Page 7 of The Single Dad

“I used to kick your butt all the time, if memory serves,” I say, reminiscing. There was a pool table in the basement of the local rec center, where we used to spend hours as kids. It was beaten-up and shabby, nothing like the new one before us now, with its shiny wooden paneling, but that didn’t stop our games from getting ruthless.

“Oh, please.” Noah scoffs, and I smile, falling easily into the ever-familiar pattern of over-competitive sibling rivalry. “I beat you just as much. Or more.”

“You wanna prove it?” I stride over to the wall to select one of the pool cues hanging there, twirling it with a wink. “Unless you don’t think you’ve got the stuff anymore—”

“Are you kidding?” He reaches under the table for the rack and sets it on the felt surface, then starts to gather the billiard balls from the table’s pockets. “I’m going to destroy you.”

“You wanna put money on it? Five bucks says I win.”

“You’re on.”

* * *

Cole

I usher the last candidate, a slightly older woman with a stooped posture, into my home office, guiding her to the plush chair in front of my desk.

I’ve spent the entire day interviewing nannies with little success, so my hopes aren’t exactly high as I walk around my desk to begin this final interview.

My assistant set up the appointments, but I insisted on conducting the interviews myself. I need to find someone good. There’s no point in hiring a nanny just to regret the choice later. I’m already going out on a limb with the whole process, so I want to do it right the first time.

As we sit down, I say, “So. Before I ask you about yourself, let me explain a little more about the position.”

“Absolutely,” she says, her voice crisp. She holds her handbag in her lap, her ankles crossed and posture stiff.

“I mostly just need some general help raising Archer. I spend a lot of time working, and don’t always have the time to devote to keeping an eye on him. I’d need help with his meals, bedtime, that sort of thing.”

She nods. “That’s fairly standard.”

“Archer and I have a bit of a non-standard situation,” I say. “He’s not my son—he’s my nephew. I became his guardian when his mother passed away suddenly a few years ago.”

My heart aches as I mention my sister’s death, and I refrain from saying anything else about it—I generally prefer to avoid the subject altogether, but a potential nanny would need to know at least a little bit of the history.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” says the older woman.

I grit my teeth and nod in acknowledgement.

“What made you decide to look for a nanny?”

“I need someone who understands children better than I do,” I admit. “Archie was very young when I stepped in, and my personal assistants were great at helping me with the basic childcare stuff. But…”

She smiles knowingly. “Then it got more complicated?”

“He’s getting older now,” I say, nodding. “Every day, he’s getting more perceptive and curious, and I think I need someone who’s solely dedicated to Archie and his needs.”

“Absolutely,” the woman says. “That makes perfect sense. Five is a wonderful age for a child, but they do need structure and discipline.”

It’s an encouraging response, especially compared to the wishy-washy uncertainty I’ve seen from a lot of other nannies today. I nod, gesturing for her to continue.

“In my work, I prefer to focus on activities that will help a child’s development,” she goes on. “Activities that can shape cognitive ability, and prepare them well for future schooling.”

After the first few interviews today went poorly, I wasn’t sure I would find someone. But this—this sounds promising. This woman is sharp, organized, and careful. I take a peek at her resume, sitting on my desk—years of experience in childcare. On paper, she seems perfect. I’m almost ready to bite the bullet and offer her the job.

“I’m glad to hear you say all of that, because I think that’s exactly what we need,” I tell her. “I can’t always be there to make sure that Archie is getting—”

There’s a creaking sound from the door hinge, and I pause mid-sentence, glancing over. Archie is there, peering into the room at us.

I grin, gesturing for him to come inside. “Hey, there’s the little man himself. Archie, come say hi.”

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