“Daniel,” I approach first. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” He reaches out to shake my hand.
“Likewise. I hope you stick around for a while,” he says, choking on a chuckle that’s quickly interrupted as Samantha thwacks her fist into his gut. I already know what he means by that, thanks to Liam and his warning of no nanny lasting more than a week and a half.
I walk over to Dylan and sit down beside him, assume that Samantha and Daniel are watching me to analyze how I handle the situation of Dylan not greeting the new person in the house. “Whatcha playing, bud?”
Dylan dismissively shakes his head and snickers. “Nothing you’ve heard of, I’m sure.”
“You’d be surprised,” I counter. I’d be surprised too, but I can pull this off.
“Minecraft,” he mutters.
As shocking as it is, I have, in fact, heard of the game. I have no clue what it looks like or how to play it, but I’ve seen it advertised all over Target and in the malls. “As a matter of fact, I have heard of it. Maybe a little later I can play too?”
Dylan tosses his iPod down onto the couch and hops up to his feet without another word. He leaves the room and heads into the kitchen, stomping the whole way. “I’m hungry,” he shouts. Wow. Okay.
Liam is smirking at me from behind Samantha and Daniel, and I want to smack that smug look right off his face. That’s the second time I’ve wanted to hit him. I’ve never wanted to hit anyone as much as I want to smack him. I guess he just has a smackable face. Liam turns the corner and follows Dylan into the kitchen. “My man, you can’t be so rude to the ladies,” he says to him.
“Whatever, she’s just another one,” Dylan replies. “Can you get the cereal down for me?”
I hear the banging of cabinet doors as they open and close. “Here you go, man. You have lifeguard training in forty so don’t eat too much.”
“I know,” Dylan says, sounding far more pleasant than he was to me a moment ago.
“It takes a bit for him to warm up,” Samantha says, appearing a bit nervous. She walks around the coffee table and takes a seat beside me. “Dylan suffers from high-functioning Asperger’s. To be honest, it was hardly noticeable between the ages of six and nine, but now that he’s heading toward those tween years, we’re beginning to see more traits and rebellious behavior.” Samantha speaks surely and concisely as if she has recited this description hundreds of times. “In full disclosure, we haven’t had a nanny stick around for very long, which has been a challenge for Dylan. So, we are hoping you’re what we have been looking for. Liz, the woman your friend, Jade, works for told me you were spoken very highly of. She said you have incredible people skills, which is why we were so eager to offer you the position.
I feel winded, blindsided even. Not that I have any issue whatsoever with being Dylan’s nanny, but I feel like I should have been warned of his condition. I would have told them I have absolutely no experience with Asperger’s. I don’t even know what high-functioning means for him. Plus, I would have at least done some research so I could understand a little more about the disorder . . . is it even considered a disorder? This is awful. How am I going to help him? “Samantha, I have to be honest with you. I know nothing about Asperger’s. That doesn’t mean I’m going to walk away from this position, but I just wish I had a little more insight on how to handle any particular situation that might arise.”
Samantha places her hand on her chest, her shoulders slouching forward. “I apologize for not offering the disclaimer before today, Julia, but we’ve had such a string of bad luck with nannies that I was afraid to scare you away too.” She still should have warned me. “I understand if this is too daunting. We’re happy to raise your salary too if it’s a matter of that?” Oh my God. That is not what I was implying
“No, no.” That’s not at all what I mean by this. “I just want to make sure I’m giving the Dylan the best care he deserves. That’s all.”
Samantha and Daniel both seem to relax a bit. “That’s wonderful to hear. We’ve asked Liam to stick around and help you out for the first few days since he’s familiar with Dylan’s routine and tics. We feel you’ll get a better sense of understanding once you’ve gone through the daily routine a few times during this first week. I hope that’s okay with you?”
Just to add insult to injury, I’ll be forced to spend even more time with Liam than I thought I would have to. Fantastic. “Sure, of course, that will be helpful.” I hope they’re enjoying this uber fake smile plastered across my face.
