I grab my phone and open a new contact. “Ready.”
“Okay. Her name is Patricia, and she’s Hottie McTottie’s mom.”
I pause and glance up at her. “Hottie who?”
“Hottie McTottie. That’s Nana’s nickname for him. She’s caught a glimpse of him once, and it looks like he left an impression.” She lifts a shoulder.
I blink at her, not sure if this new info is good or bad. “Uh . . . okay.”
“You know Nana.” After slowly rattling off the number, she drops a kiss to my cheek and gets up. “I hate to run, but I’m meeting up with Justin. You’ve got this, you hear me? It’s better than eating ramen noodles for the next few months. Let me know how it goes, okay?”
Groaning at her remark, I nod. “You just had to bring up the ramen noodles, didn’t you?”
She winks at me, knowing how much I hate them. “Better than becoming homeless.”
“Yeah, yeah. Go have fun with your boyfriend.” I shoo her away. “And thank you.”
“Always.” She blows me a kiss and leaves.
I stare at the spot she just disappeared for a moment before lifting my phone to stare at the screen.
Looks like I might interview for a job with Hottie McTottie.
Let’s hope Nana had her prescription glasses filled correctly.
Or maybe it’s better if she didn’t.
The jury’s still out on that one.
Two
Jace
It's official: I'm a crazy-chick magnet.
If I'm honest, after a long day of disappointing job interviews, I had high hopes for my last one. The candidate came highly recommended by my mom's friend, for fuck's sake. That should count for something.
Now that I’m face to face with Emilia, I feel like everyone's lost their damn minds.
Or maybe I have the worst luck. Maybe I'm cursed. There must be a reason for everything to go downhill in my life lately.
My mom did a preliminary check on all applicants via phone interview. According to her, the five women were the best of the best. At least the ones that were available on short notice.
It’s depressing, and I want to go home.
All I can think about when I look at Emilia is Pippi Longstocking mixed with Mary Poppins. Her red hair is pulled back in two ponytails on the sides, a big bow adorning the top of her head. Freckles decorate the bridge of her nose and cheeks, and she’s wearing the biggest tutu I’ve ever seen in my life.
I’m not even sure how she manages to sit on her chair.
Like I said, crazy-chick magnet. Right here.
Branded for life by some invisible force.
I’m about to cut this short and thank her for meeting me when the door of the coffee shop bursts open and my mom walks in with Tanner. A quick glance at the clock tells me they’re early.
With all candidates, we agreed on her coming in after about fifteen minutes of the interview. If the applicant was still around, it would allow us to gauge Tanner’s reaction to the possible nanny prospect. I don’t want to hire anyone my son doesn’t like. Seems counterproductive to me.
My son. I’m still grappling with that concept. In the few weeks since I’ve known about him, my whole life has turned upside down. But then again, so has his.
And here we are, trying to find someone who can uproot their life and be a good fit for Tanner.
So far, two people were gone by the time my mom and Tanner arrived. Tanner started crying with one and running away the other time.
I’m not sure who’s more frustrated at this point. Him or me.
But I’m quickly learning that kids’ moods change quicker than some people can change their underwear.
Tanner has only been with me for a few days—after a thankfully short paternity-establishment in court—and I still feel like I got on a roller coaster but haven’t gotten off it yet.
My brain constantly feels like it’s rattling in my head, all while my heart doesn’t quite know what to make of this whole situation.
It’s not often that you gain custody of a two-year-old you didn’t even know existed until a few weeks ago.
My mom doesn’t waste any time and goes right for Emilia, holding out her hand. “Hi, Millie, I’m Patricia, Jace’s mom. After our conversation, I wanted to make sure I got to meet you in person.”
Interesting. She didn’t stop by to ensure she’d meet any of the other candidates. Conveniently, she’s avoiding my gaze, making me wonder if there’s something she didn’t tell me.
Emilia, or apparently Millie to my mom, gets out of her chair, beaming at my mom. “It’s so lovely to meet you.”
Her tutu puffs out on all sides, barely avoiding her coffee cup on the table.
I’m about to get up too—feeling awkward being the only one sitting—when a high-pitched shriek rings through the room.
Holy crap. What the heck is that?
When I look down, I realize it’s Tanner. Oh crap, he’s terrified of Emilia too. What the hell do I do now?
But then I look at him . . . really look at him. He’s sporting a huge . . . grin?
Well, huge for him. The only thing I’ve seen of him so far has been a tight-lipped attempt at a smile. If you can even call it that. I’m sure I’ve seen the corners of his lips twitch though.
Right now, there’s no doubt. He’s definitely smiling.
And . . . hopping?
What is happening?
His hands are flying through the air in front of his small body.
Wait a second, is he . . . humming?
Emilia’s responding smile is so wide, I can barely see her eyes.
Then she crouches down in front of Tanner and starts singing, the melody of her words matching his quiet humming. Her hands move in a similar fashion as his, but so much more distinguishable in their execution that I see for the first time what he’s doing.
What he’s been doing all along.
And we had no clue.
