One Week Nanny

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One Week Nanny Page 4

by Shay Violet


  But that didn’t stop me from being at his place almost every day during Spring Break, helping him baby-proof, giving him a reprieve long enough to shower or nap, teaching him little tips and tricks he would’ve learned already if he’d been the one to bring her home from the hospital. Jumping in at six months seemed like doing the baby thing on hard-mode. Newborns were pretty easy, and three to four months, they did a lot more sleeping, but at Addie’s age, there was so much to consider. Solid foods, teething, crawling, babbling, more advanced toys to engage their growing mind -- I couldn’t blame him for being overwhelmed, but he was a quick study. He soaked up everything I told him and was so grateful for my advice that it almost made me uncomfortable.

  Almost.

  It was nice to be appreciated, though. When I went through all this with Keona, Marcus wasn’t around. He was in the middle of a season that went all the way to the finals. He was home every other week, but even when he was home, he was with the team most days, practicing and working out… Or with his whores, as I later found out. He always took it for granted that I knew what I was doing, that I wasn’t struggling and didn’t need his help.

  That first year was really hard for me. I didn’t feel like I could admit that I didn’t know what I was doing, I didn’t feel like I could talk about the lingering depression, or my feelings that I was never going to be the mother our baby deserved. Eventually, I managed to work through all of that on my own, but I still remembered how hard it was.

  How much better would it have been if Marcus appreciated me the way Matt seemed to? If he wanted to be as involved in those early days as he tried to be now?

  It still wouldn’t have saved our marriage, considering he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. Probably for the best that I learned how to manage Keona on my own early on and didn’t feel like I needed him.

  “Well, Ryan will be back tomorrow,” I told Matt at the end of the week. His place was practically transformed from what it was before. Even though there weren’t a ton of walls or doors in this place, we set up a nursery area for Addie so she had a place that was her own. We fitted cabinet doors with child-proof locks, and removed furniture with sharp corners that could leave big gashes in her head. And after enough off-hand comments about it, he’d even replaced his couch for something that was less designer, less sleek, but far more comfortable. Somewhere you might actually want to cuddle.

  Not that I was thinking about cuddling with him.

  I wasn’t.

  Not often, anyway.

  He just wasn’t what I expected based on Ryan’s stories. Maybe his brother exaggerated how much of a pain in the ass he was, or maybe having the kid really was changing him. It was hard to know, but Matt was a sweet guy. He had a good heart once he decided to show it, and I could see it melt every time he picked up Addie and she smiled at him. He may not have ever wanted to be a dad, but I was pretty sure he’d be a great one.

  “Yeah, guess I won’t need to call you for help anymore,” he said, frowning. “Are you sure I can’t compensate you for your time? You’ve done so much…”

  I rolled my eyes at him. “Trust me, I have plenty of money, I don’t need yours. I’m just glad to make sure this one’s in good hands,” I said, reaching over to Addie to boop her nose. She laughed, her big smile lighting up the room.

  “I bet she’s going to miss you,” Matt said, his tone suggesting she wouldn’t be the only one.

  Go, the voice in my head warned. Get out now before one of you says something stupid.

  It was good advice.

  “She’ll be okay,” I assured him, deciding not to say I’d miss her too. The signals between us were already getting mixed after a week of playing house with the baby.

  “Well… Thanks again,” he said, sounding defeated as I went toward the door.

  “You’ve got this,” I assured him, waving before I left.

  Keona got back from her dad’s that night and we had a Mommy-daughter slumber party in the living room, complete with pillow fort and ice cream sundae bar.

  I could start making her eat her veggies again tomorrow. I didn’t want Marcus to have a complete monopoly on the role of ‘fun parent’.

  A few days passed, the kids all back in school, my brief Spring Break adventure mostly forgotten. I thought things were going back to normal when I got a text from Matt I wasn’t expecting.