“Great!” Samantha says while peering down at her smart watch. “I have to run. Class starts in twenty. Dan, what time do you think you’ll be home tonight?”
“I have a town meeting at six, so plan for eight,” he says, pulling his hands out of his back pockets. “I have to get going too. We do appreciate you being here, and we hope you’ll stick around for a bit.”
“Of course,” I respond, standing from the couch. “I hope you both have a great day. I’ll make sure everything is under control here.”
Liam reappears in the entryway between the living room and the kitchen. He’s leaning into the wall, one foot crossed over the other and his arms folded over his chest, topped off with his signature smirk that I’ve come to despise.
“Have a good day, guys,” Liam says.
“Thanks again for helping out,” Daniel says to Liam, holding out his fist for him to pound. Geez, they’re obviously pretty close. I am so the outsider here.
Samantha and Daniel leave, and I’m standing awkwardly in the living room, fearful of how this is all going to go down. I can tell by the snide glow in Liam’s eyes he knows exactly how this is going to play out. Confidence. That’s what I need. It’s what I have always had. Pull it together. I brush past Liam and sit down at the kitchen table across from Dylan. “So, lifeguard training? That sounds like a lot of fun. Do you enjoy swimming?”
Dylan laughs at me so hard, milk spews from his nose. How nice. “Nine days,” Dylan shouts over to Liam.
“Oh, I don’t know, I was thinking more like eight, but you’re on, kid.”
“Twenty bucks,” Dylan continues.
“I’ll even up the ante to thirty this time,” Liam counters.
Oh my God, they’re ganging up on me. What the hell is this?
“Why don’t you go get ready for training,” Liam tells Dylan. After Dylan places his bowl of cereal in the sink, he fake punches Liam on the way out, and Liam scruffs up his hair. It’s obvious they have a close relationship, which is sort of crawling up my skin right now.
“Who would have thought the babysitter would need a babysitter,” I quip.
“Don’t take it personally,” Liam says. “Sam and Dan have had a string of bad luck. They’re just protecting Dylan.” Yeah, by using you.
“I understand.” I feel like a dog with my tail between my legs. “Can he like—um, does he need help?”
Liam laughs, making me feel ridiculous. “No, he’s capable of getting his towel and goggles.”
“Well, I don’t know . . . I’ve never been around a child with—”
“I would just act as though he doesn’t have anything different about him. It’s in your best interest.” Liam moves into the living room and opens a coat closet, grabbing a sports bag. “Five-minute warning, Dylan!” I’m basically useless right now, and this feels super uncomfortable. Circling around for something to do, I see a sports bottle on the kitchen counter and tend to that. I’ll just clean it out and fill it up. Even I can do that. “That’s Sam’s,” Liam says from behind me.
I slam the plastic bottle down onto the counter. “Okay, how about you just tell me what to do all day, and I’ll be your puppet. Sound good?”
“Perfect. Just how I like it,” he says while continuing on with his routine.
“I don’t like you,” I mutter.
“So, tell me, are the rumors true about Sterling?” Liam nudges me to the side, takes the bottle I had started to clean, and completes the job for
me as I try to understand his question.
“What are you talking about?”
A snorting sound growls in his throat, and he nods his head while drying off the bottle. “Never mind.”
“No, tell me what you’re talking about, and while you’re at it, how about explaining the unnecessary warning you unwelcomely offered about him last night.”
“I’m sure you can figure out that much after spending the night with him.” The confidence he oozes with each word kind of makes my stomach turn.
“So, you think I’m easy?”
He looks me up and down, completing his show of mockery with a crooked smirk. “Look at you with your sex hair and—” Immediately, I smooth my fingers through my hair that’s flipped out in every direction.
“Think what you want about me. I don’t care.” I leave the kitchen and head up the stairs to check on Dylan.
I knock lightly on his partially open door before pushing it open a few more inches, finding him staring out his window. “You okay, buddy?”
