Game Changer: A Single Dad/Nanny Romance (Change of Hearts Book 1)

by Sierra Hill

  Mom pats my hand on the steering column. “That’s good, dear. You needed someone like your Becca to fill the void.”

  My eyes snap to hers in the passenger seat, confused by her comment. Does she think I’m going to marry my nanny? That Brooklyn will replace Becca as his mother?

  “What the hell do you mean by that?” My words are acerbic, causing her to clutch her chest.

  “Don’t use that tone of voice with me, Garrett. All I mean is that without Becca, and with Penelope not involved with his life…”

  “Her choice, need I remind you.”

  She chuffs at this remark and continues. “Anyway, I’m impressed with Brooklyn. We’ve had several good conversations and I think you made a brilliant choice. I can’t wait to meet her while I’m here for the next two weeks.”

  I’d just taken a sip of coffee and choked, spewing the liquid all over my shirt.

  “Two weeks?”

  She tips her head and stares at me like I’m an alien from Mars.

  “Well, technically not a full two weeks. I’ve made arrangements to take Caleb to Disneyland this week.”

  “Pardon? Did you just say you plan to take my son to Disneyland without consulting me first?”

  She gives me a disgusted scowl. “Of course not. That’s what I’m doing right now, silly. I’m letting you know I’m making plans.”

  I’m so thrown by this cavalier approach my mother seems to have about making plans for my son on a whim without considering all the things that go into it. She has no idea how difficult it will be to manage Caleb on her own.

  “No, that’s not going to work. You can’t possibly do it by yourself.”

  My mother shushes me. “Oh, don’t be silly. I know that. That’s why I’m flying Addison and Wyatt out to join me. And Disney has a great program for disabled children. Caleb will have a wonderful time. Plus, I know you need a break, so I’m giving you one.”

  I’m about to go postal on my very own mother. Obviously, this little trip of hers was clearly planned ahead of time if she is flying Addison and Wyatt out and she took the time to research Disney programs for special needs kids. She’s just now telling me about it because she knew I’d flip.

  And she’s right. I did. She no longer dictates my life or calls the shots about how I raise my son. I can just put my foot down and tell her no. She no longer has a say in those things that affect either one of us. My mother is a hard woman to get along with even on the best of days, but if I lose my patience with her now, she’ll shut down and turn it around on me, making me look like the asshole.

  So, I behave. I bide my time and remain patient, not allowing her to get under my skin.

  As we drive past the security gate and into the drive, I notice a car parked on the side of the street, the shadow of a familiar profile sitting in the front seat.

  My bullshit meter begins ticking loudly, as I start patching together all the things my mother has just mentioned, putting two-and-two together. Shifting the car into park, I glance in the rearview mirror, first seeing my sleeping boy conked out in the backseat, and then tracking out the back window at the woman I haven’t set eyes on in over two years.

  I breathe through my nose, my hands balling into fists as I watch her step out of her car and walk up to my drive toward us.

  “Mother, what the fuck is going on right now?”

  “Son, please don’t use that language with me. You know how crude I think it is.”

  I stare incredulously back at her nonplussed expression, innocently blinking back at me.

  My words are clipped. “Start. Talking.”

  “I received a call from Penelope a few weeks back and we got to talking. She was extremely remorseful for her poor judgment in giving up Caleb and knew you’d say no to visitations. I am simply brokering the discussion between you two today, in hopes of helping you come to some terms. For Caleb’s sake. He needs a mother.”

  I now understand the meaning behind losing my shit. Because it’s about to go down. My mother has finally crossed the line and I’m not opposed to throwing her out right along with Penelope.

  “No. Nope. Absolutely not. That woman” - I jab my thumb toward the window – “gave up her goddamn rights two years ago in a court of law. She signed away her rights and a judge saw fit to allow it. And she was well compensated to boot, if you may recall. She didn’t want to be a mother then, and she certainly hasn’t earned the right to be called his mother now, dead parent or not. A zebra does not change its stripes.”