  Should I be worried about this? The text asked, a picture of Addie’s leg coming next, red and flaky, covered in little bumps. It looked itchy, possibly an allergic reaction to something. I couldn’t tell from the picture.

  Um… Probably not? Did she go crawling through poison ivy? I asked, wondering why he wasn’t texting his brother or father with his question.

  No. She’s doing the endless crying thing too, and cuddling her isn’t helping. I think she misses you.

  I rolled my eyes, but I was smiling too. This bastard was just trying to come up with an excuse to see me, wasn’t he?

  Or was I reading too much into it? Seeing things I wanted to instead of what was really there.

  You think so, huh? I asked, keeping my response light, non-committal.

  I do. Do you think you could come over?

  There it was. My heart fluttered against my rib cage, warring with my brain. I knew I should say no. I knew I should put my foot down and tell him to call the pediatrician if he was so worried.

  But the truth was, I kind of missed them too. Both of them.

  You know I come with a +1, I sent, figuring that would make him lose interest. I hadn’t really attempted to date since my divorce, but I’d heard from other parents that mentioning the kid was typically a surefire way to get someone to lose interest.

  Bring her, he answered, not missing a beat.

  Damn him.

  “Hey pumpkin? Have you finished your homework?” I called to Keona. She was curled up in her favorite chair reading, but I didn’t know if it was a school assignment reading or just for fun reading.

  “Yeah, a while ago,” she answered, not looking up.

  “You know how I told you about that friend I helped with his baby while you were visiting your dad?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Well, he’s asking if I could come help him now. Do you wanna come with me?” I wasn’t really giving her the option, she was going to come with me or we weren’t going to go, but it seemed better to ask than just tell her we were leaving.

  She shrugged. “Okay. Can I bring my book?”

  “Of course. Don’t want you to get bored.”

  “You know Thalia was talking about babies a lot,” she said as we headed down the driveway to the car.

  “Was she?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even. Thalia was Marcus’s newest fling. I didn’t know how I felt about him introducing his parade of women to our impressionable baby girl, but I didn’t get much say about what he did with her during his time with her. I didn’t want a confrontation with him anyway. If I could avoid ever speaking to Marcus again, I would.

  “Yeah,” Keona said, strapping her seatbelt. “I think she wants one.”

  “Huh,” was my answer.

  We headed downtown, through early evening traffic, the roads more and more congested the closer to downtown we got. When I pulled up to Matt’s building, Keona’s eyes got big.

  “Your friend lives here?” she asked.

  “All the way at the top,” I told her, and she tried to crane her head to see that high, but she couldn’t from inside the car.

  “That’s cool,” she said, still looking up, the last glints of sunset off the glass tower making her squint.

  “What’s his name again?”

  “Matt,” I told her. “But maybe you should call him Mr. Williams unless he says otherwise.”

  “Okay,” she said with a shrug. She was always a pretty agreeable kid. Never any real trouble. I got lucky with her. I knew some people really struggled with their kids, disciplinary and behavioral problems, underachieving at school, bad attitudes�
�� I never had any of that with Keona. She was an angel. Of course she was my baby and I’d love her no matter what struggles she presented me with, but I sure did feel pretty lucky that she’d always been an easy kid.

  I didn’t know how Matt would react to her, though. Keona was too smart for her own good, and could be a bit of a know-it-all sometimes. I thought it was wonderful that she cared so much about learning that she wanted to share her fun facts with the world, but not every adult saw it that way. Too many of them saw her as disrespectful for correcting them. I’d been told by more than one stranger that I needed to spank some respect into them.

  My typical response was something like ‘Why? It didn’t seem to work on you.’

  Anyone who had a problem with my baby had a problem with me. Period.

  So I was more than a little nervous taking the long elevator ride up to Matt’s place. Then again, if he and Keona didn’t get along, that would be a pretty clean out for me and these blossoming feelings I didn’t want to exist.

  We could hear Addie crying before we even got to his door and Keona made a face.

  “She doesn’t sound very happy,” she said.

