“It’s not as simple as that, bud,” I said.
“I saw it in a movie,” Ben shifted around so he was sitting on his knees and facing me. Something in his eyes told me this whole conversation was premeditated, and I wondered how much Griff had played a role.
“You saw it in a movie?” I asked slowly.
“Yep. You just say, ‘I love you baby.’ Then you give her a ring and she’s your mommy now.”
I grinned. “She’d be my fiancée. Not my mommy. And you have to date people before you ask them to marry you. You find out if you like each other enough to stay together forever.”
“But you and mommy didn’t stay together forever. Did you forget to do dates?”
I grimaced. “That’s complicated too, bud. Also, another reason why it’d make a lot more sense for me to just keep paying Miss Nola. I give her the money, and she stays in our lives. That is simple, at least.”
“Can you pay her to be my mommy?”
I ruffled his hair. “Why don’t we talk about something else.”
“Okay. Griff said I should ask you how grownups make babies. He said you’d know. Is that why you and Miss Nola were in the room with the door closed so long last night?”
“Uh, grownups don’t make babies, Ben. They… find them.”
“Find them? Where? Is there a baby store?”
“Well, no. It’s like a field. You, uh… pull them out of the ground. Then you’ve got a baby.”
Ben looked horrified. “Really? You pulled me out of the ground?”
I nodded. This was why kids needed moms, I decided. I was not qualified to have this discussion.
A few minutes later, I saw Ben drawing a horrifying depiction of a man yanking a baby out of the ground by his hair and wondered what I’d created.17NolaThings had a way of settling to normal, no matter how crazy they might seem at first. My gig as Jack Kerrigan the famous MLB pitcher’s nanny was no exception.
I’d initially existed in this place of all-consuming disbelief. Mornings were spent in a kind of daze either watching Griff and Ben or shuttling the boys to and from school. I followed them around and watched my little brother gradually turn into less of a demon spawn in the afternoons. And the evenings were the part where he came home. Inevitably, I’d say something awkward, embarrassing, or both. Then I’d grab Griff and run, promising myself I’d be normal next time.
And until tonight, I’d capped all that off by dragging Griff to the restaurant with me and finishing out my night with a shift of waiting tables. Until I got my first deposit from Jack, I hadn’t been willing to risk quitting. But last night I’d let Troy know I needed to quit, and he’d been nice enough to let me go without taking me up on my offer to give him a two-week notice.
The boys were watching a movie on the couch while I waited for Jack to come back. It was dark enough that the view from his apartment was all yellow square windows, splashes of headlights far down below, and the dark silhouettes of skyscrapers in every direction.
The most unsettling thing was how normal this had all started to feel. This life, this routine, these people. It all felt like a fragile dream I didn’t dare try to tighten my grip on because it might all shatter the moment I tried to hold on. Even though I kept checking the listing for the vacant storefront in Florida every night, I could practically feel it drifting away as my roots grew here.
Roots. That’s what was happening, wasn’t it?
Day by day, I was letting my roots spread out, so it’d be impossible to leave when the time came. Or was it this place that was tangling its roots around me?
Jack came home and found me in the kitchen. Music from the boys’ movie drifted towards us from the living room. Usually, Jack made a clear, active effort to avoid even looking in my eyes if he could. Tonight, something was different.
He set his equipment bag down on the counter and slouched down on his elbows, sighing.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
He raised his eyes to meet mine, sending a familiar rush of warmth through my body. Sometimes, when his eyes were on me, I imagined he could sense the dreams I’d had about him. I terrified myself with the idea that he knew. One look and he would know all the dirty, naughty things that spiraled out of control in my thoughts when I closed my eyes to sleep. I wondered if he knew that in my dreams, he and I had done things that sweet, innocent little me would never dare to do in the waking world.
Oh, God. What if he had seen that part of the dream where I’d asked him to suck my toes? I silently promised myself that I was not that girl who was into toe sucking. Not when I was awake, at least.