“No ma’am. One song, that’s the deal. Finish brushing all of your teeth so we can do something else.”
Lucky is definitely the good twin.
“What are we going to do?” he asks.
“Well, that depends. Do you guys feel like being big right now or being little?”
“What can we do if we feel like being little?”
“I can read you a book, or you can play dress-up or some kind of game.”
“What can we do if we feel like being big?”
“Well, I heard that Summer hid your shoes and some other things, so maybe she can show us where she hid all of it and we can put everything back where it was so everyone can find everything and that will make life easier for everyone.”
Summer spits into the sink, frowns at me, and crosses her arms in front of her chest. “I did not hide them. I put them in better places.”
I fill a little cup and hand it to her to rinse with. “Okay. Well, why don’t you show us where these better places are. Or we can make it a game! Lucky and I can look for his shoes, and you can tell us if we’re getting close to finding them or not!”
She puts the cup down, wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, and huffs.
“Or…I can show you my room and all of the things I use to make perfume and you can help me mix together something that might help your dad sleep better at night. And then you can help me make dinner.”
* * *
Summer and Lucky have now sniffed all fifty of my essential oil bottles, and after calmly explaining to Summer that no, I do not have more than I need because this is for my work and if she ever throws my things away I will be very, very mad, she and Lucky have narrowed the scents that they think will help their dad sleep down to spearmint, lemon, and rosemary. They’re all stimulants. But they’d smell great together!
“Why don’t you try this one again.” I open up the neroli oil. “Don’t you think this one’s nice?”
They both lean in to get a whiff.
“It smells like Grandma’s hands.”
“She probably has a soap or a lotion with this ingredient. I’m going to leave this one out for you to think about. How about this one?”
I open up the rose essential oil for them to sample again.
“I like it,” Lucky says.
“It’s too girly-foo-foo for daddy.”
“Well, he’s not going to put it on his skin. This is for burning in an essential oil burner in his room before bed, remember? We’ll put a little bit of water in a little soapstone bowl, add a few drops of these oils, and then we light a tealight candle under the bowl and it makes the room smell like the essential oils.”
“Why?”
“Because the heat from the candle warms up the oil and water, and that releases them into the air. That’s called evaporation.”
“But why does it make the room smell? Because of gas in his belly?”
I can’t help but laugh at that. “Sometimes. But this will make the room smell really good and help him to relax and fall asleep.”
I feel my phone vibrate in my back pocket.
“Why don’t you guys sample some more, and then we’ll decide on three of them before we start making dinner.”
I pull my phone out, and my heart skips a beat when I see a message from Shane.
SHANE: Have you set your own hair on fire and run away screaming yet?
ME: No, but I accidentally set the twins’ hair on fire. Is that okay?
SHANE: Yeah, just keep it down. Trying to sleep over here.
ME: Maybe put your phone away and try harder.
SHANE: I just wanted to say thanks. For explaining farts to us. For being here. You’re good with them.
ME: Well, now I just feel bad for burning their hair.
SHANE: Naw. It’ll grow back. Okay, I’m gonna go to sleep, but I have one question for you.
SHANE: What do you call a male cow who’s taking a nap?
ME: A bull dozer. Nico and I learned every dumb joke on the Internet. It was basically the only way we could communicate with each other when we were kids. So if you want to dazzle me with something I’ve never heard before, you’ll have to try harder.
The moving dots by his name appear immediately, continue to move for about twenty seconds, and I brace myself for some amazing dazzling thing that I’ve never heard before.
But the dots disappear.
No more messages come through.
Maybe he fell asleep.
Maybe I should stop texting my boss to try harder to dazzle me.
But hopefully he just fell asleep.
9
Shane
It’s seven thirty, Summer is about two blinks away from falling asleep, and we’re only halfway through Green Eggs and Ham. This is awesome. She usually makes me go through a few books before finally nodding off.
Willa is in Lucky’s room, reading to him. I took on bath time duties since I had gotten a couple of hours sleep before dinner and have been feeling great. Now I am simultaneously impatient for and dreading the moment when Willa and I will be the only two people awake in this house. It is bizarre, how quickly she has assimilated into our life.
I try my luck at turning a chunk of about ten Dr. Seuss pages at a time and hope that she doesn’t notice when I continue reading, but Summer knows this book by heart. “Daddy.”
“What?” I ask innocently.
I expect her to turn the pages back, but instead she says, “Is Willa always going to live here?”
“No. She’s just here to help me out with you guys until your mom is back from making the movie she’s making now. Then we’ll hire a different nanny. Why? Don’t you like having her here?”
“Yeah. She’s better at singing than you. I think she should live with us all the time.”
“Well, I don’t think that’s something she’d want to do. Being a nanny isn’t her normal job. She needs to get her own place eventually. But you can enjoy her while she’s here, right? You tired?”
She nods.
“Did you have fun today?”
“Yes.”
“Hey there,” Willa whispers as she tiptoes into the room. “Sorry to interrupt.”
“Lucky asleep?”