My gaze finds my mom’s, who is now covering her mouth with shaky hands, her eyes shiny and wide.
Shit.
He’s been trying to talk to us. With his hands.
Why the fuck didn’t the old lady Bette tell us about that? After all, she was the one who took care of him after his mom, Lila, died. Since Lila and I didn’t do much talking when we met, I don’t know much about her, or what happened the last three-plus years. Obviously.
In her letter, she said that she was admitted to the hospital for a terrible case of pneumonia and that they diagnosed her with bacteremia. When I looked it up, it mentioned that it can lead to septic shock, which is often fatal in as little as twelve hours, even to a healthy individual.
Since Lila’s medical history is protected under law, and Bette confirmed complications with pneumonia, that’s my best guess as to what happened because Lila was gone the next day.
She wrote the letter when she wasn’t sure if she was going to make it. Explaining that I had a son, telling me she only figured out recently who I was when she saw me on TV.
Confessing that she wanted to contact me but couldn’t. Telling me about Tanner. Begging me to take good care of him, and to tell him how much she loved him.
My chest tightens just thinking about her words, about the things she went through and what it ultimately led to. The things she lost.
What Tanner lost.
I swallow the lump in my throat and focus on Emilia instead.
She’s still at eye level with Tanner. “Hey there. You must be Tanner. You did such a good job with that song. Do you like to sing?”
Tanner nods, his small head of brown waves bobbing up and down. Then he shakes both hands in the air, almost like jazz hands, before putting his right index finger on his left wrist as if he’s pointing at a watch.
Emilia’s smile widens, her focus solely on the boy in front of her. “Do you like to watch Wiggle Time?”
Wiggle Time? I faintly remember my mom telling me about Emilia having worked for a kids’ show wi
th that name.
Tanner nods again, right before he launches himself at her, his arms going tightly around her neck.
Emilia closes her eyes as she enfolds him in her arms. Then she looks at me before settling her gaze on my mom. “I didn’t know he signs. You mentioned on the phone that he doesn’t talk, even though it seems like his hearing is okay.”
My mom swallows several times before clearing her throat. “We . . . we had no idea.” Her gaze flicks to me. “Things haven’t exactly been . . . conventional with Tanner.”
“How so?” Emilia’s clearly confused, her gaze ping-ponging back and forth between me and my mom, all the while Tanner clings to her like he’s a koala and she’s his favorite eucalyptus tree. And she doesn’t look concerned at all. In fact, it looks so natural for her. Wow.
Under other circumstances, I’d find her question direct, but I understand her need to know what’s going on.
My mom lifts her chin in my direction, and I take that as my cue.
After letting out a pent-up breath, I point toward the abandoned chairs around the round metal table. “Let’s sit down.”
Once everyone’s settled, I look into Emilia’s green eyes. “I didn’t know about Tanner until roughly two weeks ago. I received a letter from a woman I used to know. She . . . she got sick, and there were complications, and she—”
I can’t finish the sentence, not with Tanner right there. I’m not sure how much he understands, but talking about his mom’s death with him right there feels wrong.
Emilia nods in understanding, her lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m so sorry. And now he’s with you?”
My throat feels dry, and I take a sip of my coffee. “He is. The court was willing to speed things up as much as they could since we had all the necessary paperwork and paternity tests done right away.”
She turns her head and looks at the little bit of Tanner’s profile she can see, which isn’t a lot with the way he’s pressed his face into her neck.
Her smile is weak and she blinks slowly before gently cupping the back of his head. “That’s good. I’m glad he’s got you now. And it helps so much that he signs. A lot of parents teach their babies and toddlers simple signs. It helps tremendously with communication, especially when they don’t talk yet.”
My mom leans forward in her chair. “So it’s normal? Even for his age?”
“You said he’s two and a half?”
“He’s turning three in three months.”
Emilia nods. “I’m clearly no doctor or speech therapist, but I’ve met and worked with a lot of kids. Most children can talk at his age. Some can talk your ear off while others don’t at all. One of the girls at the show had full-on conversations at eighteen months while another boy excelled at signing but didn’t start verbalizing until three. And then he started reading at the same time. Their little minds are something else, and we can’t put them all in the same box.”
“Is there a specific program that you recommend? The faster we can start learning some signs, the better.” My mom picks up her phone, probably getting ready to order the program right now.
“Of course. I love Baby Signing Time and Signing Time by Two Little Hand Productions. They have several other amazing programs for older kids as well. And they use real ASL—real American Sign Language—which makes it even better.”
“Perfect. Thank you.” My mom types away.
“Of course.”
I shift around in my seat to get more comfortable. “Did you learn how to sign at the show you were on?”
“I did sign on Wiggle Time, yes. But I learned how to sign when I was younger. One of my friends from elementary school was hard of hearing and she taught me how to sign. At least, the basics.” Her hand moves up and down Tanner’s back. “Young kids respond so well to it, even as babies, way before they can ever talk.”
“Is it hard to learn?” My voice sounds rough, the words hard to get out of my throat.