  I shook my head. “I think that’s why he called me over. He’s new to this parenting thing and doesn’t know what to do.”

  Keona’s eyes went wide. “Why does he have a baby if he doesn’t know what to do?”

  I shrugged. “It’s complicated, sweetheart. Sometimes babies are a surprise and you don’t have time to read all the books about them to know what to do.”

  She pursed her lips. I could tell that answer didn’t sit well with her. Keona couldn’t imagine someone not having time to read books. Especially about something as important as a baby.

  I wasn’t ready to explain to her the ins and outs of how surprise kids happened, so for now, I just hoped she wouldn’t judge Matthew too harshly and say something to embarrass me.

  She rang the doorbell, and it took him a few minutes to answer, the sound of Addie’s crying getting closer and closer on the other side of the door until he appeared with her cradled against his shoulder.

  It was like that first night all over again. He looked frazzled, helpless, in desperate need of some assistance.

  “Thank goodness you’re here,” he said, ushering us inside.

  “This is my daughter, Keona,” I said, introducing them as I took Addie from him. She hardly noticed, just crying and crying.

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Williams,” Keona said, polite as could be.

  “Oh… You can call me Matt. Mr. Williams is my dad.”

  Keona looked like she’d just been handed a cotton candy the size of her head. She never got to call grown-ups by their first name.

  “And it’s nice to meet you too,” he said, though his voice was more tired than anything.

  “I don’t know why she’s crying so much,” he said to me, desperation creeping into his voice. “Do you think it’s because of the rash?”

  “I don’t know… Let’s take a look at that. You don’t know what could have caused it?”

  He shook his head. “She hasn’t been anywhere… I haven’t introduced any new foods in a few days, I’ve been giving her baths every day--”

  “Wait, every day?” I asked, turning the baby around.

  “...Yeah, is that wrong?”

  “Babies only need baths two or three times a week,” Keona chimed in. “Their skin is delicate.”

  Matt raised his eyebrows.

  “Keona apparently learned a lot about babies during Spring Break,” I explained, trying not to sound as bitter as the thought made me feel.

  “Yeah, but I don’t think Dad wants one,” she added, matter-of-factly.

  Probably doesn’t want to pay for another divorce when she also realizes he’s trash, I thought, but didn’t say. For all the mess and drama of our relationship and divorce, I tried to never say a bad word about Keona’s father in front of her. He wasn’t a good partner, but he was a good dad. I didn’t want her to ever feel like she had to pick sides. She’s been raised knowing that her mom and dad might not love each other anymore, but we both love her.

  “I think a baby sister or brother would be fun, though,” she added, looking my way. I felt the embarrassment rising up in me, and refused to make eye contact with Matt.

  “So what, I made her too clean?” he asked, incredulous.

  “Probably dried out her skin,” I said. “Keona, get Mommy’s lotion out of her bag, the face one.”

  “Yes ma’am,” she said, digging around. I had at least three lotions in my bag at all times. Moisturizing was the only defense against ashiness and I wasn’t going to let me or my baby be caught dead with gray knees or elbows. Not a damn chance.

  The other lotions were all scented, but my face cream was made for sensitive skin and I figured it should be safe for Addie, but I’d make sure Matt knew to get something actually made for the purpose before I left.

  “Did you give her a bath today?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “I was going to, and then I saw that, and was worried about spreading it or something…”

  “Okay, we’re going to slather her up good, and you’ll need to do it every day, and every time you give her a bath, okay? Preferably while she’s still a little wet.”

  “It locks in the moisture,” Keona added helpfully.

  Matt looked equal parts impressed and amused. “Wow, you really do know a lot about babies.”

  She laughed. “That’s just about lotion, not babies, silly.”

  I braced for the backlash -- not many adults appreciated a seven-year-old calling them silly for not knowing something.

  Matt smirked. “Oh, so you’re just really smart about all kinds of stuff then, huh?”