  My mother has the audacity to touch my exposed forearm and I flinch it away. “Honey, people do change. All I’m asking is for you to give her a chance to explain. That’s all.”

  There have been times in my life where my temper has gotten the best of me and I’m not proud of that fact. The last time was when Becca and I argued over the phone prior to her accident. And the result was catastrophic, so I try to keep my temper from exploding at all costs.

  But in this moment, as my life is being hijacked by the very woman who gave birth to me, I’m not acting like a rational man. My mother has jumped into a situation she knows nothing about. I’m sure somewhere deep in her heart she means well, but it is none of her fucking business.

  I’ve been doing a pretty fucking fine job of raising my motherless son. I do not need her to run interference or insinuate that Caleb is not well-adjusted without a mother in his life.

  I feel the walls of the car collapsing around me and I feel trapped, like a caged lion. Penelope now stands just a few feet outside my parked car and my mother sits next to me, stewing as if I’ve insulted her somehow.

  And then, just when I think it can’t get any worse, Caleb starts wailing, having been woken from his nap. As I turn my head to the backseat, out of my peripheral vision I see Brooklyn’s car slowly drive into her parking space at the side of the garage.

  This day just keeps getting better and better.

  When I woke up this morning, my greatest worry was how I was going to handle the potential morning-after awkwardness with Brooklyn.

  Now I have three women, and one cranky son, to deal with.

  I take care of the easiest one first.

  “Mother, please take Caleb, go in the house, and put him back down for his nap. You can at least do that for me since you’ve created this situation.”

  “But…”

  “No buts. Just do it. Otherwise, I’m turning this car right around and taking you back to the airport this minute. And possibly running over Penelope in the process.”

  She turns ghost white and tight-lipped but says nothing more. She gets out of the front and opens the back door, removes Caleb out of his car seat and slams the door haughtily, leaving me in a silent car.

  Sucking in the deepest, most calming breath I can manage, I open my driver’s side door and walk directly over to Penelope, who plasters on a fake, contrite Botox smile. I don’t reciprocate but instead, hold up my index finger for her to remain quiet.

  “Stay here and don’t say a fucking word. I will deal with you in a second.”

  And then I pivot on my heels, rounding the front of the car and stride toward Brooklyn, whose initial welcoming smile flips upside down into a look of confusion. The first thing I notice, however, is that there’s something different about the way she looks – maybe it’s her hair or make-up or clothes - but I don’t have time to dissect what’s changed.

  Because right now, everything has changed. It feels like reality has slammed its fist in my face. First with my mother’s arrival, her remarks about what she thinks I need and then the appearance of the one woman I can’t stand who’s made my life intolerable.

  And now as I stand in front of Brooklyn, I realize she’s the only one who calms me down and gives me peace. Provides a solace in my life when everything else storms like a cyclone around me.

  I cup her cheeks in my roughened hands, bringing her gaze to rest on mine.

  “You’re going to have to trust me when I say that a shitstorm
is brewing, and it started with my mother. I won’t blame you if you choose to leave, but I would really love for you to stay. I need your support. I need you.”

  She blinks, pursing her lips and bending to the side to peer around me at Penelope, before straightening again and giving me a short nod of support. Exhaling all the stale air that was trapped in my lungs, I drop my arms and link my fingers with hers.

  “Is that her? Is that Penelope?” she whispers, her eyes wide with guarded curiosity.

  I tamp down the lump in my throat. “Yes. That’s Caleb’s biological mom.”

  Brooklyn straightens her shoulders as if preparing to go into battle for me. My sweet fiery warrior.

  “Okay. I’ve got this.”

  She’s about to turn and walk into the house when I pull her back with a quick tug and she topples into my chest.

  Staring up at me expectantly, her lips part as I lean in and cover her mouth with mine. It’s a kiss of gratitude.