“Don’t pretend to be my friend,” he tells me.
Moving forward, a few steps closer to him, I glance around, hoping to get a better idea of who he is and what his interests are, but his room is practically barren with professionally hung pictures of ocean waves. The only pop of color in here is a neon blue surfboard mounted above his bed. “Do you like to surf?
He shrugs. “I don’t know,” he says, sharply.
I continue looking around, finding a designer-like buoy on the opposite wall. “What about swimming?”
He shrugs his shoulders again. “I like summer.”
“Well, it’s summer and it’s just about time for your training. Do you want to head out?” I notice one of his drawers partially open, and I head over to close it.
“Don’t touch my stuff,” he snaps.
I lift my hands before closing the drawer. “Okay, no problem. Do you want to close it?”
He shakes his head. “I like that drawer open.”
My chest feels tight and heavy as I desperately try to understand him, wanting to be a good person in his life, but I get the sense it takes time with him. “Okay, I understand,” I tell him.
“No, you don’t.” He takes his towel from the bed and leaves the room. Like I’m sure I’ll be doing all day and week, I follow behind him . . . watching, and analyzing.
Before I leave the room, though, I look at the drawer once more because my OCD really wants to close it, but I keep my hands to myself, getting the idea that anything could set him off.
As I head down the stairs, Liam meets me at the front door with Dylan by his side. “You’re going to need a towel and a bathing suit,” he tells me.
“Oh…I—” He couldn’t have mentioned this twenty minutes ago?
“Just in case. Guardians need to be prepared to help the child in the water.” I want to ask him if he would be doing that part today since he seems to be doing everything else, but I keep my thoughts to myself for the time being.
I scramble back upstairs, trying to hide the mild limp I’ve been fighting against. Tearing open my bag that I should have unpacked yesterday, I find my bathing suit—bikini—that I didn’t intend to wear in front of a child, but it’s all I brought, so let’s hope he doesn’t drown today—not to mention the fact that if he starts to drown, we’re likely going down together since I can’t swim. I’m sure the training is in shallow water, though . . . it has to be. I mean, it’s the ocean. How far out could they go? I close the door and quickly strip down, slipping into the small pieces of material. I grab my cover up and flip-flops then head for the closet where Samantha told me I would find towels.
I’m back down stairs in less than two minutes, now prepared for drowning. As if I were a nuisance to wait for, I find Liam and Dylan outside, already heading down a cobblestone path toward the back of the house. “We’re not driving there?” I shout ahead. My ankle wants to know.
“Training is just down there. You can see the pool of water they use from the breezeway upstairs,” Liam explains.
Still following in their trails, I watch them having a conversation even though I can’t hear what they’re saying, but Dylan is laughing and Liam wraps his arm around his shoulder. It’s sweet to see how well they get along, but that thought ends quickly when Liam glances over his shoulder at me with that damn smirk again. They’re probably talking about me. I’m not sure why I should expect anything else.
At least Liam wasn’t lying about the distance. By the time we reach the bottom of the trail, which takes less than a few minutes, there is a group of a dozen or so kids who are all Dylan’s age, in matching red board shorts circled around their instruct—. You have to be freaking kidding me. Okay, I’m moving home tomorrow. That’s it. Sterling is the instructor? That explains how Sterling and Liam know each other.
“Dude, did you recover from that killer swell this morning?” Swell? What are they talking about.
“Oh, check this out?” Sterling holds up his rope-like muscular forearm, showing off what looks like a burn and a gash.
“Oh man, you hit the reef?” Liam asks him, taking a closer look.
“Eh, I didn’t realize I did damage until I got out. It’ll be fine.” I forgot they met up this morning, which makes no sense. Wouldn’t Liam have already known I didn’t spend the night with Sterling? I’m going to go with the thought that my ego is going overboard and I’m not important enough to discuss because the thought of Sterling making up a story would cause an unpleasant scene. Besides, I don’t know him well enough to assume he’d be a jackass.
