. “I’m sure. I told you I’m an easy boss.”

  “I know. But I completely forgot. I’m sorry.”

  “Phoenix, it’s fine.”

  I sigh, feeling like a disappointment for not remembering earlier and arranging to get Maverick home. “Okay.”

  We hang up, and I tell Maverick I’ll be right back, then I head into the kitchen. “I need a good meal for Griffin and Maverick, with sides.”

  Rome’s one step ahead of me, closing up a to-go container with what he’s serving the family tonight. After putting it all in a bag, he hands it to me. “Here you go.”

  I rise up to my tiptoes and kiss his cheek. “You’re the best.”

  “Hello!” Grandma Dori’s voice rings out, and I fall down to my heels.

  “Why is she early?” I whisper.

  Rome shakes his head. “She’s always early.”

  I leave the bag on the counter, and after I tell him about my phone call, Rome says he’ll put it in the warmer until Griffin arrives. I’m on my way out to the dining room when I hear Grandma asking Maverick what happened.

  “Chad Billings?” Grandma Dori says.

  “The Billings.” Rome sighs
, following me. “Family of assholes.”

  The Billings have almost as big a family as us. Since our names are near each other alphabetically, almost every year, there’s been a Billings next to a Bailey in the yearbook.

  “Chad is nothing. You can take him,” Grandma says, and Rome nudges me forward. She finally notices me. “Phoenix, you can’t have a Billings boy beating up poor Mav here.”

  “Maverick,” he corrects her.

  She stops talking, stares at him, then turns to me.

  “What am I going to do, fight his mom? How did you get out of him what happened?”

  She smiles like she always does when she gets what she wants out of people. “Fighting back doesn’t make it better. And what can I say, I have a connection with Mav.” She pats his hand.

  “Maverick,” he corrects her again.

  She doesn’t bother responding to him. “The Billings kid plays baseball. Rome can start a team and Maverick can beat his team. Then the kid will stop. It worked for Austin when that oldest Billings tried to bully him.”

  I look over my shoulder at Rome and smirk.

  “Sure, G’ma D,” he says. “Let me run a baseball team. You know, with all my free time.”

  Grandma pats Maverick’s hand. “Don’t worry, dear, we’ll get this figured out.”

  Maverick shrugs because I’m not sure he really cares.

  The door opens and a freshly showered Griffin appears. He looks at the state of Maverick, then at me. “Did you forget to tell me something on the phone?”

  Without another glance at me, he heads toward his child, further inspecting him.

  My stomach sinks. How did I forget to tell him about what happened to Maverick at school today? Maybe I do suck at this nanny thing.

  Nine

  Phoenix

  “The Billings,” Grandma says to Griffin as if he has any understanding of who they are. “They’re all bad seeds.”

  Griffin briefly looks at Grandma Dori then back at Maverick. “What happened?”

  “I don’t wanna talk about it.” Maverick pushes aside his bowl of mac and cheese.

  “Why did the school not call me about this?” Griffin seeks an answer from me, but how would I know? “I’m calling them first thing in the morning.”

  “Don’t, Dad. I told them that my shirt got caught on the chains from the swings.”

  Griffin swivels around and my shoulders sink, hearing the embarrassment in Maverick’s tone. He looks at Rome and me for a moment before falling on bended knee in front of his son’s chair. “Why?”

  “Because I’m not going to make friends by telling on people.”

  Griffin blows out a breath and runs a hand through his hair. I watch the movement with such intensity I guess that Rome elbows me. Again, the thought of Griffin naked in the shower accosts my brain and a dirty feeling washes over me. I need to stop these thoughts.

  “I’m not going to allow kids to be mean to you,” Griffin says.

  “I can handle myself. Don’t call the school,” Maverick pleads.

  “I told him that to beat the Billings boy, we need to set up a baseball team and kick their butts.”

  Griffin glances at Grandma Dori, obviously confused.

  “I don’t play sports,” Maverick says.

  “Every boy plays sports,” she says, her eyebrows crinkling as she looks at me.

  Of course she thinks that. All her grandsons played a sport. Hell, all of Lake Starlight heads out to the high school games because there isn’t much else to do in our small town. She won’t understand a kid who wants to play video games all the time.

  Griffin doesn’t say anything even if he’s thinking it. “We should go. We’ll talk in the truck.” He packs up Maverick’s backpack and swings it over his shoulder. His hand slips into his back pocket and he pulls out his wallet. “What do I owe you?”

  Rome holds up his hand. “Nothing.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah,” Rome says. “And I have a dinner for you.”

  Rome eyes me, and I startle out of my thoughts. “Yes. We have some dinner ready for you guys.”

  I run back into the kitchen, grab it out of the warmer, and bring it back to them. By the time I emerge, Griffin and Maverick are by the front door.

  “I’ll walk you out,” I say.

  Griffin takes the bag, his eyes on Rome only. “Please let me pay you something.”

  “No. We’re good. Promise.” Rome shakes his head.