  Of apology.

  A kiss to claim.

  A clear statement to announce to Penelope and the world, that Brooklyn is mine. There is no one else. She’s in my corner and I am in hers.

  When I reluctantly pull away, my vigor is renewed and my conviction strong.

  I don’t know what’s changed between last night and this moment, but it’s as if that wall around my heart has crumbled and disintegrated, and I now realize I want this woman on my team going forward from this moment on.

  She’s my chance at a winning future. And I could definitely use a win after all the shit I’ve been through. Just one final shot to win the game.

  20

  Brooklyn

  Holy goodness, I don’t know what I just walked into or what’s about to go down or what happened leading up to the odd standoff I drove into, but hearing Garrett say he needs me by his side and that claiming kiss that left me breathless and with no alternative but to say yes is all I need.

  The flash of jealous rage and hatred in Penelope’s eyes when Garrett and I walked past her into the house was a little intimidating, I must admit. As a soccer player and former college athlete, I know a competitive woman when I see one. I’ve dealt with a lot of catty behavior out on the field and in the locker rooms and have managed to keep my head above the fray and not get into it with women who bring out their inner bitch.

  But if looks could kill…damn, Penelope’s eyes shot deadly daggers at me. Enough so that I will be watching my back and checking the doors every night to avoid getting stabbed.

  “Does anyone want any coffee or water?” I politely offer as everyone files into the living room.

  Corinne has already come in and given me a hug, stating how happy she is to finally meet me after the phone calls and FaceTime sessions I arranged between her and Caleb. Although I think she’s a very devoted grandmother and a lovely person, it’s clear there is definitely some friction happening between Garrett and his mother. The tension lines across Garrett’s forehead are a clear indicator that he is not too happy with his mother at the moment.

  Penelope chirps up. “I’d like sparkling water with a lime if you can manage.”

  It’s an insulting dig of a request, but I oblige and respond with grace. “I think we might have some Perrier. Let me go check.”

  Turning to Corinne, I ask her if she’d like something, as well.

  “Oh, thank you, my dear. Maybe some tea. My stomach is a bit off at the moment.”

  She glares at Garrett, who sits composed, but strung tighter than a bow, his lips in a flat line and a tick in his jaw demonstrating his brewing indignation, clearly ignoring his mother’s remark.

  Without looking at me, he waves me off when I ask him if he needs anything. As I walk back into the kitchen to locate the Perrier and brew the tea, I hear the stilted conversation between the three of them, Garrett’s responses all clipped and abbreviated.

  “How has Caleb been doing with his therapy?” Corinne asks, a slight hesitancy laced within her question.

  “He’s doing great. Thanks.”

  And then Penelope jumps in and I swear I think Garrett literally jumps down her throat.

  “My baby’s birthday is coming up soon.”

  His voice booms and quakes, shaking the room from its ferocity, extracting a squawk from his own mother.

  “He is not your fucking baby, Penelope. He’s my son and you gave up your rights to be his mother two years ago, in case you forgot. I’ll gladly pull out the court documents you signed if you need a refresher on how easily you walked away from your baby.”

  I nearly drop the cup and saucer in my hand at this revelation. The last two days have been quite eye-opening as it relates to Garrett’s life and Caleb’s parental lineage. Up until last week, I’d only known Becca as Caleb’s mother, and Garrett’s wife, and knew she passed away in a car accident. But I had no idea of the backstory leading up to Caleb’s birth or his first few years of life.

  Holy baby Jesus in a manager. What a tragic story.

  As I re-enter the living room, drinks in hand, both Corinne and Penelope are now in tears, small sniffles coming from Garrett’s mother and Penelope’s full-blown dramatical sobs filling the silence left between the three of them. What a circus.

  I’m oddly at an impasse as to what to do with myself. Although Garrett specifically asked for my presence, to stay with him through this, I’m the obvious intruder in this very personal, very private family matter. I am not family. I’m not even at the level of girlfriend status.

