Page 13 of Nanny for the Firefighter

Earlier in the car, all I wanted to do was ask about everything—especially about Jai.

I couldn’t push that boundary, in any case. Bridget has a new life, and I do, too. Pushing the issue seems like just an invitation for more pain.

“And she’s going to be working for me.”

Sighing, I try to think about something else, switching back over to my emails and opening one regarding the contract on a new property.

“Daddy!”

Mia walks up to me, and as I smile down at her, she shoves the laptop closed.

“Daddy done?”

I laugh, setting the laptop aside and opening my arms so that Mia will jump up onto the couch with me.

“Well, I guess so. Looks like you want me to be done working.”

She grins. “All done!”

Pulling her in close, I kiss the top of her head, melting a little into the feeling of her tiny arm around my neck.

“Eh, it was just boring emails anyway.”

Mia makes a disgusted face, one that she definitely hams up, and pretends to be sick. “Ew, emails!”

She knows the term well enough to understand that emails mean Daddy is working, and Mia is less than thrilled whenever I have to work around her.

It makes me laugh again, her little catchphrase, and then Mia is pointing at the TV and describing the episode as best she can.

“Daddy, look! Tru! Bus is broken!”

Nodding, I remember this episode from the million other times we’ve watched it, and I grin down at her as I hold her close.

“The busisbroken. What is Tru going to do?”

This is another part of our familiar routine, and she shrugs—exaggerated and adorable—and then goes, “Aha!”

“What, Mia? What will Tru do?”

“Wishing tree!”

The show is right in sync with her happy squeal, and sure enough, Tru goes to the Wishing Tree. Mia dances happily next to me, laughing as the wishes are chosen and revealed.

My heart squeezes. I adore this little girl more than anything in the world, and I just want her to have a good life.

After her mother passed, it was just me and a baby. I had no idea what I was doing, and it’s these moments that make me think that at least the kid feels loved.

Which I will give her until I’m gone.

It only takes half of another episode for Mia to start falling asleep on my arm, and I turn off the TV to carry her upstairs.

She whines a bit, but we both know that it’s definitely time for bed.

Grabbing her favorite teddy, I hand it to Mia as she lays in her crib, immediately going to chew on its ear.

Ugh, so gross.

I grimace, but Mia just laughs. She thinks it’s nice, so who am I to tell her that the bear is likely full of germs?

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