“Out like an adorable light.” She stops at the foot of the bed and clasps her hands behind her back in a way that pushes her chest out and makes me want to die a little. “I just wanted to say good night to Summer, but—wow.” She grins at me. “I never would have guessed you’d look so good as a redhead.”
Fuck.
I remove the child-size Little Mermaid wig that I had forgotten was on my head and toss it on the floor. “She made me wear it.”
“I would have too if I’d known about it. Keep reading.”
“Actually, I think we’re done, right, sleepyhead?”
Summer can barely keep her eyes open. “What are you going to do when we’re asleep?”
“Nothing,” I answer quickly.
“Separate stuff,” Willa says.
“Nothing together.”
“You should watch a movie,” Summer says.
“I’m sure Willa has more important things to do.”
“Not really. What movie should we watch?”
Summer smirks. “Austin Powers.”
Willa gasps. “That’s one of my favorite movies to watch—all three of them, actually.”
“Oh, really? You like those movies, but you think mine are stupid?”
“Well, the Austin Powers movies know they’re stupid.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And I never said your movies are stupid. I would love to watch Austin Powers tonight, Summer, that’s a great idea.”
“Say it,” Summer says, pointing her finger at me without moving her head from the pillow.
“Nope. Good night.”
“Say it, or I won’t close my eyes.” She tries so hard to keep her eyes open.
“You say it.”
She giggles. “Throw me a frickin
’ bone here.”
“Yeah, bay-bee, yeah!”
Willa snort-laughs. “Oh, behave!”
“Yeah!” I kiss Summer on her forehead before standing up. “You get your groovy self to sleep now, bay-bee!” I may not be a good singer, but my Austin Powers impression is shagadelic.
“Good night, Summer.” Willa walks over, leans down, and kisses my daughter once on each cheek. “That’s how French people kiss each other when they say hello and good-bye,” she explains.
“Are you saying good-bye?” Summer sounds so worried.
“No! I mean, they do that when they say good night too. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Okay. ’Night.”
Willa smiles at me and walks out of the room, leaving an unbearably fragrant trail in her wake. I’ve never been much into desserts, but today I find myself wanting to eat out an entire bakery. I mean, eat up. Eat up an entire bakery.
I turn off the bedside lamp. Summer doesn’t respond when I tell her I love her. That was—hands down—the most struggle-free bedtime routine I have experienced with Summer since she turned five and realized she was a Jedi Knight who can make me do whatever she wants. I don’t know what kind of aromatherapy or voodoo magic Willa is practicing on us, but I am all for it.
Willa is looking out the family room window when I get there. It’s a clear night, the room is bathed in moonlight, and the dark outline of her figure is beckoning me. What do you call a horny guy who can’t touch the strange, beautiful woman he’s quietly staring at from the doorway like a creeper? Me.
I press the dimmer switch to turn the overhead lights on low, causing her to jump.
“Sorry.”
She starts fiddling with the pendant of her gold necklace. “Guess we missed the sunset.”
“Yeah. I usually miss it on school nights this time of year. But on the weekend—if you’re not busy doing something more exciting—we can go for a walk on the bluffs in the evening. With the kids. That’s kind of the thing to do around here.”
“Sounds like my kind of thing.” She smiles at me as she crosses over to one of the armchairs.
I go over to my Blu-ray collection. “We don’t have to watch Austin Powers if you don’t want to.”
“Oh, I want to. Yeah bay-bee!”
I am now remembering that Nico and I used to crack each other up on set by saying our lines like Austin Powers during read-throughs. “You let Nico know you got here safe?”
“Yes. While you were in the shower this morning. I’m sure he’s already gotten to second base with that model by now.”
I wonder if she knows that second base for Nico is doggy style.
I try to shake all thoughts of sex out of my head as I start the movie and go over to sit on the sofa, as far from where Willa is sitting as possible.
“You’re a good dad.”
I have to chuckle at that. “I try. I mean. I like to be good at things, you know? But ever since I had kids, I’ve felt like I’m failing at everything except keeping them alive and preventing them from murdering anyone.”
“You’re a really good dad. Trust me. You need to absorb that. The father of the family I lived with in Versailles was absent even when he was there. Same with my dad. You really pay attention to your kids. All the time. That’s not a small thing.”
I feel uniquely humbled and moved by this. “Thanks. I don’t think anyone’s ever told me I’m a good dad before.”
“Well.” She flicks her hand dismissively. “Most people are idiots.”
“I’ve noticed that. Did you want popcorn or anything?”
She shakes her head. “I’m still stuffed from dinner.”
“Me too. I’m going to have to do extra cardio tomorrow.”
She guffaws and makes some wry comment, but now I’m too busy thinking that I should put my personal training sessions on hold while Willa’s here, or at least move them to the gym. My trainer’s a fucking stud and he will be all over her.
I mean…I did promise Nico I’d keep her away from guys like that.
Willa’s chair is angled to face the TV, so I can easily shift my gaze from the TV over to her without it being obvious.
She is so pretty and fun and so comfortable with my kids and in my house.
Too bad she can’t stay here all the time.