Emilia shakes her head. “No, it’s pretty straightforward, and the signs are easy to learn. Since you’re using it with a toddler, you won’t communicate in full sentences. The way you sign is similar to the way they talk.”
“What do you mean?”
Just then, Tanner turns his head and coughs over her shoulder before pulling his head back to look at Emilia. He lifts his hand to his face, palm facing to the side, and holds up his fingers to tap them on his chin.
Emilia mimics his motion, even though she only holds up three fingers, her thumb and pinky held down in her palm. “You want some water?”
Tanner nods, giving her a small smile.
My mom immediately jumps into action, grabbing his water bottle from her backpack, and holding it out to Tanner. “There you go, sweetie.”
“Did you see that?” Emilia smiles at Tanner before looking at me. “He signs water like if he’d say ‘water’ at this age, or maybe ‘want water.’ The most important thing is that you continue to talk normally with him, in full sentences and sign along the few words you know.”
I nod. “That makes sense.”
“I also like to repeat back what they sign in a question like I just did. Instead of just giving him the water, I asked him if he wanted some water and signed water as well. The more words they hear, the better.”
We all watch as Tanner finishes up most of his water, sighing loudly when he’s done.
My chest squeezes, thinking about the times he’s tried to tell us something and we didn’t understand him. Where both Mom and I tried to guess what Tanner wanted, only able to go by his nods and headshakes—if at all—not knowing he’s been trying to communicate with us via sign language this whole time.
Just like that, my opinion of Emilia changes, this whole situation bathing her in a new light that has highly swayed my first impression of her.
She’s the youngest of all applicants at twenty-four, and I went into this looking for someone with more experience. Maybe someone with a less quirky attire. From the looks of it, we might have to go with Tanner’s reaction and hope for the best.
Mom will be there to help if I need her, but she still works, so I will have to learn how to trust someone else with my son. The clenching in my stomach has loosened slightly at the knowledge that Tanner won’t be miserable while I’m training. At least not because of his nanny.
Other than that, who could blame him? His whole world changed in a way that’s not only irreversible but also irreplaceable. For a short time, at least by law, he was an orphan, right before he was thrust into someone’s arms he’d never seen before in his life.
Me.
His dad.
Something we both have to get used to, and I know it will take a while.
Lila mentioned that he went to daycare, so I hope that will make it easier for him to get used to us and my rigid routine.
Without a doubt, I need all the help I can get because I haven’t been around kids much. None of my friends have kids yet.
Hunter has a bunch of nieces and nephews that I’ve seen at family gatherings before, but that doesn’t make you ready for twenty-four/seven care of a little boy. I think I’m still in shock, if I’m being honest.
I study Emilia. The way her lips quirk up at the corners when she murmurs soft words to Tanner, and the way her eyes shine when she giggles with him.
I clear my throat to get her attention. When her eyes are on me, I do the only plausible thing. “The job is yours. When can you start?”
I will take good care of him, just like I vowed after reading Lila’s letter. She never had the chance to finish it, but I’ll be damned if I didn’t at least try my best to honor her last wish.
Dear Jace,
I’ve dreamed of contacting you so many times, and now that I’m sick, I finally learn your name, from the hospital TV broadcasting one of your races of all things. There are so many things I want to say. So many things I want to ask, but this is about Tanner, your son. I’m sorry to spring something this enormous on you in a letter,
but I want to be prepared, just in case.
Our one-night stand three years ago resulted in pregnancy, but since I didn’t know your full name, I couldn’t contact you. I was scared to do it all by myself, but the moment I saw Tanner’s sweet face, I knew I could and would. He’s turned my life upside down but in the best possible way. He’s my whole world, and the only family I’ve got. I love him so much, and if things get worse, I hope you tell him that daily.
I’m begging you right now with my whole being to take him in and to take good care of him if I don’t make it. He’s my best buddy and has the biggest heart. I had hoped we could co-parent him, and the thought of not being able to watch my gorgeous baby grow up breaks my heart. I know that you’ll love him too and if I’m not there, help him grow into the amazing man I know he can be.
Even though he doesn’t talk yet, his communication is wonderful as you’ll quickly learn. He’s the smartest and happiest boy and very well-loved by his daycare friends.
I’m getting tired, so I’ll try and write more later. The doctor is hoping I’ll be out of the hospital next week.
Three
Emilia
Tanner might just be the cutest kid on earth. I owe Nicole and her grandma big-time because this new nanny job might be the easiest job I’ve ever had. One I also enjoy. Not to mention, I make more than I did at my previous online show gig. Talk about win-win.
Tanner and I are cuddled up on the couch reading books when the alarm system beeps, indicating that one of the doors was opened. Less than two seconds later, the front door shuts and footsteps echo across the wooden floor, coming closer to the living room.
Footsteps I know belong to Jace.
It’s been a week since I started working for him, but we haven’t interacted much.
I’m practically sleep-walking into his house at an insane hour in the morning, just for him to grab his duffel bag and slip out of the house for his morning training session. In the evening, we do the same the other way around. He comes home exhausted from his afternoon training, and most nights, I hand off a sleepy Tanner to him who’s ready for bed.
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