  I follow them out of the restaurant, and Griffin puts Maverick in the truck, and the food in the back seat before looking at me. “I’ve got him for the rest of the night, so enjoy your family.”

  “Mr. Thorne.” I step forward and his hand falls from the handle of the truck.

  “It’s Griffin.”

  I nod and bite my lip. “I’m sorry. I was trying to get more information out of him. He was really shut off when I picked him up. I was just doing what used to work for me when I had a bad day at school. By the time I called you, he seemed to be over what happened and I forgot, but I shouldn’t have.”

  He steps up to me and places his hand on my upper arm. A rush of electricity bolts through my body. “It’s fine. I’m upset because of what happened to him at school. I mean yes, I do wish you would’ve called me immediately, but you tried to make him happy and that’s not a bad thing.”

  He squeezes my arm, and I want to step closer and feel those hands run down the length of my body. “All right?”

  “Okay. I’ll see you at home.”

  He climbs into his truck and pulls out of the parking spot before the word home resonates a warm feeling inside me. I like that I get to go home to Griffin after a family meeting because all this evening’s dinner will entail is a lot of arguing.

  “See!” Denver’s loud-ass voice pulls me away from watching Griffin’s taillights disappear down Main Street. “Look at her.”

  Cleo pushes down his arm. “She’s just watching him leave.”

  “I’ve got my eye on you, Phoenix.” He does the whole two fingers pointing at his eyes before turning them around to point at me.

  “Just go get a beer.” Cleo shoves him through the door of Terra and Mare.

  The two of them go inside, then it’s like a funeral procession, all of my family’s cars lining the street parking right in front of Terra and Mare. I wave and head inside to get this meeting over with because the sooner we finish, the sooner I’m back at Griffin’s.

  * * *

  The song “What Happens in a Small Town” by Brantley Gilbert and Lindsay Ell finishes playing through the restaurant speakers.

  “Kingston, that’s not a ‘thank you to Lake Starlight’ song,” Savannah says.

  Every year for the Founder’s Day Parade, one of us gets to pick a song which all nine of us will end up singing on a float, embarrassing ourselves. But it’s a Grandma Dori must and family tradition.

  “We’ve run out of thank you songs. It’s about a small town and truthfully”—Kingston turns on his brilliant smile as if it’s as easy as flicking on a light—“it reminded me of you and Liam.”

  “What?” She looks at Liam and his hand disappears under the table. “Let me listen to it again.”

  Kingston plays it again, and we all eat and listen in silence. I won’t mention that the song reminds me of Kingston and Stella, not Liam and Savannah, because I like the idea of going in a different direction than the thank you songs. Kingston is right—they’ve run their course and we need to switch it up.

  The song ends and Kingston clears his voice. “It’s still a tribute to a small town.”

  “It’s a love song,” Juno interjects.

  “What about something with less love in it? There are plenty of songs that are about living in a small town and loving it. This is clearly a breakup song.” Austin spins his pasta around his fork.

  “I like it. I think it speaks to a lot of romances in this family and in town. It’ll resonate with the people of Lake Starlight.” Broo
klyn shrugs. “I agree that it’s time for a change.”

  Grandma Dori puts down her fork and wipes her mouth. “I’m willing to be flexible, but I’m thinking this means a lot more will be changed than just the song. There’s no way nine kids can sing this song.”

  I straighten in my chair. What is she going to say?

  “Kingston and Phoenix will sing this song on the float.”

  “What? I can’t sing,” Kingston lies. We all know he can but pretends he can’t. He even resorts to lip-syncing most times because he thinks he’s fooling us.

  Rome throws his napkin at him. “You can too.”

  “So we have new additions to the float.” Dori skips over Kingston because her word is final. Which means I’ll be practicing with Kingston to get this right. “Holly, Wyatt, Harley and the kids are all welcome to join the float.”

  “What about Liam?” Savannah asks. “He’s practically family anyway.”

  “Until you hold a marriage license in your hand, he’s not on the float.”

  “I still do the classic car thing anyway.” Liam smiles at Sav.

  “Then maybe I ride with you.” She leans toward him, and he takes the opportunity to kiss her temple. Ugh, these two.

  “As much as I’d love to have you next to me, you know where you belong. I’ll be waiting at the end for you.” He kisses her one last time, and she picks up her fork, apparently appeased by his answer.

  “So we’ll have two floats. Kingston and Phoenix will sing on a smaller float in front of the family. The family float will have everyone else. We’ll hand out candy and wave and smile,” Grandma Dori says.

  “I’m not singing,” Kingston says.

  “Too bad, little bro, you should’ve chosen a different song.” Rome grips his shoulder on the way out of the room.

  “I can’t sing.”

  “You’re lying. You can to. You forget how you used to sing in the shower.” I elbow him.

  “Just admit that you’re the only Bailey man who got Mom’s talent.” Denver raises his eyebrows.

  Wyatt looks at Kingston. “I have to admit, I’m excited for this. I never would’ve guessed.”