* * *
“Shane. Shane. Shane. Shane. Shane.” That voice. That sexy fucking voice. I never want to stop hearing her say my name.
“Mmph.”
“You should go up to bed.”
I open my eyes a crack to find a shapely pair of legs in tight jeans in front of me, and my instinct is to reach out, hook my fingers into the waist of those jeans, and pull down.
“Whoa.”
I open my eyes all the way and realize I’ve just yanked the nanny down onto the sofa beside me. She places her hand on my chest for balance. I realize I’m lying down. I realize I fell asleep. I realize that she covered me with a blanket. I realize that I was having a raunchy sex dream about her while she was ten feet away and I was about to act it out right here, while my kids sleep upstairs.
I remove my fingers from between the waist of Willa’s jeans and her smooth bare skin. “Shit. Sorry. I fell asleep.”
“Yes. You did.” She pats my arm and stands up.
I sit up immediately, unable to think of many more things I could have done that are less cool. “Is the movie over?”
“Yes.”
“Sorry. I was half asleep…”
She walks over to the TV to turn it off. “It’s fine.” She looks over her shoulder at me coyly. “Do I make you horny, bay-bee?”
Yes. Fucking yes. But I shake my head, frowning. “Don’t even joke about that.”
Her face falls. “Alrighty, then.”
I have no idea why I just snapped at her, other than to hide the fact that my answer is ‘yes, fucking yes.’
“I ran the dishwasher, so I’ll put the dishes away and go to my room. Don’t forget to use the essential oil diffuser. The kids spent a lot of time deciding which ones to use.”
She leaves before I can apologize or get up to grab her, press her up against the wall, and kiss her. I want to do both of those things, but tonight I can only do one of them. I fling the fuzzy blanket off me and rub my scalp vigorously to wake myself up. I barely know her, but already there is so much that I want to do with this woman, and all I can do is apologize to her.
“Sorry,” I say, as I enter the kitchen.
She doesn’t look up from stacking the clean plates on the counter. “You don’t have to apologize.” She forces a smile. “My Austin Powers imitation isn’t half as good as yours anyway. Good thing I’m not trying to be an actor.”
“Yours is better than most,” I say as I transfer the plates to the cupboard. “You ever consider acting?”
“Don’t even joke about that,” she deadpans.
She continues removing dishes from the dishwasher and handing them to me so I can put them away. We’re quiet for a good minute. Until I can’t stand how comfortable and right this feels anymore.
“I hope you find time to do your perfume thing while you’re here. I mean, I’ll make sure you do. You won’t have to pick up the kids every day. I’ll start taking some meetings here and there, and I’ll have to do ADR at some point, but…”
“What’s ADR?”
“Automated Dialog Replacement. You’ve heard of looping?” She wrinkles her nose and shakes her head. “Where I have to re-record certain lines of dialogue if the sound got messed up on location or whatever. For the film I just shot. In Maine.”
“The one with the script you loved and got paid scale plus ten for.”
“Right. Anyway. Set up your Etsy shop. Do whatever you need to do for you.”
“Actually, your ex-wife has asked me to design a scent for her. She told you that, right?”
“Oh yeah. That’s official?”
“She said she’ll have her lawyer draw something up.”
&nb
sp; “Yeah. She says stuff like that a lot.”
“She’s, uhhh, she’s nice. She’s very pretty. Obviously. Do you miss being married?”
“To her? No. Not at all. But I do miss being married. I mean. I think I’d like being married to someone I actually…you know…”
I glance over at her. She’s got a confused look on her face. “No. Someone you actually what?”
I clear my throat. “I mean, it’s not something I want the kids to know.” I lower my voice. “We got married because she was pregnant.”
She looks so surprised and maybe relieved to hear this. “Oh. I did not know that. Does Nico know that?”
“Yeah. He was one of the few people who knew she was pregnant before we got married.”
“Wow. I guess he can be really discreet when he wants to be.”
“I wouldn’t have made him my best man if he weren’t.” I don’t like talking about this with her. “So what are your plans? Your perfume plans? What would the sweet smell of success smell like for you?” I really fucking wish I had not just said that. I don’t know why, but now that she’s the nanny, I just feel like Old Dad Guy around her. Horny Old Dad Guy, if I’m being honest.
“Well,” she says, grinning and clearly finding it hilarious that I just said something so lame. “I want to set up my own niche perfumery. Grow a client base and reputation through Etsy, and then set up a separate online store and then a brick and mortar. And then hopefully more of them.”
“Instead of working for like…Chanel?” The only kind of perfume I can think of.
“I mean, that’s another way to go, obviously. And it would be a steady paycheck. Ultimately, it’s more important to me to have my own company and create natural, nontoxic fragrances. But if I were to take a job at one of the major perfume houses, I would get a lot of valuable experience and connections.”
“And where would those major perfume houses be? Paris?”
“Paris, London, New York.”
“Nothing in LA, huh?”
She shuts the dishwasher and slides her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. “No, but there is a burgeoning niche perfumery scene here. Which is why I came.”
Sleeper Page 8