  I’m Caleb’s nanny and care provider. Nothing more. And it’s hella awkward.

  “Garrett,” I whisper, taking a place in the seat next to him, imploring him with my eyes in hopes he’ll recognize exactly what I see. Realize that I’m out of place in this family dynamic. “I think I should…”

  “Please stay, Brooklyn.” With a pleading look from his anguished brown eyes, I comply with his request, folding my hands together in my lap and nervously pick at my nails, keeping my focus away from anyone else’s censure.

  Garrett’s brittle voice breaks through the silence.

  “Mother, I’ll let you start out this conversation, seeing as you hatched this diabolical plan behind my back to take my son on a trip without my consent, and then encouraged this unwanted reunion with this woman.”

  He points an accusatory finger at Penelope, who dabs at her tears in the corner of her eye with a tissue, looking up innocently with big blue eyes, like a Tweety Bird in a cage.

  Either she’s truly brokenhearted over losing her child and desperately wanting him back or she’s giving us an Oscar-worthy performance, on par with Meryl Streep.

  Corinne takes a sip of her tea before setting it down on her lap, a small frown pursed at her lips.

  “Garrett, you know I worry about you and Caleb. Aside from Wyatt, you are my only family on this earth and I only want what’s best for you all. You’ve all lost so much, and it pains me to know you’re suffering.”

  “Puh-lease,” he barks with grating hostility. “That’s bullshit. This is not about me or your grandsons. This is about you and what you want and what you think we should want. We are fine, Mother. I have things under control and I don’t need you meddling in my business or my personal life.”

  Corinne gasps, her hand flying over her heart as if it truly caused her physical pain.

  “Garrett Allen Parker, I did not raise my sons to talk back to me like that. How dare you suggest I don’t care about or love you or my family. You’re all that matters to me. And children need their mothers. Wyatt has Addison and Caleb had Becca, but now he doesn’t. I only want a woman in his life who will have his best interests at heart when I pass on and will be there for him when he needs a mother’s touch.”

  I realize Corinne doesn’t say this to intentionally insult me or diminish my role. She just doesn’t understand the bond I’ve developed with Caleb over the last month and hasn’t seen how I love and cherish her grandson.

  The look in Garrett’s eyes is clo
se to murder. I’ve never seen him that close to losing his temper, except that night in the kitchen together.

  “A mother does not abandon her child. She doesn’t give him up and sever all ties in exchange for money, only to come back around when it’s convenient for her. In fact, I should ask. Penelope, did you run out of the money I gave you? Is that why you’re suddenly so interested in reclaiming your title as a mother? Because if so, that well dried up two years ago. There is no more. You don’t deserve to know Caleb. You don’t get to decide after all this time that you suddenly want to be part of his life.”

  He exhales loudly, the pain in his expression evident.

  “Caleb’s mother died. She’s gone. No one will ever replace Becca in his life. She was the best woman and mother in the world, and he will never have someone like her again.”

  The words, although not directed at me or said out of cruelty, rip me to the core. I realize he’s said them in anger, and they have nothing to do with me personally, but they hurt nonetheless. They’ve diminished my role with one fell swoop and cut me down to size.

  Garrett doesn’t see me as a qualifying substitute for motherly material. And he views me in exactly the role he hired me to be.

  Just the nanny.

  And nothing more.

  21

  Garrett

  It’s late.

  My head pounds from the tension headache that developed the minute I picked up my mother earlier this morning and grew as the conversation between Penelope, my mother and me exploded like a geyser from deep below and gushed over until there was nothing left. I am drained.

  And somewhere in the midst of that circus of a conversation, I said something that rubbed Brooklyn wrong, but I don’t know what it was. I only felt the shift in her mood throughout the remainder of the day, as she carefully removed herself from the discussion and kept her distance, leaving me to attend to my guests alone and locked herself away in her bedroom.