  I let out the breath I was holding.

  Keona beamed. “I got to skip first grade!”

  “Really?” he asked, more impressed than amused this time.

  After we greased Addie up good -- and used about half of my five-hundred dollar an ounce face cream on her -- she still wasn’t placated. She had been crying throughout the whole conversation, inconsolable despite everything we were doing. I checked her over for any other hotspots, any injuries that might be upsetting her. I checked her diaper, but there was nothing there either.

  “When’s the last time you fed her?”

  “A couple hours ago,” he answered. “But she was like this then, too. Didn’t want any of the pureed carrots or her bottle, really.”

  “Let’s try again,” I said, bouncing her on my knee.

  “Do you want to help me make the formula?” Matt asked Keona, and her whole face lit up.

  “Yeah!”

  Damn it. Now she was starting to be smitten with him too. It was cute how he listened to her, how he soaked in every little factoid about babies she had to offer. It wasn’t even just human babies she told him about.

  “Did you know that elephants are pregnant for almost two years?” she asked.

  “I didn’t,” he answered. “That sounds… unpleasant.”

  “You don’t know the half of it,” I chimed in.

  Once he brought the bottle of formula back, I finally realized Addie’s problem.

  “Oh, you poor thing,” I muttered.

  “What? What is it?” Matt asked, instantly worried. How could he think he wasn’t going to be a good dad when he was that concerned for his daughter?

  “She’s cutting a tooth. See that little bump there?” I asked, waving him over.

  “Can I see?” Keona asked, pushing her way into the circle too.

  “So what does that mean?” Matt asked. “I mean, what can I do? I think our mom gave us rum or something, but that’s not a thing people still do, is it?”

  “She gave a baby alcohol?” Keona asked, shocked.

  “Lots of people used to do that,” I told her.

  “Did you do it to me?” she pressed, still wide-eyed.

  “No honey. We gave you cold fruit and wet washcloths to suc
k on.”

  “Oh, okay.” She seemed to calm down. I didn’t know what she’d have said if I’d told her we rubbed alcohol on her gums to help her sleep, but thankfully I didn’t have to find out. That was a tradition that had died out by the time I had Keona. Only the real old-school people still used that remedy.

  “So a wet washcloth?” Matt asked.

  “Put it in the fridge for a little while. Stick a spoon in there too. The cold helps calm the swollen tissue down. Here, pumpkin, why don’t you hold her for a minute while I go wash my hands. I wanna show Mr.-- I wanna show Matt how to massage her gums.”

  “Okay!” Keona said, happily taking the baby from me.

  “Do you know how to--” I stopped myself mid-question because she was already properly supporting the baby’s head and cradling her gently.

  “You’re way better at this baby stuff than I am,” Matt said to her.

  She shrugged. “I’m good at a lot of stuff. Don’t feel bad.”

  I barely held in my laugh as I went to the kitchen to wash my hands. I might need to dial back on all the ‘you can do anything’ talks and pivot to some humility lessons before her head got too big.

  “Well maybe you can teach me,” Matt said. I couldn’t hear their conversation over the running water once I started it, but by the time I got back to the living room, Matt was nodding along thoughtfully.

  “Yeah, that makes a lot of sense,” he said.

  Oh boy. I wasn’t sure I even wanted to know.

  “Okay, so we do this very gently, just a little massage to relieve the ache. Oh, I know baby girl, I know. It’s awful,” I said to Addie, my heart breaking for all the pain she was going through. It was tough being a baby, in this strange world where you didn’t know anything, your body always changing, not understanding why things hurt or why you got hungry. It was a rough existence.

  It did seem to help some, though. She stopped wailing and just blinked at us all tearfully.

  “They make teething toys you can refrigerate. They’ve got a gel inside that keeps them cold and squishy. Maybe pick up some of those when you get her some lotion.”

  “Got it,” Matt agreed, his shoulders starting to relax. “You saved my ass again, Keke. You both did. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

 

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