Sterling looks past Liam and over to me, offering a quick wink. There’s no smile for show but his dimples deepen enough to hint at a questioning thought running through his head.
“Alright, lifeguards, follow me,” Sterling shouts to the kids.
Dylan tosses his towel over to Liam and runs along with the other kids. They each grab one of the red, plastic floating devices that were pre-dug into the sand, and run into the water.
Now, standing here alone, I assume it’s safe to take a seat on a rock a few feet back while I watch the training. I guess this isn’t so bad. Pulling my sunglasses down over my eyes, I see Liam stand up from the rock he was sitting on and cross his arms over his chest, watching the class intently. Let me guess . . . now, I look lazy. Why does this have to be so complicated? I’ll just get up and join him. “So, what should I be doing right now?” I ask him.
“You can go back to where you were. I got this.”
“No, this is my job and I’m trying to figure out what I should be doing.” I don’t think I’ve ever been so angry for so many different reasons at one time. My blood feels like it’s boiling within me, and there is absolutely nothing I can do but keep taking this crap from him.
“Okay, then stand here and watch the kid you’re being paid to watch,” he says coldly.
“Did Sterling tell you I slept with him?” I can’t stop the words from pouring out of my mouth. I need to know if he said it.
Liam looks over at me and pulls his sunglasses down over his freckled nose. “No.”
“Then why did you assume we slept together?”
“To piss you off.” He pushes his sunglasses back up his nose and redirects his attention to the ocean.
My breaths are heavy and my pulse is racing faster than it needs to in this heat, but he’s testing every one of my last undamaged nerves, and I have no idea why he’s acting like this. There’s no reason. I’ve done nothing to piss him off. He isn’t giving me a chance to prove I’m not one of the other nannies who were obviously chased away.
“Look, I won’t talk to you, and you don’t have to talk to me. That way you can put a stop to your agenda,” I tell him.
“I don’t have an agenda, Julia.”
A muffled scream comes from the water and we end our conversation, frantically looking out to to see what’s going on.
Sterling is holding onto a kid but I can’t see which one. “Shit,�
� Liam grunts.
“Is it Dylan?” I ask.
“Are you going in or am I?” he asks me. I’ll take that as a yes.
“What’s going on?” I ask while totally freaking out because I can hardly see anything with how far out the kids all are.
“He’s either having a fit about something, a crab got him, or he stepped on a jelly fish. I don’t know, obviously.”
I step out of my flip-flops, pull my cover-up off and over head into the water. It doesn’t look like they’re in too deep right, but they are far out. Walking through the knife-like cold water feels like it’s taking forever, though. I’m pretty sure my muscles have all locked up on the way. This is fucking cold as shit. Jesus!
“Oh God,” I hear Liam groan from behind me. A splash surprises me from behind and Liam soars through small waves, swimming quickly out to the group. He makes it there quickly, leaving me in the wind, at least a hundred yards away still.
The closer I get, the more clear Dylan’s voice is. He’s not crying, but he’s groaning and splashing a lot. It takes me another long minute to get out to them and I’m barely able touch the bottom. The kids are all treading water, and I’m about to lose my balance if one small wave hits me. “What happened?” I ask, breathlessly.
“A crab got him,” Sterling says, keeping his calm like I would never be able to.
“It’s still there,” Dylan screams.
Liam dives under the water toward Dylan and stays there for a long thirty seconds while I watch Dylan grit his teeth and clench his eyes through pain. I tiptoe closer, so I can wrap my arm around him, but he immediately shoves me away. “I don’t want you.”
The look on Dylan’s face relaxes, telling me the crab must have detached, and Liam simultaneously comes up for air and embraces Dylan to swim back to shore with him.
“Guppy,” Sterling calls over to me. “You gotta get yourself some swim lessons if you’re gonna be taking care of him all summer.”
I’m truly beyond the point of mortification now. “Okay,” I tell him.
The Man Cave Collection: Manservant, Man Flu, Man Handler, and Man Buns Page 9
